#I just paused it midway to get a drink and boom

[s1ushyz]

My bad bitch over here with those crazy eyes

[redamoureux]

─ Romantic Homicide

Emesis Blue Soldier Short Scenario

• genre: romantic

( # warnings ; SPOILERS, hurt/comfort, trauma, mild hallucination, mention of character death, implied timeloop, inconsistent timeline, ooc (?)

─ a/n: been kinda fonding over soldier lately, and after watching emesis blue i gotta write this, man deserves some comfort, also the ending is a little rushed so it might sucks :'D

Enlighten me, my dear

Why am i still here?

The rain pitter-pattered steadily on the window as you continue typing away on your computer, staring at the screen while occasionaly glancing at the keyboard to ensure you click on the right keycap.

You were too concentrate on writing your report that you didn't hear the door creaked open as a figure lightly closes it back and slowly walks past the other desks, approaching your section.

As if by chance, you pause typing midway a sentence, feeling a presence behind you. Your eyes widen slightly as you continue to stare at the screen, a shadow faintly appears behind your reflection.

Before you could act on your fight or flight instinct, a pair of hands grabs roughly onto your shoulder and a voice booms almost right next to your ear. "BOO!!" You screamed and instantly got up to try to fight off the intruder, almost losing your balance and groaning a little due to bumping onto your desk, dropping papers and whatnot. With a little struggle you turned to face the intruder, ready to fight for your life─ yet instead you were met with a cackling soldier.

You confusingly blink a few times before you made a knowing face and you let out a sigh of relief, allowing your shoulder to drop.

"Heheh, i got you good didn't i?" Soldier comments, still laughing. At that you let out of another sigh and gave him a small smile. "Yeah, yeah, right you did."

Soldier gave a last chuckle and calming down before he peers at the computer screen behind you and sees your yet to be done draft document. "What are you workin' on?" He questions, pointing at the screen. You turned your head a little to take a glimpse at what he is pointing at before looking back at him. "Oh, it's just some reports that i need to submit to the chief tomorrow." Soldier nods while making a small cognize sound as a reply.

"So uh, what are you doing outside here in the middle night?"

"I woke up because i had a weird dream earlier. And i just wanted to check if anybody is still in the station." The conversation was abruptly interrupted by sizzling and gurgle-like sound coming from a coffee machine placed on a nearby cabinet, which took both of your attentions. Soldier walk towards the machine, taking a plastic cup before pouring in the coffee. "Ah wait, that belongs to my-" you try to object to which soldier respond by sipping the coffee loudly. "-co-worker.."

"You said something?" You gave him a look but shrugged and decided to just brush it aside. You kneel down to pick up the things that dropped earlier, and shortly after he came next to you helping picking up the stationeries. As he checks around, from a distant, he notices a small envelope beneath the table and retrieves it before scanning the back and front of it.

As you're sorting out the papers, he places the envelope infront you, "beep, you have one new message." With a voice trying to imitate a robot. You stared at it before you took it and thanked him. You observe it briefly thinking it may be a letter from a colleague, but you became puzzled upon learning that the letter was something you've never seen or received before, yet it has your name on it. "What is it?" Soldier asks, seeing your confused look. "Oh it's nothing, i just don't remember ever getting this from anyone."

"Ohhh, maybe it's a letter from a ghost?" He jokingly said, making a hand gesture. You shaked your head, "Pft, obviously not silly. I must've forgotten about it somehow, I'll just look into it later." You put down the envelope and walked to the drinks cabinet and brew yourself a cup of matcha tea. While stirring the cup, soldier walks towards you holding the coffee pot on one of his hands and a plastic cup in the other. He tilted his head a little seeing your drink. "You like matcha tea?"

"Mhm, it helps me stay awake during overtime."

"I can't really understand why you enjoy that, it tastes bitter." "Have you ever tried it before?" "Yes of course i did."

"Well then, guess we simply have different taste in drinks." "Affirmative."

Drizzling slowly escalated into downpour ringing clearer as you both drink in silence before he says a trivial thing that led you two into a good deal of time of random talks and playful bickerings which ended up making you two stay at the office longer than intended.

I don't mean to be complacent with the decision you made, but why?

───────────────────────────────

Monday, October 21, 1968

1:43 AM

"─Increasing clouds, with a low round 26. Breezy wind between 15 and 20 mph. And a similiar day tomorrow with only a few patches of rain across the middle and southern side of the midlands with infrequent amounts of sunshine during the day."

"The same can be said for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday as the weather gradually improves with more sunshine and less cloud rains clouds hovering across the sky."

"However the temperatures increases significally over─"

The meteorologist was interrupted the poor radio reception signals caused by the storm and is swiftly replaced with static noises.

You stared tiredly at the cup of your favorite tea on your hand. Watching as small stirring formed in the drink, with your vague reflection staring back. You were briefly lost in a chain of thoughts as your mind think back about a certain someone.

You look up to stare at the dark and rainy view behind the window that was partly covered by the blinds. You bring the cup closer and drink slowly, the warm drink gradually soothes your nerves to which you let out a small sigh to. You look back at the window, expecting to have nothing much to look at.

Until Your whole body suddenly tense when your gaze fall upon a black figure stiffly standing in the rain.

Despite the fact you couldn't see their eyes, you could just feel it's intense stare.

You tried holding eye contact with it for as long as you could, not even blinking, fearing you might miss it. You're unsure what to do, as if on cue however, a car drove past in a fast speed, driving through a puddle and splashing them and within a bat of an eye, they were gone.

Quickly placing down your tea, you ran closer to the window opening the blinds so you could take a better view and placing one of your hands on the cold window. Looking left and right, checking spontaneously, you furrowed your brows slightly and pinch the bridge of your nose. Feeling a little foolish for thinking that there was anybody outside in the middle of a rainstorm.

You turn to look at the ticking clock on the wall, just realizing that it's already practically morning. Maybe it's the best to go home and take some sleep now.

In the back of my mind

You died

───────────────────────────────

Sunday, November 3, 1968

10:31 AM

"Code 8, request for backup to Lazarus Funerals chapel, Chief was shot and the culprit is getting away!"

"10-4, Affirmative. Help's on the way. Make sure to vacant the area and restraint anyone from coming near."

"─10-1, this 177, i wasn't be able to receive- what the hell is going on?"

"There had been several reports about an attack happening in Governor Jules Archibald's funeral and shortly after, a presumed assassin emerge from the coffin and starts shooting people."

"Hold on, isn't that where your friend was attending to?"

"You mean that bozo? Heard he was just tryna cause trouble for us."

You stayed quiet, gritting your teeth. stepping on the pedal harshly in silent anger, wanting to get over this as soon as possible.

Earlier on, you'd heard the breaking news announcing Jules Archibald's passing and shortly afterwards, an agent reached out to you informing about Jules's funeral. Though it was like he was essentially bringing up more about soldier. You weren't sure what that agent is up to, but your mind wasn't focusing on that as you were more concerned about jane.

Ever since he was assigned to work alongside a private detective, you two barely were be able to talk to each other. During a few of your calls with him, he'd always update you about his work with the detective and other sector.

Which you'd obviously be happy for him, if it wasn't for the fact how at times he'd sound questionably troubled. One time he'd tell you about a rather alarming task that he was told to undertake and when you question it later, he'd confusingly and jokingly ask you what you're talking about.

You've brushed it aside since he kept ensuring you that he was doing well.

But now your suspicion amplified with these recent events that just somehow has a tie led on jane. You really don't want to doubt him, yet in the back of your mind you just know that something bad is going on.

And you're determined to find out the truth.

At last, you've reached the location, practically abandoning your car and ignoring the rain as you ran to the street, seeing cars crashing to each other and several bodies laying around. You cringed internally at the sight as you kept running until you've reached the chapel.

You pant and slowed down as you saw some police officers who had also just arrived to examine the crime scene. While you became distracted at the bloody scene. Blood splattered on the wall against the podium table with a body laying beside the opened casket. Though you recover quickly and looked around the place hoping to see a familiar face, to no avail.

"Hey!" A annoyed voice called and you swiftly turn your head towards the man. "What are you doing? you look like a damn lost puppy, just what are you even looking for?"

"I was just searching for someone." "Well that person is likely dead now, not that i care much. Where are the rest of the unit? They are supposed to be here by now." "They're on their way, sir." The officer sigh obviously irritated. "Whatever. Make yourself useful and help the others outside or something." You lowly nodded and he walked past you while muttering in low tone.

You took as many evidences as you could get, checking for any cameras placed nearby that could possibly help and interrogate bystanders. One was be able to take pictures of one of the gunmen, and when you paid close attention, you were capable of seeing the other gunmen on some pictures. You stared at photographs in bewilderment as you constantly compare those with a clear picture of jane. Sure most of these are rather blurry but you couldn't exactly deny the resemblance between the two men.

You brought back the proofs and documents with you back to the office to begin dicussing with your co-workers and forming speculations. With this in mind, you decided to try to call jane, hoping that he in some way would answer. No respone. You tried once again. No respone.

You began dialing the number every now and then, yet it remain having the same result again and again. Numerous wanted posters of him was printed and plastered around the street.

Some time passed by, with little new informations discovered it's making it difficult for you to find out what really happended. Which over time has began pressuring you. You know that you couldn't stay forever doing this, so slowly you start to drop it little by little and try to continue with your life.

And i didn't even cry, no not a single tear

And i'm sick of waiting patiently for someone that won't even arrive

───────────────────────────────

Thursday, December 7, 1968

5:00 AM

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Your sleep was suddenly interrupted as you groan and mindlessly extended your arm to reach the alarm, pushing every other thing aside. Finally slamming the noisy machine a few times to stop, you stayed in the same position for a moment and huff, forcing yourself to sit up straight with some struggles.

It's been a month since the incident with jane still on the loose. Some theorize that he must've somehow got killed one way or another because apparently they believed it shouldn't have taken this long for the authorities to find him, which you find clearly absurd.

You took a deep breath, deciding to stop thinking and let yourself to relax today. Starting your day with your usual routines and doing a few things such as cooking simple foods and preparing yet another cup of your favorite tea.

Pouring hot water into the cup while humming a melody, you placed down the kettle and sat down, drinking the tea.

When all of a sudden there was a few knocks on the front door that made you nearly choke on your drink and you look at the door. You weren't expecting anyone to come today, so this got your curiousity.

You stand before the door, your hand hesitatingly float just a few inches from the doorknob before finally turning open the door, making a click sound.

You weren't sure who you assume would come but certainly not-

"..Jane?"

You stared at the man infront you in utter disbelief.

He was also seemingly taken aback at your reaction, shifting to stand up straight on reflex. With wide eyes you look up and down at him, he's standing in a rather awkward way and wears his easily recognizable blue jacket which was smudged with some stains and dirts on it aswell as his helmet. You were still gawking before he spoke up almost lowly, "Hey.." giving a small wave.

As your mind is still processing everything, you moved yourself aside from the door as a silent gesture for him to come in. He steps inside as you look around the outside before locking the door again.

"Uh, you can take a look around a little first, i- need to do something real quick." You stammer still in disbelief. He nodded, seemingly acknowledging the awkward tension between two of you. You walk fast to the bathroom, closing the door as you lean on the door still feeling overwhelmed hence you're unsure how to react to his sudden appearance.

You gaze at the mirror and stare at your nervous reflection, listening to the faint mumurs of voices arguing in your head. You closed your eyes, frustrated and perplexed. After pondering for a little longer you decided that it's probably the best if you try to listen to jane's side of the story to really understand what ever is going now right now. You have a feeling there's going to be alot to unravel.

Going back to the living room, you found him staring at one of the picture frames hanging on the wall of you and your colleagues. Hearing the door click he spun around and you interject.

"Do you want me to get you another clothes?" You offered, and he took a last glance at the picture before nodding. You walked closer to him and hold out your hand and he takes off the jacket and hands it to you, then you toss it into the laundry hamper and went to fetch some unused clothes you had in store as precaution.

"Hey, Jane?" You called out, "I've prepare some hot water and towels for you to use in the spare room." You gave him the necessity and leading him to the said room.

You weren't sure if he had already ate breakfast yet, so just to be sure, while waiting you heat up and prepare the food you cooked earlier and washed the dirty clothes. After he returned you proffer to which he accepted and thanked you in a monotone voice before you two sat and eat in silent.

When you glanced up at him, you were met with a stoic and an almost emotionless face. He kept his gaze down and you could almost swear you never saw him blink.

Throughout the day, you two kept a distance. Occasionally he'd come up to you and ask some specific questions about your early life and friends which you hesitantly answered whilst choosing your words. In an attempt to lighten up the mood a little, you showed him several old collection of yours and recalling some good and bad memories, simultaneously engaging himself aswell.

──────────

You drowsily walked down the corridor and yawned, feeling slightly annoyed having to get out of bed to get snack. The faint drizzling rain still audible from the outside.

Finally reaching the kitchen, you grabbed some random available ingredients you had in your fridge and without having to think much, you made a quick work with it.

Just as you sat down and began eating, your eyes suddenly landed on a shadowy figure sitting outside the porch. You tilted your head and took another bite of the snack before you stood up.

"Jane?" He suddenly turned stiff before he turns his head and sees you. "Oh, hello." He greeted.

"What are you doing outside? It's cold and it looks like it's about to rain any minute now." You asked, feeling a little worried. "Just enjoying the view is all." He answered. Your hands held loosely on the door as you thought for awhile, shifting your attention from him to the cloudy and dark sky before returning back to him.

"Hm. Well, i made a snack and uh, tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure."

You took the light food and drinks onto a small tray and carried it outside. You sat down next to him and placed the tray between the two of you and took your piece. He held the mug in his hand and looked at the content then pulled his eyes up from the drink to look at you munching on your snack. "Chamomile milk tea. It's good for relaxation." You remarked. He blinked and you added, "don't worry, it's pretty sweet."

Finally deciding to listen, he took a few sip and you watched as his eyes slowly lit up with delight at the taste. You sold a small laugh at his reaction as he drink more and let out a contented sigh. Still feeling sleepy while chewing on your food, your eyes and mind drifted off briefly. "I'm sorry."

Your eyes shot open at those two words, and you snapped your attention at jane. His gaze avoided yours and instead looked down at his mug. Waiting for a further explanation and given none, you frowned with confusion. What does he mean by that?

He open his mouth with no words coming out before closing his mouth again and letting out a tired heavy sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. Seemingly having a terrible mental debate over what to tell. You turn away a little and lowered your head, wondering and worrying to what had happen to cause such a change in him..

"I.. i'm not jane." He suddenly stated in a low voice.

At that, your head perked up and looked back at him, slightly raising one eyebrow and squinting. Feeling like you're given even more questions rather than answers. He checks for your reaction and took a deep breath, "i'm not him." He stated once again, firmly.

"I killed him."

A look of alarm appeared on your face as you continued to stare at him, mouth agape. Your cup almost fell off your grasp before he began talking again. "Conagher slaughterhouse. Jules. There was a copying machine. He.. there were numerous copies of him. And i destroyed it all." He paused. "And it was cold. That's.. that's what cyclops feels like." He stares at his hands, and you followed his gaze. His hand is visibly trembling. Air hitched in his throat the longer he stared thus he covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

Your face switched immediately to worry once again, and you slide closer to him by instinct and raised your hand to put it on his shoulder to provide little comfort.

"I'm sorry, i've been lying to you. I don't deserve your help. I've been making you worry too much for someone you love who's dead. Replaced by me, another cheap clone of endless one." Despite your disturbed self, you felt your heart crumble upon seeing his terrified face that was now visible as his helmet was slightly slid up.

A single tear rolled down his distress yet still stoic face and you gave him a side hug. He tensed up for a moment and words were stuck in his throat before closing his eyes and slowly accepting your gesture and hugging you tightly. You could hear his sniffling right above your ear, accompanied by warm tears that intensified dropping on your shoulder.

You weren't be able to fully comprehend the whole situation yourself. Your mind is still stunned by the newfound information that your friend who you had been searching for a lengthy time now, fell out to be a clone, and that the real one is already long gone. You could easily think this must've been some sort of sick joke or that he was seriously losing his mind.. yet, his trembling body in your arms holding you tightly struggles to convice you to believe that pointless idea.

"It's not your fault." You whispered under your breath. And the two of you sat there under the awning as the rain increases very so slightly. truthfully you never exactly liked the rain and so does he. But it's always raining.

I can't believe i had said it

But it's true

@redamoureux

[crying-gay-tears]

Brighter Than the Sun Ch. 5

A night of silly fun before the end of the semester!

Full work

As a treat, here’s a playlist of all the songs they sang at karaoke!

It was a late autumn afternoon, a chilly wind sent leaves skipping across the pavement and shook the almost bare branches of the trees dotting the campus grounds. Another long day of classes had Gon walking home at the end of the day with tense shoulders and a slight headache. He was almost to his building when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was an email from mail services telling him that a package had arrived and was waiting for him. He checked the time and had about 15 minutes before mail services closed for the day, so he quickly changed direction and headed towards the administration building.

He made it in the nick of time and walked home with the package under his arm and an extra spring in his step, excited to see what goodies awaited him. When he finally made it into his dorm, Killua was sitting on the couch surrounded by open text books and papers. He was holding his phone to his ear with one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. 

“Yes mom, I did that already. Yes. Gotoh emailed me the flight information this morning. No, I haven’t yet. Just get off my back, okay?! I’m in college now, I’m not a little kid. Well I don’t care! Fine, whatever. Yeah, I’ll see you then. Bye.” He sighed and hung up. 

“Jesus, that woman really knows how to get under my skin. I swear it’s like she lives to make my life more annoying.” 

Gon walked over to the couch, gently pushing some papers aside so he could sit.

“Everything okay?”

He cut his eyes to the side. “Yeah. Pretty sure she just wanted to be nosy and annoying, but making sure I had my shit together for winter break was a nice cover.”

Gon chuckled and shifted to get more comfortable, dropping his backpack to the floor and resting the package in his lap.

Killua scooped up some loose papers and closed the books in front of him, then stretched out on the couch. “What’s in the box?” 

Gon smiled, holding it in front of him like a prize. “It’s a care package from Aunt Mito!” He rested the box on the couch between them, peeling at the tape along the edges. 

It opened to reveal layers of tissue paper and an assortment of treats. Gon pulled out a card, tucked it into his backpack to read later, and then started unloading the rest of the box’s contents.  “Let’s see, there’s some fruit snacks, some gummy worms, two mangoes, a pack of pens--thank goddess I really needed those!-- some herbal tea and hot chocolate packets, and oooh! Yes!!!” He cheered, pulling a large foil wrapped rectangle out. “A loaf of her homemade banana bread, it’s my favorite!” He placed it on the coffee table and gave it a reverent pat before pulling the last item from the box. “And here, this is for you!” 

Killua paused, his expression unreadable. “For... me?”

“Of course! She wouldn’t just send me a bunch of stuff and leave you out!” 

“But...why--I-I mean...how...” he trailed off, at a loss for words. 

Gon just laughed cheerily “Of course I told her all about you! You’re my best friend!” 

A blush spread across Killua’s cheeks. Gon smiled and handed him a small metal tin. It was blue--his favorite color--and his name was scrawled across the lid in loopy cursive with a heart next to it.

Curious, Gon watched as he pulled the lid off. Inside was a chocolate robot surrounded by a dozen homemade chocolate chip cookies. Killua blinked, his eyes grew wide.

Gon stared at him, a huge smile plastered on his face. “Those are her famous cookies! They’re the best, and she only makes them for special occasions. You’re very lucky!’ His lips pulled into a sneaky grin. “I’ll trade you some banana bread for a cookie!”

Killua looked up from the tin in his lap. “Not a chance, Gon.”

He pouted. “But Killuaaaa! Please?!” 

“Uh-uh. She made these special and delicious cookies just for me! I simply cannot share them.” He bit into one and groaned happily.

Gon grinned, yep, those were definitely Mito’s famous cookies. He was so happy Killua got to taste them, if a little jealous that Mito didn’t send any extra for him. Before he could argue and beg for even just a bite, his phone went off in his pocket. He fished it out and had a text from Kurapika. Oh! He almost forgot!

“Killua, get dressed, we gotta go!”

He managed a “Huh?” around a mouthful of cookie.

“I’ve got fun plans tonight, and you’re coming!” He started packing things back into the box.

Killua swallowed. “What? Gon, what are you talking about? I’ve got stuff to do-”

Gon stood and held a finger to his lips, shushing him. “The cookies can wait, Killua, there’s fun to be had! Plus, I’ve been wanting to finally introduce you to some of the friends I’ve been telling you about!” 

Killua stuffed another cookie into his mouth and crossed his arms. He locked eyes with Gon and put on his best poker face. Gon stared right back, unwavering. 

Killua sighed. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Gon just giggled and skipped towards his room to get ready.

~~~~~~~~

The setting sun silhouetted the skyline of York New City, casting long shadows across the street. Killua shivered and wrapped his jacket tighter around his torso, the chill in the air raising goosebumps on his arms. They were walking down Main street, and though Gon assured him that they were almost to their destination, he still had no idea what that destination was. He opened his mouth to complain just as Gon came to a halt on the sidewalk.

“We’re here!”

Killua glanced up, YNC Karaoke Bar glowed above them in red neon letters.

“Gon, you’re joking, right?”

“Nope! It’s gonna be so much fun!” Gon poked his tongue out, and pulled open the door. 

With a sigh, Killua followed him inside. The bar was not at all what he was expecting. There was no stage anywhere, just a long hallway with lots of doors on either side. The bar itself was pretty small, a few people were in line to order drinks, and some lingered in the space around it. Music thumped through the air, but it was muffled and unintelligible. The walls were lined with old license plates and tall red lamps stood in every corner. 

Gon looked around for a moment and then his face lit up. “Kurapika!” He waved and made a beeline for the bar. Killua followed behind, watching as a man with shoulder length blonde hair waved in their direction. 

Gon skipped up to him and gave him a quick hug. The man, Kurapika, looked a little surprised by the contact, but smiled nonetheless. Gon was beaming. “Kurapika, this is my roommate Killua! Killua, this is my lab partner Kurapika!” He motioned between the two of them as he spoke, and Kurapika offered a hand which Killua shook. 

“Nice to meet you Killua, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Killua felt heat rise in his cheeks, but he managed a smile. “Likewise”

Gon looked around the room again. “Where’s Leorio?”

Kurapika motioned over his shoulder towards the bar. “He went to get some drinks from the b-”

“Oi! Gon!!” A loud voice bellowed from across the room, and a tall man with dark hair and glasses greeted them shortly after. 

“Leorio!” Gon launched forward into a hug, almost spilling the drinks in Leorio’s hands. 

Leorio just chucked. “It’s good to see you too! And who’s this?” He asked, voice still booming despite their proximity. He motioned to Killua. “Is this the one you talk about all the time? Killua, is it? It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Killua awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you too.” 

Gon was smiling like an idiot. “Killua, this is Leorio, Kurapika’s roommate!”

Kurapika’s side eye was sharp when he said “Yeah, I had a room to myself until someone got kicked out of their own dorm.”

Leorio laughed boisterously, sipping one of the drinks he was holding. “I didn’t get kicked out, I chose to leave for my own sanity, and the safety of my former roommate.”

Killua quirked an eyebrow. 

Kurapika rolled his eyes. “He punched his old roommate in the face, and the dean said he had to find a place off campus because all of the dorm rooms were full. Unfortunately, I had previously made the mistake of mentioning to Leorio that I managed to score a room to myself for the year.”

“It’s not my fault! Tonpa is an asshole, and needed to be put in his place!”

“Yes, and being the divine bringer of justice that you are, you sacrificed your own housing to do so.”

Leorio stuck his chin up, “I regret nothing.”

Kurapika sighed and rolled his eyes, Gon just chuckled. 

“So,” Killua started, shifting from foot to foot, “how do we, uh… what is this place?”

“Ah, yes!” Leorio handed a drink to Kurapika and motioned to the long hallway behind them. “Our room is reserved and our time slot starts in,” he glanced at the watch on his wrist, “shit, right now! Let’s go!”

They headed down the hallway and stopped at a door midway down on the left. It opened to reveal a dimly lit room with an L shaped leather couch against the wall.  Circles of rainbow colored lights shone on the walls and reflected in the disco ball turning slowly overhead. A karaoke machine was set up on a tiny stage in the front of the room, and tv screens hung in both corners over it. When they stepped inside a server showed up and greeted them. She handed them menus and showed them how to operate the karaoke machine. 

She left briefly and returned with sodas for Gon and Killua and some cheese fries for everyone, and then they were left alone to sing their hearts out. Well, Leorio and Gon sang their hearts out. Killua mostly laughed and recorded their performances while Kurapika heckled their dance moves. After a particularly rousing rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, they both flopped onto the couch, exhausted. 

Leorio chugged the rest of his drink. “Kurapika! I’m going to order another vodka cranberry, and then you’re gonna sing with me!” 

“Absolutely not, Leorio. Unlike you, I refuse to make a fool of myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll just keep buying you drinks until your ass is drunk enough to sing something.” Leorio teased and then poked his head out of the door to flag down their server. 

Sure enough, a few drinks later and Kurapika was standing up, mic in hand and singing.

“I got guns in my head and they won't go. Spirits in my head and they won't go...”

After a dramatic performance that Kurapika would later deny ever happened, he had a seat and switched to water for the rest of the night. 

Gon was midway through his performance of Wannabe by the Spice Girls, when he locked eyes with Killua who had been quietly singing along from his spot on the couch. Shit.

When the song wrapped, Gon walked up to him and grabbed his hands, trying to pull him up off the couch.

“Come sing with me Killua! I saw you singing along, you know you wanna try it!” 

Gon hadn’t been drinking, but he was still so excited and silly, the energy of the room and the songs clearly had him riled up. 

“Come on Killua!” Leorio urged. “If Kurapika can do it you sure as hell can!” He started chanting.  “Kil-lu-ah! Kil-lu-ah! Kil-lu-ah!” Gon immediately joined in, but it wasn’t until even Kurapika joined the rally that he finally gave in. 

Killua sighed. “Ugh, fine! I’ll sing a damn song with you. But only one, and no recording you bastards!” He looked pointedly at Kurapika who was already aiming his phone at the stage. 

Kurapika chuckled and tucked his phone back into his pocket, meanwhile Gon was already back at the karaoke machine picking the song they would sing. 

“Nothing cheesy Gon, I mean it!”

He laughed. “Just trust me Killua!”

The karaoke machine counted down from 5 and Gon quickly pulled Killua to his feet and up onto the stage. 

An upbeat riff played through the speakers and Gon took the first few lines while gazing directly into Killua’s eyes.

“Oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me. I said you’re holding back, she said shut up and dance with me! This woman is my destiny, she said oh oh oh, shut up and dance with me!”  

Killua recognized the song immediately and sang the next few lines, letting the music drown out his nerves. 

“We were victims of the night. The chemical, physical, kryptonite. Helpless to the bass and the fading light, oh we were bound to get together, bound to get together!” 

They continued singing in earnest, jumping around to the beat and dancing together. As weird as it was to admit, Killua was actually having a great time. The room seemed to melt away and Gon kept grabbing his hands and pulling him in closer. The song was obviously a man singing to a woman, but the pronouns didn’t seem to matter to Gon as he serenaded Killua.

When the song came to a close Gon wrapped him in a hug as Leorio and Kurapika stood and cheered. They stepped off the stage and they all took their seats on the couch. 

“That was awesome you two! Hell yeah Killua! I’m glad you joined. Now that I’ve seen what you can do, you’ll never get away without singing! You either Kurapika!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Leorio. I’ve never sung a song at karaoke in my life. Nor will I ever.”

“Bullshit! If you think I’m letting this go you’ve got another thing coming! Gon as my witness!”

“We all saw you Kurapika, I’m pretty sure there’s even photo evidence…” Gon teased.

“What?! Destroy it!”

As their conversation dissolved into silly bickering, Killua just watched with a smile on his face. It was a surreal feeling, being welcomed by them all with open arms, and he was already so comfortable with them. It felt so...natural. Was this what true friendship felt like? 

College was seriously amazing so far. With a little space and freedom he’d found out more about himself, and now he’d found people that he could actually be himself around. It was a whole new world, so different from the one he’d known before. Was it real? Would it last? Could he really make his own way, be his own person and live his own life?  And was this what that life could be like?  Full of people that cared for him and made him feel happy and at peace? First the care package from Mito and now this? Looking around, it was like he was in a perfect bubble. 

And in two weeks, that bubble would burst, and he’d be back home, surrounded by his family. His real family who somehow felt a lot less like a family than the people he currently shared a booth with. 

Leorio raised his glass and called for a toast, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“To good beer, good friends, and a good life!” He declared, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. They all raised their glasses and toasted, Gon was giggling as if he were tipsy from his virgin shirley temple.

Kurapika smiled. “This was a great last hoorah before finals.”

Killua nodded in agreement, “Yeah I definitely needed this to help get me through all the boring reading.” 

“Finals?” Gon chirped, a confused look on his face. 

Killua quirked an eyebrow, “Yeah? They're starting next week?” Had he really forgotten about finals?

“Wait, WHAT?” He gripped the edge of the table. “I thought they were in two weeks!” 

Kurapika sipped his water, “No, two weeks is when Winter break begins. We’ve got finals coming this Monday and then break starts the weekend after next.”

Gon was flabbergasted. “B-but--”

Killua snorted. “Why did you think I’ve been surrounded by piles of books and notes in the common room all week?”

Gon was starting to look pale, his eyes were darting between the three of them like he was desperately looking for something and he couldn’t find it. 

 “I haven’t started studying at all yet! I can’t believe I didn’t realize--wait, what day is today??”

“It’s Friday, Gon.” Killua said, trying to keep his tone neutral so he wouldn’t laugh. Gon was practically vibrating beside him.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh no, I’m totally fucked!” He tugged at his hair, eyes wide. 

Killua had never heard Gon swear so much, even Kurapika was hiding a surprised smile.

Leorio took a large gulp of his drink and puffed his chest out. “It’ll be okay Gon, don’t worry! You have all weekend to prepare, you’re a smart guy, I’m sure you’ll be fine!” 

Gon didn’t respond, he just stared into the middle distance, mouth set in a tight line. Killua could almost see the gears turning in his brain. 

He stood suddenly. “I gotta go.”

Leorio tried to intervene, “Gon, it’s late! You can start in the morning with a fresh mind--”

“I can’t waste anymore time! I’ve gotta go!” His expression was a mix of panic and determination. 

He nudged Killua’s shoulder and he stood to let him out of the booth.

They all watched as he scrambled out the door without another word. 

“Welp,” Killua raised his soda again, “to Gon! Godspeed!”

“To Gon!” their glasses clinked. 

[sakuurae]

bring on the thunder

pairing: mark lee & reader insert includes: fluff prompt: 25; thunderstorms wc: 1.4k a/n: Im trying ;~; i have large ideas that are hard for me to condense into drabbles !!

part of the soft summer drabbles prompt list; for anon

“It’s the middle of summer”—you sighed as you shut the curtains to the coffee shop you worked at—“and there’s a thunderstorm raging over our city.”

A fit of chuckles left the lips of the only person left in the store, who was an old classmate named Mark Lee. Situated in the softness of a sofa chair in the corner, his feet propped up on the small table, he beamed. “That means we’re trapped here together.”

“We’re only trapped here together because I’m scared of thund—”

Boom.

A clap of thunder cut your sentence off midway, and your face flushed with coral hues out of embarrassment. “Because I’m scared of thunder,” you articulated quickly, as if your statement was a single word.

The boy smirked. “I can’t believe a college student is afraid of thunder.”

Rolling your eyes, you proceeded to buss all the tables in the vicinity. “You’re free to leave any time, you know.”

You locked eyes with your former classmate as you cleaned every surface within the coffee shop. He had a memorable face—not for the reason he was handsome, but due to his charming smile. Quite honestly, you believed that the last you’d see of the boy was when he kissed the class goodbye two quarters ago. To be trapped with him at the coffee shop you worked at was difficult for you to comprehend, especially when he acted like you two were good buddies.

“If you were closer, I’d ask if there was something on my face,” he stated as he broke your reverie. “But you’re staring at me when you’re across the store, so either I’m good looking or you want me to get out of here.”

His comment made you smile—because it was true. Mark Lee was the campus charmer, the neighborhood loverboy. Unfortunately to admit yourself, his prepossessing looks mirrored his equally bewitching personality. It was unfortunate that a conversation was never instigated between the two of you when class was shared, excluding questions about the subject’s content of course. But the moments you shared with Mark, whether it concerned questioning him about formulas or orthodox concepts from lectures, were pleasing.

On the last day of class you had plans to ask him out for coffee, but he exited the door after the final like a raging hurricane, completely finished with wrecking its town. Coincidentally, he had the same demeanor when he entered the cafe you worked at, only to be the last customer to attempt to leave prior to the thunderstorm roaring.

“From your silence,” he cleared his throat, “maybe it’s both?”

Laughing, you brushed off his comment and skirted to the back of the counter, tossing the dirty rag into a bucket of sanitizer. “I’m surprised you remember me.”

Mark shrugged. “How could I not?”

It was foolish that heat made its way to your face; his comment was open-ended. Was it because he found you equally attractive or—

“You bothered me almost every class because you kept on falling asleep mid-lecture,” he finished, teasingly.

“I didn’t sleep all the time. Just sometimes,” you retaliated.

“Right.”

Soon, you grabbed two clean mugs and prepared a latte for you and the boy. The final drinks of the night; though, you had to say sharing a cup of coffee at ten in the evening was more bewitching than alcoholic beverages. Steadily, you poured the milk foam and crafted a swan as its art. When you set the cup down in front of your former classmate, you beamed, proud of your work.

“It’s on the house. The storm doesn’t look like it’d clear up any time soon and I think we both need to be awake to make it back home,” you ordered as you plopped in the chair across from him.

Mark took the cup in his hand, the heat of its ceramic warming his skin. The corners of his lips quirked upwards at your design, and for a moment you felt proud. That was, until he spoke. “Is this an apple?”

Annoyed, you placed your mug down. “It’s a swan!”

“Maybe it’ll look like a swan if I’m five shots in.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so annoying if I was five shots in.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m annoying?”

Instantly, you bit the corner of your lip. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

The boy took a sip of his drink. “I’m kidding. Hey, this is actually pretty good. I never took you as the type to be an expert barista.”

“What did you expect?”

There was a brief pause before Mark proceeded. His eyes met yours as the cup of coffee met his lips. “I took you as an attractive person in class that I’d never say anything more to other than answering questions about class.”

“Wha—”

Boom.

The thunder was loud enough for it to rattle your insides, and your hands trembled, nearly causing you to drop the mug the second you lifted it from the table. Your eyes clamped shut like the darkness would protect you from the storm outside, but in that moment you found Mark’s thoughts of your irrational fear of thunder more dreadful. Steadily, you peered at your former classmate expecting to see an expression of domineerance; however, his face was stone cold in the look of contrition.

Animatedly, he turned his head out the window, pushing one of the drapes, and observed the sky. “It doesn’t look like it’ll pass soon… let’s find something to do or talk about.”

“Nothing much to do in a coffee shop on a summer night,” you replied hastily, as if your quick sentences would make time pass equally fast.

“To distract you from whatever’s going on outside.”

“Do you not hear how loud it is?”

Rumble.

Mark smiled at you, amused yet there were hints of care that were evident in his expression. Within seconds he finished the last bits of his drink and took his empty cup to the counter.

“I’ll take care of it,” you blurted, shooting yourself up from the seat. Anything would be a fine distraction from the weather outside, even if it was through diminutive actions. As your hands shook, you took the cup from his hands, your skin brushing against his own. The action was ephemeral, but it was enough for an electricity greater than the thunder outside to burst between the two of you, stunning you both.

When the boy stared at your physique that faced trepidation, he grasped onto your wrist gently and rubbed his thumb over your skin in assurance. But he pulled away with speed, realizing the relationship you two had: there was none, so why did he feel like it was okay to assure you in such a manner? Mark cursed at himself for being incredibly reckless.

Your grip around the mug tightened, like you were ready to snap it into pieces. Flustered, you pressed your lips into a thin line.

The sound of the universe appeared to melt away; the thunder and rain morphing into a white noise as there was a small proximity between you and the boy.

“My bad.” He cleared his throat.

Gawking at him, all you could bring out was an awkward smile. The gaze lasted a bit too long; in that instance, Mark himself felt flustered, the warmth chasing to the apples of his cheeks.

“Staring again?” he attempted to keep his relaxed persona, a forced smirk tugging at his lips. “Is there something on my face?”

Though his effort was futile, for he fought stutters and averted your eyes. “Yeah, that front of yours.”

“You think I’m not this slick?” Mark crossed his arms jokingly, trying to muster a risible reaction out of you.

Humming, you thought aloud, “Well I don’t know anything about you aside your name.”

“Sit back down, (y/n),” he emphasized your name. “We have an entire thunderstorm to waste getting to know each other.”

Boom.

The loudest strike of thunder of the night arrived, causing the lights inside to flicker momentarily. Shaken up, you jolted and dropped the mug, stumbling over to the boy’s direction.

Luckily—and unluckily—he caught you with his hands on your forearms, steadying your stance.

“I’m starting to doubt it’s the thunder making you act this way,” he pointed out in between laughter. “Maybe you just want to get close to me.”

His observations made you burst into a fit of nervous giggles, still overcoming the jitters prompted by the storm. However, Mark was able to ease your fears temporarily as the thunderstorm lasted.

“Is both an option?”

Mark looked at you in admiration, charmed by your words. Perhaps it was the raging thunderstorm outside that set the mood, or truly it was a mutual attraction that sparked its own electric current; nonetheless, for the first time in your life, you didn’t mind the thunder.

[michael-hearteyes-wheeler]

As Strange As it Seems

[1] [2]

Chapter 3: Saddle up, Partner!

Read on (AO3) or (FF.net)

[A/N] So, fun fact, I made three moodboards for this fic, and I wanted to find a way to use each of them. Im calling this phase of the fic ‘Act II’, and this moodboard fits the tone better than the original one. I hope its not too confusing lol! And I hope you enjoy chapter three.

The week that followed, went on much the same as opening day. Hot, humid, big crowds, 'Saddle up, Partner', a lunch break that was really just a mad dash to shove something into your face, and then it was off to the rides with Max.

Mostly it was fine. And getting that first paycheck, that was pretty great too, but by far the best part of everyday was right before closing. When the sky turned pink and orange, and the sounds of laughing crowds faded, leaving only the constant calliope jingles to be heard. By Wednesday Max didn't even have to ask for Lucas to join. He would just hop over the counter and they would cross different things off of her checklist. By Friday they had ridden the Scrambler 8 times, and all of the kiddy rides at least a dozen times each.

Still, he was unsure of what to call their relationship. Were they friends? Was she only spending time with him because no one else would agree? Was he overthinking everything? (Probably, yes to the last one, for sure).

The answer, to at least some of his questions, came in an odd form on the last day of the first week.

Saturday had been essentially a repeat of each day before, the only difference was that there was a live performance of some magician happening in the evening. 'Great Value brand Mind-Freak' as Dustin had referred to him. Which was, all things considered, pretty accurate. But it also meant that most of the rides, as well as the midway would be closing early, and that during the 'pre-show' show, Lucas's lunch break was extended to a full hour. A gift from god himself.

Lucas decided that a milkshake sounded pretty good. But, then again, so did the idea of a bucket of ice getting dumped on his head. He made his was towards the cart he had come to frequent over the last several days.

"Aw hey, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dustin grinned toothily from behind the food stands sliding glass window. He had his curly mop of hair pulled back in a messy ponytail to help keep off some of the heat. He wore a little paper hat with the fairs logo, and a striped polo that reminded Lucas of something an old timey barber might wear.

"It's my break, I just came to beat the heat." Lucas looked past his friend into the little booth, wear a row of slushie machines sat churning their sweet treats.

"Well come on in then!" Dustin disappeared from his place behind the window, and popped out of a small door a moment later, gesturing for Lucas to follow.

The space inside the cart was small, and what little floor space there was was covering in shipment boxes of food. A giant fan sat on the back wall above a small window, and a cooling breeze pushed its way through the space. There was a bubbling deep fryer for elephant ears, and another one for curly fries. There was a big class cooler with buckets of ice cream inside, and a long counter covered in sprinkles that didn't quite hit their target.

Lucas found a place to sit on top of a couple of sturdier boxes, and Dustin busted around the cart, like a well tuned machine, making them both milkshakes all without breaking conversation.

"I swear, some of these people have to be millionaires. $5 for a large fry!? You have to be kidding me! That's really the only perk though, that I get to eat for free." Dustin handed Lucas his shake before leaning against the counter opposite him.

"At least your job has a perk. I just have to stand there all day and press a button a thousand times." Lucas leaned back against the cool metal walls of the cart. He only then realized how sore his feet were.

"Don't sweat it, you get to close up early and run around while i'm still in here slaving away." Dustin paused to take a sip from his shake. "And besides, I can't think of a pretty good perk that you have."

Lucas furrowed his brows. "And what might that be?"

"You work directly across from Max! I'll bet you anything that the two of you fall in love before the end of the summer." Dustin winked and Lucas groaned.

"First of all, that's ridiculous. Second of all, we both just like rides. It's not like we get to just hang out all day, unless I yelled across the walkway, and that would just be weird."

"Look, ill i'm saying is that on your break you could have gone and chatted up a cool girl, but instead you came and talked to me." Lucas could feel a headache coming on from the amount of eye rolling he was doing. Why had he come here in the first place?

"Alright, Henderson, time for our switch." A voice called gruffy from the back of the cart. The boys turned to look at the woman who was clambering through the cramped space. She was older, with grey blonde hair pulled up into a hair net, and the face of a bulldog. An unlit cigarette dangled from her lips.

"Thanks Susan!" Dustin said as he hurriedly grabbed his things, and motioned for Lucas to follow. Lucas watched Susan give him an uneasy look up and down before turning to the window.

As soon as they were outside, Dustin untucked his polo shirt, and tossed his already finished shake into the trash.

"Thats Susan. She's one tough nut to crack. I used some of my best food puns on her, and nothing! Not even a chuckle!"

"Well yeah, if they were your food puns then im sure not." Lucas joked, elbowing his friend in the ribs as they walked.

"Haha very funny. You wanna go see Will? I think the backstage has AC."

"Hell yeah!"

They backstage did have AC. It hit them both like a wall, stepping into utter paradise. It looked a lot different than it did the first time they had walked through. The cavernous room was filled with people rushing back and forth across its cement floor. People yelling things at one another, people hoisting things up on ropes, and Will himself painting lazily in the corner, looking bored out of his mind, across from a wildly gesticulating Mike.

"Will Byers!" Lucas hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice boom through the space. Nearly everyone turned and scowled at him before continuing about their business.

"Oh! Hey guys, what's going on?" Will set down his paintbrush, and wiped his hands on his apron. Mike stopped whatever he had been going on about and turned to wave at them.

"We were hot," Dustin plopped down on the cool ground at Will's feet. "And Susan scares me, so we came here to bother you."

"Well, there isn't anything interesting going on here." Will shrugged. He looked... off. Sad Maybe? Disappointed? Lucas couldn't quite place it. He made a mental note to ask him later. "But you could probably hide out here all day. I'm still not even sure who is in charge back here."

"William, I might just take you up on that." Dustin leaned against a large wooden crate, arms tucked behind his head and legs outstretched.

They all sat and talked for the rest of Lucas's break. It was nice, catching up, and it affirmed what he already knew to be true. That it really was more fun that they had agreed to join him. If it weren't for his friends being there to hang out with, he would probably have just been standing around the Midway like an idiot. That, or be off spending his entire paycheck at the arcade.

"And then, he got off the ride and basically fell over the edge! He was passed out for like five minutes! I thought we were going to have to call the paramedics." Mike was telling them a story about one of their old Middle School bullies, who handled the Tilt-A-Whirl with the grace of a dying whale. They were all howling with laughter. "The best part is that his date didn't even wait for him! She just went home!"

"Serves him right!" Dustin chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "God I wish I could have seen that."

"It was pretty great. Definitely blows the Hotdog Incident out of the water." He finger quoted the words and Will smirked up at him.

Just then, Lucas's watch beeped. He sighed, and stood up, dusting his jeans off. "Alright guys, I gotta get back out there. Are you all going to watch the show?"

"Yeah, may as well." Mike shrugged and Dustin nodded. Will looked like he wanted to say something, but he didnt.

"Cool, i'll find you guys later then."

Lucas made his way back through the fairgrounds, passing happy families and rambunctious teenagers, towards the shooting gallery. He made the trek take as long as possible, shuffling his feet slowly across the dirt pathways. By the time he got back to the midway, the crowds had mostly cleared out. People were already flocking to the stage, wanting to find the best places to stand to watch whatever bogus tricks would be performed. Lucas imagined a lot of smoke and mirrors and sequins. As he neared the game booths, he couldn't help but look up as he passed by Max's stand. His heart dropped momentarily when he saw that she wasn't behind the sunbleached counter, and instead some other bored looking teenager stood in her place.

It wasn't until he turned the corner to his own booth that he saw where exactly she had run off too.

Max was sitting on the shooting gallery counter, swinging her tanned legs casually and drinking from a bottle of orange soda that almost matched her hair in color. When she saw Lucas in the corner of her eye, she turned and smirked.

"Your break ended ten minutes ago." She scolded playfully, hopping from the counter.

"Uh yeah I know I... Had to wait in a long line for the bathrooms." Lucas winced at his own lame excuse. Smooth, Sinclair, really smooth. He didn't think that taking his sweet time on the walk back would affect anyone he actually cared about. Not that he cared about Max, no not at all (aside from the fact that he cared a lot).

"Shame on you, Lucas, look at all of these customers just begging to shoot something!" Max gestured out at the completely empty space around the booth mockingly. "You have deprived them of a good time, and now their entire trip is ruined all because of your small bladder."

Lucas felt himself smile as her condescending facade faded into a giggle. "Sorry Miss Mayfield, i'll make sure to keep my bladder in check next time."

Max laughed hard at that, and it was a sound that made Lucas's face feel hot. "See that you do. You wanna make it up to me?"

"Sure, how?"

"Let me kick your ass in a shooting contest." She patted the top of one of the plastic guns.

"You can try, but I hate to break it to you, i'm the best sharp shooter in Roane County." Lucas crossed his arms in defiance. He really was good, if not on his credentials shooting tin cans with his wrist rocket as a kid, then the week of practice he had amassed working here would surely secure his victory.

"We'll see about that, wont we?" Max flipped her hair over her shoulder as she took her place behind the player 2 shotgun. Lucas smiled and followed suit. After they were both in position, Lucas leaned over the counter and pressed the little red start button hidden underneath.

"Saddle up, Partner." Max and Lucas both spoke along with the games droning prerecording, having heard it a million times before. It made them both laugh before they fixed their rifles in their hands. Then, a western themed song played, and it was off to the races.

Little cardboard cutouts of sharp shooters and bandits would flip up with a number telling you how many points each hit was worth. Some moved slowly and were easy to hit, others flipped up for only a few seconds before flipping back down again. However, it's not exactly that simple, because hitting the cowboy, his horse, or a barmaid will deduct points.

Max and Lucas were firing at full speed. Each turning and aiming, the barrel of their guns crossing on a couple of occasion as Lucas went for a 10 point bandit, and Max went for a 15 point burglar.

"Stay on your side, Stalker!" Max hissed, determination and excitement in her voice.

"I will if you-" Bang "Do!" Lucas taunted back.

Lucas felt pretty confident, there weren't many targets he was missing, and he only hit the Cowboy once. It was probably his best game so far. Max was doing pretty well too. Aiming low and high, getting heavily invested and cheering after she caught the big 50 pointer that flashes up only for a split second. They were both laughing and bumping into one another before;

"That's some sharp shooting, buckaroo!" The game signaled that the round was over. Each cutout lowered back into place, and they returned their guns to the stands on the counter. They were both panting slightly, grinning from ear to ear. At least until Lucas looked up at the scoreboard.

Player 1: 445 - Player 2: 560

"Holy shit!" Max cheered, "I totally owned you!" She threw her arms up and spun in a small circle. Lucas's mouth just hung open. "Oh man, like I mean, I knew I was going too, but you weren't even close!" She punched his arm.

"Jeez, someone is really a sore winner." Lucas chastised and Max threw her head back in a loud cackling laugh. The same laugh that she always had when they were whirling together on rides.

"I can't help it!" She giggled, "You are just so fun to beat. Your face gets all confused and then you scrunch your eyebrows together."

Lucas felt his eyebrows, involuntarily, press together.

"Yeah, like that!" She laughed again and flicked his forehead. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have smacked their hand away.

"Yeah yeah yeah, congratulations or whatever, are we even now?" Lucas crossed his arms, watching her dance in place celebratorily.

"Totally even, I mean, i'm still going to gloat about this for the rest of today, and maybe forever, but we are even." She lifted her chin, looking proud.

"Until I find something I can beat you at."

"Is that a threat, Stalker? Video games are kind of the only thing i'm good at, and i'm really good."

Something really honest past through her eyes at this last rib. He realized that he had never heard Max say anything even remotely self-deprecating before. Not even to be funny. It was strange. It felt off.

"Hey, that's not even fair, you are good at lots of things, maybe just... extra good at video games."

Max looked at him puzzled for a moment. She was still smiling, but her eyes peered deeply into his own, shifting back and forth, almost like she was reading him.

"Okay. Maybe just extra good." She grimaced, her mouth turning downward crookedly.

He felt as though he had stepped into some sort of weird, uncomfortable, territory.

"I will find something to beat you at though. One day." He smiled as earnestly as possible, and let himself slouch against the counter, wanting to change the energy of the situation.

"Well," She slouched beside him, her face shifting back to a more normal, playful one, "If that day ever comes, then i'll owe you big time."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Her face shifted yet again. She was closer to him now, looking up at him. He could see the small flecks of green that framed her brilliant, blue eyes. How had he never noticed that before? She was looking... Mischievous. Like she had a secret she was just dying to tell.

"I will tell you when and if that day comes, Stalker, but for now, you have made me miss some of my lunch break." She punched his arm, again, and pushed herself off of the counter.

"Hey, you were the one who wanted to play!" He hollered as she began walking back towards the main part of the fair.

She didn't respond, or if she did, he didnt hear it, but his heart buzzed in his ears. That small exchange had told him... well, nothing really. If anything it just gave him more questions. Max was always making him second guess and over think things. Which was, admittedly, really out of character for him. He was always the 'level-headed' friend. The one who said 'No, Dustin, you shouldn't try to eat a burger in one bite.' and 'No, Mike, you shouldn't spend all weekend trapped in the basement, come have fun.' It kind of alarmed him, actually, the fact that she could waltz over to him, flash a smile, and his brain would turn into mush. He sighed, and hopped over the counter back into his station.

The midway closed soon after that. There were just no crowds to try to sell too, and the entire carnival was basically empty save for the Main Stage. Lucas walked off after being relieved for the night, and he met up with Dustin as soon as the food cart closed. Together they found Mike, and then Mike found El and Max. Soon the entire group was on a mission, searching high (and mostly low) for Will. If he was somewhere deeper in the crowd, the thought of finding him would have to be dashed, but he made himself be found in a way that left the entire group reeling.

Will Byers. On stage, dressed in some ridiculous, blue velvet suit, being locked inside of a gaudy box by the magician.

The group was at a loss, silent and in awe, just like the rest of the crowd, but for very different reasons. Will had always been shy. More a behind the scenes sort of personality. It was immediately agreed upon that he had either been bribed, blackmailed, or hypnotized.

Will stepped out from behind a curtain. The Magician introduced him to the crowd as 'The Invisible boy!' He was asked to step inside of a huge rectangular box in the middle of the stage. Everything about Will, the Magician, and the box shimmered in the dusk lighting. Lucas had been right about the sequins, there was no denying that. Will did as he was asked, looking less 'mystified', and more just terrified.

The Magician tapped on the box several times, spinning it around, then spinning it again to show it was a solid structure. Then, he said some sort of magical word gibberish, and swung the door open. Only Will, and his very horrible suit, were gone. In his place was a beautiful and busty woman wearing a swimsuit version of that blue velvet ensemble.

The crowd went nuts, and so did the Party, but again, for very different reasons. Max and Dustin both cupped their hands around their mouths to let out loud and ear piercing applause, before Max grabbed Lucas by the hand, and pulled him towards the backstage area. He could feel the others behind him, but mostly he could just feel Max holding his hand tightly.

They found Will in the dressing room, hanging his suit delicately onto a hanger. He looked green with nausea, and pink with embarrassment all at the same time.

"William Byers!" Dustin gasped.

"Please, please for the love of god, tell me you weren't watching the show." Will groaned somberly.

"Oh, we watched buddy, and you killed it! Who knew royal blue was your color!"

"I didn't kill anything. I just looked like an idiot and walked into a box." Will rolled his eyes.

"You didn't look like an idiot," Mike placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "It was... surprising, but cool. Why did you go out there?"

"I guess the normal assistant for that part never showed up, and i'm the only person small enough to fit through the trap door." He shrugged.

"Trap doors!? Thats awesome! You have to give me a secret tour." Max winked at him and mussed his hair like a mom. That made him smile as he smoothed his hair back into place. Max speaking made Lucas realize that she was still holding his hand tightly. She must have noticed too, because she dropped it, and stuck her hand in her pocket.

"Yeah, sure, maybe. Can we just go? It's going to be crazy getting out of here." Will sometimes did this thing where he would anxiously bounce in place. It was nowhere near the level of twitching and bouncing that Mike often demonstrated, but it was his own version of it. And that's how he looked now, his flush face, and hair bouncing as his eyes flickered to the exit.

It made Lucas remember that sad expression he had worn when they saw him backstage. Was this the reason? Being forced out of his comfort zone? Either way, they all nodded and followed him outside.

"Sure, whatever you say, Invisible boy."

Will just groaned.

The group made their way out into the parking lot. It was basically silent. The only sounds were the 'oo's' and 'aa's' coming from the crowd still inside the gates. It had become a routine for the girls to walk with them to the van, before deciding it was really time to go home, and walking to Max's own car. It was nice, and the conversations they all shared before splitting lasted longer and longer each day.

El was talking about someone who came through the ticket line and had made a big fuss about the price. They all commiserate with her and laughed at her jokes. She was surprisingly really funny, in an understated sort of way. Unlike Dustin, who told a story about some kid who wanted sour apple sherbet and vanilla ice cream, and they all laughed about that too. It felt so... natural. Like they all got along, and the conversation never fell into awkward silence or a dead lull. Not with personalities like Dustin and Max, who bickered over basically everything as if they were old chums. Somewhere the path of the conversation had become skewed to comic's, and it was all downhill from there.

"Dustin, shut up, seriously, if I hear you say one more thing about the MCU im going to kick you." Max rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I'm just saying! It's an objectively better franchise with objectively better narratives!"

"Yeah, I think we all caught that. I even like Marvel movies, and you are making me want to pull my hair out." She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, as if to prove a point, and turned away from him to Lucas. They were sitting on the floor of the van through the open sliding door. "Anyway, Stalker, I have to go before I kill your friend."

"Hey, it's your life, you can kill whoever you want."

"You promise you would still be my friend after?" She put a hand in front of her mouth, as if to keep it a secret, although she still talked loud enough for anyone to hear. Mike chuckled and Dustin sighed.

"Max, if you did something to shut Dustin up? I might be your best friend."

"Alright, it's settled then," She clapped her hands together. "Dustin your days are numbered, El you have been replaced."

"Oh get bent, Maxine." El teased back. El was currently leaning into Mike, who had one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and one arm wrapped around Will's shoulders.

Max popped up from her seat next to Lucas with a smirk, pinching El on the arm. "Let's get out of here, lover girl, I can feel them destroying my last good brain cells." And then she sauntered off, her hair swishing back and forth.

"You know," El began as she stepped out from under Mike's arm, "She only insults people that she likes." And then El was off too, waving goodbye and following her friend to their car.

"Jeez, Dustin, then you must be her favorite." Will said with a grin.

"Hey now, I like Max as much as the next guy, but I think we all know who her favorite is." Dustin gave Lucas a shove as he moved past him into the van.

He didn't respond, not being able to think of a good enough comeback, and he let himself smile. Everyone took their normal seats, and they set off just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

The drive back to Hawkins each day felt as though it was getting faster and faster. Maybe it was because of Will's expertly made playlists, or maybe it was just that they had now made the drive seven times. Either way, it was a nice and fulfilling experience to watch the sky get darker, as the long stretches of farmland faded into quiet suburban neighborhoods.

Before he knew it, Dustin was pulling onto Maple Street, and he and Mike were jumping out of the car.

It was now their first official weekend off of work. The fair was closed on Sundays and Mondays, and the group was looking forward to not doing much of anything. They had talked passively somewhere around Thursday at having a movie night, but if those plans fell through, Lucas probably wouldn't complain. He was looking forward to just sleeping in, and maybe using his paycheck to buy some better shoes for standing in.

When he walked inside, His dad was sitting in the easy chair in the living room watching some History channel documentary. His mom was in the kitchen washing up from supper. He heard the TV go silent and took a seat at the breakfast table in front of a plate of leftovers.

"Hey, son, how was work?" His dad bellowed.

"It was good!" He replied through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Oh! I saved you a plate from din-" His mom turned around from the sink, "Oh well look at you, are you eating enough at work? Do I need to start sending you with a lunch?" His mom was always the type to fus about whether or not he was eating enough. She was a great cook, so the answer was almost always yes.

"Im fine, Ma, dont worry about it."

"Okay, well you just let me know." She turned back to the sink. "Work is going well? You and your friends are having a good time?"

"And what about you girlfriend?" Lucas eyes shot up to where his little sister, Erica, was spying on him from the stairs.

"Shut up, Erica! You- You don't even... That's not!" He stuttered, dropping his fork back onto his plate. "Why do you-"

"You should know by now that I hear everything." Erica walked into the kitchen and stole one of his diner rolls.

"Erica! Leave your brother alone, and I think you have had enough bread today." His mom scolded, ringing her hands on a rag.

"It's not my fault he talks so loud!" She shrugged, and turned to stomp back upstairs. He liked his little sister a lot, but she was probably the nosiest person he had ever met.

"I- I don't have a girlfriend." Lucas crossed his arms, suddenly feeling not hungry at all.

"Mmmhmm." His mom hummed.

"Mom! I don't!"

"That's fine, I didn't say anything. Now you wash up before bed, you smell like a churro." She pinched his check and walked into the living room.

Lucas sighed, but he smiled to himself. He finished his food and washed his plate, and all the while he thought about Max. He realized that she had said they were friends, and that made him want to dance in place the same way she had after beating him at the Shooting Gallery. It was an affirmation to at least one of the dozens of questions he had about her.

That at the very least, they were friends. And that was good enough for him, figuring that was as far as he was ever going to get.

At least for now.

Tagging:  @stranger-things85 @bestcoastisthewestcoast@she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @dustinhendrsn @samchamberlain @paladin-wheeler@peachysteve @summer-in-hawkins @elliehops @midnightmillie @el-hopper @puzzlingsnark@zerodoubleone@lumaxfanfictionarchive @bob-newby-superhero @sweet-sugar-sunsets @caseyk112

[mswisegal]

Not At All

Warning: vague mention of child abuse, injuries, blood, a little swearing, a bit sexual.

A/N: it’s finally done hooray! i feel so accomplished since it took me so long in editing and writing this, it felt like i had a baby and now it’s all grown up ready to go to college. anyways, enough about me, let’s talk about this piece of work i got right here. it’s not finished yet, it has a second part so don’t worry. i thought it's best to split them cause it's way WAY too long already as i've mentioned a couple times before and thank you so much for being patient and sweet and for encouraging me to write, it helps and it brightens me up for days. i hope you have a fun time reading, muwah!

Tags: @sungoddessra, @@aria-is-trash , @mcrosiers , @aceslytherin, @kaymordeline, @im-on-blue 

Pairings: Felix/MC, Chester/MC

Felix loosened his tie and adjusted his collar, perspiration starting to build on his forehead as he ungracefully sat on his expensive dark green sofa near the fireplace. With a tired wave of his hand, a house elf appeared with firewhiskey on top of a silver tray, head low and arms stretched towards him. He took the drink and with another silent wave, the house elf bowed then disappeared.

He looked like shit, he’s aware. If anyone who knows him sees him now, hair unkempt, dress shirt crumpled in small folded creases, and sweat running down the side just near his temple, they would have gaped in disbelief.

Felix never felt so disorganized.

He knows why he just didn’t want to face it just yet. The sound of ice hitting the glass as he examined the beverage in his hand absentmindedly brought him back to the time when he first met one of his unlikely friends many years ago. The sound of the fire crackling faded and the sound of scraping silverware along with a familiar booming voice took its place.

                                                    Year One

“HUFFLEPUFF!” Yelled the Sorting Hat as it was placed on top of none other than Jane Court. Felix remembers her, he saw her coming in and out of the compartment next to his and buying sweets from the trolley lady. Nose high when asked which house she’ll be getting into.

I’ll be in Ravenclaw no doubt. Have you read Hogwarts: A Histo-

Professor McGonagall took the hat on top of the blonde girls head to reveal half of her hidden face. She was shocked, to say the least, eyes blown wide but silently got off of the chair to approach the Hufflepuff table. She was greeted with an assortment of applause and a few welcoming handshakes.

Shame. Felix thought, his hands behind his back, she has the wits for Ravenclaw but it wasn’t enough for the sorting hat it seems. He wished he knew how the hat sorts them by so he wouldn’t be so-

Despite the confidence that was placed on his shoulders when he left for the train to Hogwarts he can't help but feel nervous.

What if the hat places him somewhere other than Slytherin? Is he even Slytherin enough? His father would hex him if he wasn't. Merlin forbid that he'll be placed in Gryffindor of all houses.

Felix suppressed a shiver when phantom green lights directed at him flashed behind his eyelids.

“Next we have-“

He felt a light tap on his shoulder. Felix stopped midway from listening and looked behind him to come face to face with a boy with coffee brown eyes and neatly gelled hair, shining under the floating candles above. "What house do you think you'll be in?" He whispered as he looked over to the next student getting sorted.

Felix didn't feel the need to answer because the boy opened his mouth before he could even reply. "I think I might be placed in Gryffindor, my little brother occasionally tells me I'm brave. I mean, if that's how the hat sorts us by. Though I doubt it, bit too easy if that's the case."

Felix didn't say a word, he didn’t have to, he kept his mouth shut despite the rising disdain he has for the gelled haired boy already. No one was placed in Gryffindor that didn't cause any trouble. They are loud, messy, and all over the place. His father said.

There was a moment of silence before the boy jumped, a look of realization on his face. "Oh sorry mate, forgot to introduce myself. I'm Chester Davies." Chester held out his hand for him to shake and he politely took it in his hand and shook it briefly before letting go.

"Rosier," He paused letting his family name sink in, voice low and devoid of any interest, "Felix Rosier."

"Saw you sitting in the compartment alone earlier in the train. I wanted to say hi but didn't want to disturb you, you seemed pretty preoccupied." Chester chuckled before continuing, "I do that too whenever the situation presents itself."

Felix was yet to respond and Chester raised a curious brow, "You sure aren't talkative, that makes you a good study partner. Say, do you find Divination weird or interesting?"

"Felix Rosier." Called Professor McGonagall looking around among the first years. Felix straightened his back, his name echoing among the Slytherin table. He could feel them staring at him, waiting.

He stepped out of the crowd to sit on the chair the professors provided without a second glance at Chester. After this, they wouldn't be able to talk to each other anymore and he found himself relieved, he didn't want to associate with anyone like him.

The ugly hat was placed on top of his head, almost too slow for his liking. “Ah, I see. You're one of them aren't you?" The Sorting Hat's voice is deep especially up close, Felix could feel it trying to understand him inside his head.

Legilimens. Hissed his father when he thinks he’s being untruthful. "Hmmm.... yes that is quite tragic." Drawled the hat thoughtfully. Felix began to feel uncomfortable on how transparent he is to the hat now and wished nothing more than to get this over with.

"Dangerous, very dangerous." It muttered. "You're a Slytherin no doubt, your ambition outmatches your father and your grandfather's. You have a right to be proud.” The heavy load seemed to have lifted from his chest making him sigh in relief.

"But too much ambition can lead you to a lot of trouble boy, best to stay out of it."

Felix was confused despite the swelling pride blossoming in his chest. "What do you mea-"

"SLYTHERIN!" Yelled out the Sorting Hat and it was taken off of him. Felix stood up, brows knitted together trying hard to decipher what it said.

Now walking towards the Slytherin table, he saw a few familiar faces with others he didn't recognize. They whispered to each other and looked over at him, whether it's mild interest, admiration, or calm indifference he didn't entertain them.

They know who he is and it gave him great comfort and a gut-wrenching distress that he hides perfectly behind a stoic expression.

"Welcome to Slytherin Rosier, the house will expect great things from you." The current Prefect told him before telling a few of his fellow Slytherins to move aside and give space for him to sit.

"Chester Davies!"

The familiar name rang and Felix turned around from his seat to see Chester walking stiffly towards the front, clearly nervous. When the hat was placed on top of his head he was sweating and pulling at his collar.

"YOU WANT TO BE IN GRYFFINDOR EY?!" Yelled the Sorting Hat and the Great Hall erupted in laughter. Chester shrank and a pang of remorse made it's way to the surface. Felix internally sighed, Shame.

The hat was talking to him and it seemed that Chester was the only one who can hear it and the student's laughter died down. The Gryffindors were eager to add another poor soul to their bunch and some were leaning over to try and catch what the hat was saying.

A momentary pause, the hat looks like it was in thought before yelling.

"RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw table erupted in noise, clapping and standing up with big smiles on their faces as Chester hopped off from the chair to walk over to his table. On edge, the boy almost tripped over the stairs before composing himself and walking much faster than necessary.

Felix wasn't expecting that, maybe there's a small chance they'll be able to talk to each other that now he isn't sorted in that house. 

One thing crossed his mind when he thought of Chester. The boy who was hunched over, overwhelmed by the attention he was receiving.

Felix doesn't envy him, no, not at all.

                                                 End Year One

He let out a dry laugh as the memory, still fresh from his mind like it happened yesterday, came back almost choking him. One glass wasn't enough, not even a bottle. With a silent call, the glass was refilled by a house elf before leaving him again to his own devices.

Felix learned earlier in life that not everything happens the way you expect it to be, that you don't get your way unless you do something about it. It was basic knowledge, everyone knows that.

How did his father reach being a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight? How could they have obtained a large sum of gold? Surely not standing around and doing nothing, his family line would have ended before it even began.

Evan Rosier didn’t stop getting what he wanted, there was no hesitation written in his actions if Felix ever felt like remembering him despite the bitter and burning taste in his mouth that the firewhiskey can never outmatch.

But where is he now?

Dead.

Evan Rosier died in the war. He didn’t make it because he was a fool for following a supposed 'Dark Lord' who got defeated by a damn infant. 

Felix was twelve when he received the news.

                                                     Year Two

It was October and Hogwarts is in lockdown. Students aren't permitted to leave their common room after six and Felix was in his dormitory anxiously reading Guide to Advanced Transfiguration using the light from his wand to be able to see the text. It was better to occupy himself than think about the ongoing war in the wizarding world.

It's been weeks since he received a letter from his mother and thought that the ministry might have interfered with parents communicating with their children who are currently in school. It wasn't the most practical but it's reasonable, especially when you're a son of a Death Eater.

Felix spent his time alone and some classes were canceled so they had more free time than usual. The muggle-born and half-bloods are all shaking along with other lesser purebloods who, at least, had a higher chance of survival than the rest.

He couldn't sleep.

Thank Merlin the professors weren't paying much attention to the student's school work or else he would be failing class after class. Felix wouldn't stop worrying about his parents or the outcome of this war would be.

He had met the Dark Lord, saw him only once when his father decided to invite him over. The dark wizard's presence was suffocating, he couldn't even begin to describe how his magic surrounded him like fog, ready to take the air out of Felix's lungs to the point he was suffocating during dinner and the only thing that kept him on his toes is his mother's reassuring squeeze on his leg.

Felix has bags under his eyes but kept his posture straight, hair combed neatly, and is as cold and forward as always. Some students were avoiding him, he can tell, they stepped out of his way whenever he walks by.

There's little to no students left appearing in classes, some preferred to stay in their common room until they are called out for food. The professors understood or simply had their own worries to even consider it a problem.

Gryffindors were as ballsy as ever and are mostly the ones who cut through the tension in the air to help forget momentarily about the war along with encouraging Hufflepuffs and reasonable Ravenclaws.

Chester was one of the few who was still buried deep in the books. Felix never thought much about it because he is a pureblood and he doesn't even need to worry about being hexed from this life to the next.

Somehow he was the only one Felix can really talk to during this time. Well, if talking also means reading quietly in the library together until the sun sets then they are quite acquainted.

They would occasionally talk, they don't just sit there in awkward silence. Chester is mostly the one who fills the air with nonsense and Felix would only reply if needed. Neither ever talked about the war.

Chester fits into all the categories his parents would allow him to have in a friend. He's a pureblood, not a Gryffindor, quite book smart, and isn't one to look for trouble.

This continued until November hits. He heard some students whispering, asking each other if Halloween will be celebrated inside of Hogwarts this year. Idiots. Felix hissed at them in his mind. You think of parties when people are out there dying? He didn’t know anymore, he was unsure. There was something wrong but he just couldn’t find it. Felix was so confused.

He questioned his father’s decision for a second and he immediately banished it from his mind. To question his father is to question himself and he wasn’t ready for that. Not now, maybe not ever. Felix feared the day everything he grew up to be was just something that could easily be proven as a lie. 

He breathed, In and out, he told himself as he kept walking. A Slytherin walked past him, head low, their hair framing their tired face.

A letter arrived before the day ends.

He was on his way to the library, a new book in hand when an owl hooted at him from the distance. It wasn’t familiar but he took the letter that was dropped on top of his head. Felix thought that the sender might not need him to reply.

The owl wasn’t familiar but the seal with his family crest was, he picked it up instantly, looking around for any signs of life. When he found none, he opened the envelope.

‘Felix, this is your mother. Forgive me but I have to make this letter brief, I have unpleasant news.

Strange. He thought. Felix began to feel uneasy, he could feel his mother's stress through the parchment.

Your father fought for the Dark Lord bravely my son, he did the best he could to rid the world of impurity. Our Lord has fallen by the hands of none other than Harry Potter and now we are facing a conundrum. With your father gone and our family name tarnished because of Igor Karkaroff, I will be sent in for questioning.

No news as of yet of this matter, only that the Ministry wants to talk to me. For now, you will focus on your studies and will continue to remain oblivious of your father's connection to the Dark Lord and anything relating to his death.

I will be planning a late funeral in December. Until then you won't be receiving letters from me. Destroy this message after you finish it.’

Felix’s hand was sweaty and it dampened the thin expensive paper, he gripped it so tightly in his hand that it crumpled. The boy’s face was blank, hickory eyes darker than usual despite the soft glow of the sunset on his face.

Evan Rosier, a man Felix looked up to most of his life, is now dead. His mother didn’t let him know how he died but knowing him, he wouldn’t have gone down being pliant and begging for mercy.

A hole in his chest opened like a black pit, an endless void. Felix couldn’t feel anything, doesn’t feel anything other than this cold sinking feeling. They lost the war, his father is dead, Voldemort got defeated, and his father is dead.

“Incendio.” He whispered and the letter bursts into flames, leaving no trace of anything other than the smell of burnt paper mixed with thick ink in the air. The thought of visiting the library didn’t sound appealing anymore, he turned and headed back to the Slytherin common room.

“Felix, wait up!” Called Chester in the other end of the hallway, he jogs towards him, robes flying behind him slightly. He grasped Felix’s shoulder to stop him and a pang of something made it’s way up starting in his stomach, to his chest, then to his throat. He wanted to lash out, to yell but his father’s words crept into his subconscious.

You are a Rosier.

A Pureblood

Know your place.

And he swallowed, letting the words die just right at the tip of his tongue. “I didn’t see you today so I thought I’d check up on you.” Chester, the boy with neatly gelled hair, stood in front him. “Are you alright?” He asked, tone careful with barely hidden worry in his features.

Felix brushed it away with a nod. “Fine, I just noticed the time.” With how the sun is nearly disappearing he knows that they’ll be ushered back into their respective rooms soon. “I have to go.” He side-stepped Chester and went back to walking ahead.

“Wait!”

“What?” Felix hissed low, irritation leaking out from his steady facade. “If... if you want someone to talk to. You can- I mean, my door’s always open.”

He stiffened, thoughts racing. Did he saw?

“See you around.” Without waiting for a reply, Chester walked back from where he came, hands in his pockets. The quick clicking of his shoes began to sound faint until Felix couldn’t hear it anymore. His knuckles turned white as he clutched The Monster Book of Monsters.

                                                 End Year Two

The glass in Felix's hand crinkled as he gripped it tightly, eyes distant. Evan Rosier died in the hands of Mad-Eye Moody, rumor has it he took a portion of his nose before leaving this earth. 

He took another sip of his drink.

Felix was right, his father is too proud and stubborn to back down even if it was a dozen Aurors taking him all at once. He was given two options, to rot in Azkaban or to die. Both weren't ideal but dying was the easiest way out and what better way to describe a Slytherin?

Felix could feel it again, the empty dark hole that seemed to have made a home in his chest. He would never say it out loud but he was glad that his father died. The old man was better off dead anyway, with him gone Felix can do whatever he pleases.

He can ignore his mother, especially her suggestions of potential wives. She had been showing him photo after photo of women whenever he comes over, it was almost rehearsed. A different month a different girl and she grew frustrated that he wouldn't pick one. She insisted on knowing about his preferences but unfortunately for her, Felix doesn't have any.

Unless if it's-

Felix stopped right there. No. He reminded himself, Stop.

But his mind wouldn't let him. The walls he put up is starting to crack and he couldn't halt the tiny bits and pieces of memory that slips through the gaps. Felix licked his lips, throat beginning to dry instantly.

A girl was running, skirt flying as she ran around the familiar grassy field filled with wildflowers, chasing the pages from her notes that got caught by the wind-

the color of her cheeks, the flutter of her eyelashes, the small bounce in her step-

her bright eyes, her soft lips-

her hair, her voice, her smile, her-

everything.

The walls collapsed and thoughts of her hit him like a tidal wave, it was drowning him, Felix could hardly breathe. The hole in his chest is suddenly being filled with something he didn't dare name. It kept pouring in but it didn't make him feel full. It didn't help soothe the ache.

He was still hungry, wanting more of whatever she has to offer. He laps up the attention she gives him, savor the small touches that ghosted over his skin for days, he eats up the words that went past her lips when she's talking to him.

Felix was the dog next to its master's table wishing for a few lucky bites of whatever it is on the plate.

The glass in his hand shattered, unaware of the grip he had around the fragile thing. The sharp pain made him refocus on his dark and gloomy surroundings, reminding himself to breathe. In and out.

The glass dug in his palm and the color of his blood shined almost black in the barely lit room. The light in the fireplace flickered and he felt uncomfortably warm. Felix's palm opened letting the blood drip down to stain the carpet.

“Have you seen her?”

                                                     Year Five

“Yes, I have.” Replied Felix who was facing Chester, “It’s impossible not to.” With a butterbeer in hand, he took a drink to hide his amusement. The edges of his mouth curling upwards as his lips touched the glass. The boy, who no longer gell his hair but let his locks loose, glared at him from across the table.

“Then you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t you feel a little bit sorry for me, for what I have to deal with for two more years?” Chester has his arms in front of him, palms open as if asking for Felix something. Unable to stop, he covered his mouth to silence his hysterics.

Chester scowled. “Some friend you are.” Felix coughed before waving his hand. “My apologies but it’s not my fault you have little to no luck in life at all.” He said with simple directness.

“Great. I’m so glad you find my pain entertaining.” He sighed, “First it’s Jacob and now her. I don’t think I’ll survive until the end of the year, let Ravenclaw win the house cup for seven years straight in memory of me.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “Don’t be dramatic, you’ll do fine. She couldn’t be worse than her brother.”

“You don’t know that!” Chester exclaimed, hands on his head, messing his neatly combed chestnut hair. "Have you ever met him? Talked to him? He's absolutely mad, bonkers, at his wits end! He kept talking about these cursed vaults like a lunatic! He wouldn't drop the subject that's why he got expelled!"

Felix was taken aback by Chester's sudden outburst. So it's that bad huh? How can someone be able to cause this much trouble? He thought and immediately try to calm his friend down.

"Listen, she's an eleven-year-old girl. What could she possibly do? Lumos her way in?” Smirking, he could see Chester’s tense shoulders relax little by little. “Besides I’m sure she learned a lot from her brother getting expelled. Do you think she’ll throw away her own opportunities to find, possibly non-existent, cursed vaults?”

“I can see where you’re getting at, I really do Felix.” He sighed again, “But you see, she thinks that her brother isn’t dead. Just, you know, missing.” Chester gestured in front of him, his own butterbeer forgotten. "I ask her why she thought that but she only gave me a short reply.”

There isn't a body so he isn't dead.

“She wouldn't believe it if there isn't any evidence that he is."

"I would say that's quite a solid argument," Felix mused, rubbing his chin. "I wouldn't put it past her if she thought that her brother isn't gone yet. Though I believe that she wouldn't be stupid enough to retrace his footsteps."

"I doubt it.” Chester groaned out pinching the bridge of his nose before taking his butterbeer and drinking it. It already dropped to room temperature but it seems like he didn’t care. “One of the reasons why I asked you to Hogsmeade, besides letting off some steam, is that I wanted to ask you about a first-year named Merula Snide."

The familiar name got him straightening his back. What did she do this time? He hissed in his head, irritation seeping through his being. "And what's so interesting about her that you feel the need to ask?"

"She's taking every opportunity to get Jacob's sibling in trouble. She reported to me that Ms. Snide put Bulbadox powder in her cauldron causing it to explode and after being tricked she got trapped with Rowan Khanna, her friend, inside a closet with a Devil Snare."

“Does she have any evidence that Merula Snide did all these?” Felix guessed that she doesn’t have any but he believes her, Snide caused a lot of problems already at the start of the year by mentioning You-Know-Who carelessly and the urge to set her straight right now increases. Another one to taint the Slytherin name? Not on his watch.

Chester pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then that’s quite a bold accusation.” He stated calmly but Chester only shook his head. "She insisted that it was her, I'm not saying she isn't lying either because I was not there to see it for myself. I just ask of you to look out for any suspicious behavior regarding Ms. Snide. I already had enough headaches to last a lifetime." With a last deep sigh, Chester took his butterbeer and downed the whole thing.

Felix felt pity for him as he watches Chester empty the glass. His hair was messy, his eyes tired, and his mouth was shaped into a temporary frown. Merlin, he hoped one day to never end up looking like that.

                                                 End Year Five

Felix laughed at the irony of it all. He laughed through the pain. How dumb can you be? He asked himself, his own cruel tongue lashing at him, creating wounds that Episky can never heal.

There was a small figure standing not far from where he's sitting, it was a house elf holding a wet towel, looking at him with big eyes filled with worry. The creature didn't dare speak now, afraid of the consequences if he did.

Felix's laughter died down, slumping back against the sofa with a loud thump. Who knew that he would feel for her this way in the future? He was never really good at Divination even if he had good grades in the subject, he always thought that it was a load of bull anyway.

And what good would it do to see yourself years from now pining over a girl that would never want him the way he wanted her? Fuck that, he'll eat his own heart out first then hers. The thought made the corner of his mouth twitch.

Running his tongue over his lips, Felix asked himself what flavor does he think she would taste like. She would be sweet, no doubt.

When have you become so morbid?

"Master, Rico wishes to s-serve.” Stuttered the house elf, approaching the sofa with shaking legs. "M-Master is hurt."

Felix was unresponsive but moved his injured hand to the side. His arm plopped lazily on the armrest, palms open in invitation and Rico rushed to heal him and clean up the mess he made. 

The pain on his hand disappeared when the elf put his own palm over it and with a snap of his finger, the blood stain in the carpet disappeared, along with the broken glass.

"Rico brought Master a towel." Rico offered the wet towel but Felix decline by turning his head away to stare straight into the fire. "Leave me." He said voice hoarse and the elf, with sad eyes, quickly obliged.

                                                       Year Six

Fast heavy footsteps were echoing around the empty library and Felix felt the need to look up, so he did. It was Chester, with fire in his eyes and books tucked under his arm. Felix knew what this was all about and he mentally prepared himself.

The Ravenclaw prefect slammed his books down in front of him and thank Merlin the uptight librarian wasn't there to hear it or else she would have thrown a fit.

"Now, Chester, calm down-"

"No Felix, I'm done." Chester fumed, "I've had enough complaint from my house, from Jane, and from Angelica. You said you'll do something about it but I don't see any progress, it’s almost as if you’re letting them.”

Offended, Felix stood, his chair scraping the floor making a screeching sound. "I'm not responsible for the actions of others nor do I control it." He seethed, "But rest assured that I'm doing my best in order not to let them offend your sensitive ego."

Perhaps it wasn't the right words to say by the way Chester's face gradually becomes red. Felix took great pleasure knowing that he had hit a spot, though it was short-lived. Guilt made its way down the pit of his stomach and he wants to vomit an apology out but his pride wouldn’t let him so he swallowed.

Jaw tightening, Chester narrowed his eyes. "This isn’t about the damn house points, let Jane do the job of throwing heads. You're aware of what this is about, don't act coy.” He retorted, his hands balled into fists. “It’s about the bullying, quite obvious really since your house is fucking full of them!”

Felix gritted his teeth, "And what about Gryffindor? I don't see you both complaining to Angelica."

“It’s more likely that your house is the one who initiated it and this is different.”

“What makes you believe that?”

“Because a snake would do anything to save its own skin and you know damn well Slytherin contains a lot of fucking dickheads." It was quiet, both of them staring each other down. Felix can’t confirm or deny it. Though he expected much more from him than this. It was unfair, he didn’t want it to happen. It wasn’t his fucking fault.

The Slytherin prefect scowled at Chester, closing his book with a loud bang. "You have a thick skull Davies, and here I thought Ravenclaws are supposed to be wise." He picked his book up before walking away.

“This isn’t over Rosier, Slytherin will answer for Eliza Mckinnon’s broken leg!” Yelled Chester from behind him and a familiar "SHHHHHHHHHH-" from Madam Pince was heard throughout the library. 

                                                  End Year Six

Who knew Quidditch could ruin friendships? Felix stood up, taking off his black tuxedo jacket and throwing it on the sofa, then he ripped his grey tie off of his neck before throwing it into the fireplace. He hated that one anyway.

Felix wondered if Chester ever thought of him from time to time while unbuttoning his white dress shirt. He remembered his plan for revenge, how pathetic it was. It was filled with restraint and doubt that it was almost laughable. Felix had a feeling that there was more to it than that but the boy was too cowardly to proceed.

Chester never really was the type.

Sebastian Jaeger, the third year Slytherin beater, knocked Elizabeth Mckinnon, the Ravenclaw seeker, off her broom resulting on breaking her leg. Felix saw it all, he was in the front of one of the stands and could see Elizabeth’s leg bent in an odd angle, lying on her back with a pained expression. The blue of her uniform was a contrast to the color green of the Quidditch Pitch.

Up high he caught Sebastian laughing with his teammates, speaking enthusiastically as if he did the best thing ever known to man. A voice echoed in his head.

You taught them that.

YOU. TAUGHT. THEM. THAT.

Felix vowed to never share or teach if he knows the other would use it for nefarious purposes, especially for something like this. It was supposed to be all in good fun, a bit of a twist to the game. 

How wrong he was to believe that those boys would ever think differently and to even assume that they see eye to eye with him-

It made Felix's blood boil.

Mckinnon came out in the infirmary good as new with a nicely healed leg, another miracle made by Madam Pomfrey, and the next Slytherin vs Ravenclaw game was canceled due to the incident. No evidence or punishment was brought down on Jaeger.

Though one afternoon he was seen in the Courtyard, drenched head to toe from being pushed by an unknown force into the fountain. He was humiliated but other than that he came out fine.

Nobody knew who did it but they all guessed it was a Ravenclaw since he was tormenting a Ravenclaw student before getting pushed, and the fact that he almost did kill a student from said house made it even more apparent.

A pair of coffee colored eyes burned straight through the back of his head, sending silent curses his way before disappearing. Leaving him dread a pair of hands would wrap around his neck and choke him.

It never came but something else grasped Felix and he was familiar with it. Regret. Which is by far more worse than any physical blow in his book.

Chester was only one of the few people he knew he could easily call a friend. He was different from the rest, he was open, enthusiastic, and he never minded if Felix just distances himself at odd times. He understood.

That’s why he felt a little guilty when he imagined her there in the room with him, admiring his physique on the sofa where he previously sat. Eyes shining under the soft glow of the fireplace when he discarded his trousers.

He felt something stirring in his lower abdomen and he groaned. Dreams and fantasies are all he has, Felix doesn't want him to take that away from him too.

Pathetic.

Her smile was wide, inviting, almost innocent. Felix thought how cruel life is as he kicked the last remaining piece of clothing off of his body before making his way up to ready himself a bath.

For a thousand time, he replayed a recent memory. Something he just saw only days prior to his sorry state today.

Felix was walking, his cane hitting the ground on one cold cloudy afternoon, he just visited his mother who is still insisting that he marries before he reaches thirty. The woman looked as if he grew a second head when he brushed off the subject and told her that he might never do so.

He only wants one girl and he doesn't want any unwanted distractions from his work.

This doesn't mean that his mother would stop all of this nonsense, she can be very persistent. It's good that he grew up to tolerate it or he would have succumbed for her to leave him alone.

He apparated just outside the building of the Ministry of Magic. Jane, who would be up there somewhere, checking the clock and guessing if he would come or not. 

The Rosier family became a large benefactor to the Ministry since the tarnishing of their family name. It was to 'compensate' for his father's actions and the Ministry was more than happy to accept.

It's important to build a good reputation. His mother coldly stated after the funeral. So that we could have people on our side when the need arises. Granted, most of them are previous Death Eaters, but they're making their way up again and that's all that matters.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

He went up the stairs, taking his sweet time knowing that Court is getting anxious by the minute. Felix likes making her wait, maybe then she would begin to realize that she isn't the big fish in the pond.

The Ministry of Magic is a wide circle of powerful people who cruelly stomp on those that don't benefit them.

Ah, politics.

Felix looked around, head held high when one or two people glance at him one too many times. He was admiring the stunning pillars when he spotted the familiar shade of chestnut colored hair among the crowd.

It was Chester leaning down to give a girl a kiss, he almost didn't recognize him with that hideous full beard he has on. It didn't suit him at all.

He was wearing an ugly brown three-piece suit with a blue trench coat and Felix grimaced at his choices of clothes. He heard that he had become an Auror, specifically a private investigator, after Hogwarts and it was the most unsuitable job he could think of for him.

He had always imagined him to be the kind of man that will be filing papers behind the desk for the rest of his life. Like Jane. He thought, scrutinizing Chester's appearance once more.

He has his silver cane in one gloved hand. His black robes, despite being simple, stood out because of the patterns of snake scales that he couldn't help but admire. It was basic yet elegant and Felix didn't know why he felt the need to compare.

Felix was ready to leave, not wanting to watch anymore, he still has many things to discuss with Jane. Then as he about to do just that, he caught a glimpse of who Chester was with. 

His eyes gradually widened and the grip on his cane tightened, a sharp pain went straight to his chest and he just couldn't believe it.

It was the girl who had forgotten him. The girl he met years ago at his doorstep asking for a look at his family’s vast book collection for 'research'.

Sorry, I didn't mean to be a bother. Angelica told me you have all sorts of books. May I- may I come in and have a look?

She was wearing black trousers with a light blue fitted dress shirt. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, and her eyes were fixed on Chester's bearded face.

And she was blushing.

Chester took off his ugly trenchcoat to wrap it around her and they started walking away from where Felix stood, his hand never leaving her shoulder. They disappeared- no, apparated away so fast that Felix thought that it might have been just his imagination.

But when will he ever imagine Chester being with her so intimately like that?

Felix couldn't remember what Jane told him but he agreed to it, which is bad since he doesn't know what she asked of him and the woman can be devious when she wants to be.

Then he remembered Cole, if it wasn't for her he would not be in this predicament. He wouldn't have met her and that would have saved him a lot of trouble. Is it that horrible? To have the chance to know her? 

Thoughts of them together went back to the forefronts of his mind and it made his chest ache once again. When he reaches his luxurious bathroom, he closed the door behind him with a click.

One thing crossed his mind when he thought of Chester. The man who was leaning down to kiss the only person he seemed to endlessly want.

Felix doesn't envy him.

No.

Not at all.

[palominopup]

A Destiel Short Story.

His right wrist was broken and his left eye was swollen shut. The stench of the garbage cans that lined the alley was not helping the nausea rolling over him from the knee to his balls. He’d picked the wrong guys to hustle. How could he have known the two college kids were on the football team and that half the offensive line was waiting to help their comrades? Dean could have held his own with three or maybe even four of them, but seven wasn’t a lucky number for him. Especially after the few shots of whiskey he’d downed before challenging them to a game of pool. Slowed his reflexes a bit.

“Cas, I know you’re still pissed at me, but I could use your help,” Dean murmured into the filthy concrete. God, he hurt.

The rustle of wings informed him that his angel had arrived. Dean’s one good eye focused on a pair of black dress shoes and the hem of Cas’ signature slacks. The angel’s customary salutation of ‘Hello, Dean’ was conspicuously absent. Dean used his good hand to press himself into an awkward pushup. He gathered his knees under him and swayed at the pain. He looked up. Cas’ face was a blur. A feeling of déjà vu hit him. A few years had passed, but the memory was vivid. He’d been in the same position. On his knees in front of Cas. “I need you,” he said, aiming for the brand of sarcastic humor that was his trademark.

“Don’t.” The word was so cold and so sharp, Dean actually winced and hung his head. He felt the warmth of Cas’ touch and the pain disappeared so fast, his body felt electrified. With both eyes functioning now, Dean looked up again. Cas wasn’t looking at him. And why would he? Dean had fucked up their friendship, just like he fucked up every other good thing that ever happened to him. The only difference is that this one hurt worse. This was an ache he’d carried inside of him since that night. Shit, was it only a month? Seemed like a lifetime.

“Cas, I…” But he was gone. Dean blinked. “Yeah, well, fuck you, Asshole.” Dean got to his feet and grimaced at the state of his clothes. He was gross.

The ride back to the bunker was made with music pounding so loud, Dean couldn’t think. Mission accomplished.

He thanked everything holy that Sam wasn’t awake. He turned on the shower and waited until steam billowed out before stepping under the hot spray. He stared down at his feet and watched the water swirl down the drain. Fuck him. He’d tried to apologize and Cas knew how hard that shit was for him to do. Motherfucker wouldn’t even acknowledge it.

Dean slapped the tiled walls with his hand. It stung. He’d fucked up and now, Cas couldn’t stand to be around him.

It had been a simple salt and burn. Cas had tagged along because…well, Dean didn’t know why, but he didn’t question it. He loved having Cas with him…uh…them. On the way back, Sam and the angel were discussing something intellectual and Dean had tuned them out. They’d stopped at a Gas & Sip to fill up and grab a couple of sodas and that’s when it happened. The clerk was flirting with Cas. It was fucking obnoxious. Then Cas smiled at him…the smile usually reserved for Dean. The words spewed out of his mouth. He’d called the guy a faggot and a few other choice things and threatened to beat the shit out of him. Sam and Cas were both staring at him like he was a fucking creature from outer space. Cas slammed out of the store, Sam was busy apologizing for Dean and Dean stormed out after Cas.

He caught up with him midway between the first row of gas pumps and the Impala. He’d grabbed the angel’s arm and Cas had rounded on him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, Cas…that guy was…”

“A faggot…yes, I got that. I had no idea you were that intolerant.”

“I’m not intolerant. Jesus, Cas, he was…”

“He was attracted to me, Dean. And maybe I was attracted to him too. Guess that makes me a faggot too.”

Too stunned to speak, Dean stood in the flickering fluorescent glow from the station’s lights. Cas must have taken his silence as agreement, because he got this look on his face and disappeared. Just fuckin’ disappeared.

“What the hell was that all about, Dean? The guy in there thinks you’re a homophobic asshole. Where’s Cas?”

Dean didn’t bother answering. He got into the car and slammed the door. A full minute later, he knew because he was counting the seconds, Sam opened the passenger side and folded his long frame into the seat. “Where’s Cas?” He repeated softly.

“Gone.” He’d gotten a serious bitchface for the obvious answer. He thought he heard a muttered ‘Stupid bastard’, but he couldn’t be sure because he’d cranked up the volume and Back in Black boomed out of the speakers.

Dean, in his infinite wisdom, decided to let Cas cool off a few days. Sam wasn’t speaking to him and that was fine. When a week came and went without a word from the angel, Dean finally had enough. He locked his bedroom door and sat on the bed. “Cas, hey, can we talk?”

Nothing.

“I know you can hear me. I’m sorry…alright?”

The radio silence went on for days. Sam kept giving him pitying looks that drove Dean to drink. And drink he did. It was supposed to keep him from thinking. It didn’t.

Cas was his. He wasn’t supposed to be attracted to anyone else. Not that Dean wanted…that. Because he didn’t. They were just friends.

Everyone has a breaking point and Sam’s came a month after the ‘incident’. He cornered Dean in his room, blocking his escape with his Sasquatch body. “Cas deserves to find someone, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, guess he’s off doing that, huh? He sure as hell hasn’t been around here lately.” Dean’s fists were clinched at his side and he felt his nails biting into the flesh of his palms.

“Oh…wow…you’re…you were jealous.”

Dean managed a bark of laughter. “Jealous? Yeah, right.” Only he had been. He’d seen Cas’ smile directed at someone else and he’d gotten so damn angry.

“Cas has loved you for…for fucking ever, Dean. And you give him nothing in return. Is it so hard for you to believe he would try to move on? Maybe find someone who would return his feelings?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam. Just shut up,” Dean snarled and shoved Sam out of the way. And that’s how he found himself just this side of drunk and hustling boys a hell of a lot bigger than him.

Cas might have loved him. He’d proved it enough times over the years. Dean just didn’t want to see it. John Winchester would roll over in his proverbial grave if he know Dean had those kinds of thoughts about a man. Yes, Cas might have loved him, but he sure as hell didn’t now.

Dean shut the water off and grabbed a towel. He quickly dried off and wrapped it around his waist. In his haste to get clean, he’d forgotten to bring his robe or even a pair of underwear with him. On the way to his room, he paused at the door to Cas’ room. He’d cleaned out the room himself, adding a couple of cheap particle-board bookcases from Walmart. He’d even picked up a blue bedspread. It had meant a lot to Cas…having his own room…knowing he had a home with them.

He pushed open the door and flipped the light switch. The bookcases were filled with books…mostly old, dusty tomes, but some paperbacks were shoved between them. Vonnegut, Cussler, even a Stephen King. Dean trailed a finger over the spines. There were other things on the selves. A jar of honey Dean had picked up at a roadside stand. A framed picture. How had Dean never seen it? He picked it up. The frame was cheap. The photo was of the two of them leaning on the Impala. It was the day they dropped Claire off at Jody’s place. Claire must have taken it. The breeze ruffled Cas’ hair and Dean was looking at him like he hung the moon. “Cas…please.” He bent his head and prayed for one more chance.

The air around him crackled with static and the smell of ozone filled his nostrils. Cas stared at the picture in Dean’s hands, but didn’t speak.

��Sam said you deserved someone to…to…return you feelings.” Cas’ expression remained stoic. Dean took a deep breath. “You know me, Cas. I’m not homophobic. Love is love, man.” The angel remained still as a statue except for a flicker of something in those beautiful, blue eyes. “I know it’s too late for me to…you know…but if you want…that gas station isn’t that far away. You could still see if…”

“This emotion I feel...it is confusing and unwanted,” Cas said softly. Dean didn’t realize how badly he missed hearing that deep, gravelly voice until that instant. “It was nice to have someone look at me and find something they…like. I…Claire said that I should try dating.” His use of the unfamiliar word would have been humorous if it hadn’t cut Dean to the bone. He’d talked to Claire. Why hadn’t he come to Dean? Oh, yeah, because Dean was the sorry motherfucker that Cas thought didn’t return his feelings. “I’ve heard songs say to find someone else if you can’t be with…the person you want.”

“If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with,” Dean quoted the old Crosby, Stills and Nash song. Cas reached out and took the picture from Dean. He looked down at it for a few moments before putting it back on the shelf.

“I value your friendship, Dean. I hope that my attraction towards the same sex doesn’t…”

“Damn it, Cas. Don’t you dare bump me into the friend zone…not now. Not when I’ve finally got my head out of my ass.” Dean raked his hands through his hair and realized he was still wearing just a towel. Not the ideal attire for a serious conversation. “You want to know the truth about that night in the Gas & Sip? I was jealous. Okay? The way he was flirting with you and you…you smiled at him. You gave him the smile that somehow manages to turn me on every fuckin’ time you do it. And the thought of you and him…” Dean thought back to that moment. How it felt like something inside him was clawing its way out. “Fuck…” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have only said these words to two people in my entire life. My mom and Sam.” Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I love you, Cas.”

“Dean…” Dean held up his hands, keeping his eyes tightly shut. He didn’t want to see Cas’ face when he said it was too late for his declaration.

“No…it’s cool. I get that you need to move on…spread your wings.” Dean laughed and noted the touch of hysteria in the sound. “Sorry, bad pun.” He felt Cas’ fingertips on his lips and he opened startled eyes. Somehow, Cas had closed the distance between them. Their eyes met and held.

“I have loved you a long time, Dean. At first, I could not identify what I was feeling. When I finally understood, I didn’t think it could ever be reciprocated. You liked only women.”

“About that…” Dean started, his skin heating. “I’ve had thoughts about men…I mean, before you came strutting in that barn like a bad-assed motherfucker…” The memory flashed through Dean’s mind and he remembered how damn hot Cas looked. “Back when I was younger, but Dad…Dad would have beaten the shit out of me. Hell, he’d probably sent me to one of those camps where they electrocute you until you promise to only have sexy thoughts about the opposite sex forever and ever, amen. I’ve done a lot of window shopping, Cas, but I’ve never strolled into the shop and wanted to buy something.”

Cas was blinking at him in obvious confusion. Maybe the shop analogy wasn’t the best way to explain his latent bisexual urges. “I don’t understand that…”

“Reference,” Dean finished for him and giggled. He hadn’t heard Cas complain about not understanding something ever since Metatron installed eons of pop culture in Cas’ brain. “I’m just trying to tell you that I haven’t ever…had…sex…with a dude, but I’d love to practice…you know…until I get it right.”

And there it was. That smile. The soft curve of his upper lip, slightly higher on the right side, making it a bit lopsided. “I believe we can practice together, Dean.”

“Cool. Yeah, uhm.” Dean’s palms were suddenly sweaty. He hoped Cas didn’t want to practice now, because Dean was scared shitless. He would like to kiss those lips…but first… “Cas, would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Cas’ brow furrowed. “A date, Cas. I’m asking you on a date.”

“A date,” Cas repeated and the soft smile morphed into a grin. “Yes, I’d like that, Dean.”

“Great…well, I’ll just…I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘Night, Cas.” Dean moved around Cas and stopped at the doorway.

“Goodnight, Dean.” He made it to his room and managed to shut the door before the fist pump and the odd dance that made the towel fall to the floor.

He had a date…with Cas…with the man he was madly, crazy stupid in love with. Sam was going to freak. Dean frowned. Probably not. Sam would just roll his eyes and say ‘about time’. Dean crashed onto his bed and grinned. Yep, about time.