#I keep forgetting dates and friend dates and plans because I’m so busy with work

[itsschwee]

🙃

[messedupfan]

Chapter 23

Summary: In order to have a dating life without the pressure of friends and family knowing, Wanda and Reader plan dates to meet at each other's places for romantic dinners. They tend to dance a lot.

A/n: Sorry y'all meant to post earlier today but had to walk Brady then had to make my food. I apologize for any and all errors, I haven't really been editing the chapters since I've gotten so busy but I LOVE this story sooooo much! I hope y'all enjoy!

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The alarm on your phone wakes you. It’s early on a Monday morning. The sun isn’t up yet but you have to be in order to make it to the job site at your scheduled time. You wish you could sleep in, but unfortunately you won’t get to do that for the next four mornings. As you yawn and stretch, you feel a hand pull you down. “No,” she groans, making you laugh as you continue to stretch. 

“I have work,” you remind her as you fall against her. Feeling your normally tense body relax into her warm embrace. Your muscles feel like jelly and you want to close your eyes for just five more minutes. But you don’t. You just know that those five minutes could be ten, twenty, an hour, or worse.  

“No,” she repeats as she snuggles closer, her eyes remaining closed as she does. 

“And what do I tell your brother when he calls asking me why I’m not at work?” You ask as you adjust to look at her. Wanda’s hair is a mess, her face is a little puffier than usual, she looks serene. You cup her cheek with your hand and lightly rub your thumb back and forth. 

Wanda leans into your touch and a content sigh escapes her lips. “Easy, you don’t answer,” she smirks as she presses her lips to the palm of your jaw. You shake your head with a soft laugh.

“So I shouldn’t tell him that his twin is refusing to let me leave her bed?” you tease and Wanda scrunches her face. She pushes you back and you grin.

“Gross, he’ll think we’re doing a lot more than snuggling and sleeping,” she covers her face as she shakes her head. Then she finally opens her eyes. “Besides, I think that goes against that whole keeping this between us thing.” 

You lean in and kiss her cheek, “Exactly, I’m going. Have a good day,” you swiftly move out of the warmth of the cozy bed and her arms and Wanda pouts as you do but she doesn’t put up more of a resistance. She sighs with a slight disappointment this time as the bed grows cool in your absence. She climbs out and stretches as she wakes her body up. 

“Are you going to come back tonight?” She asks as she shamelessly watches you undress. The two of you are still waiting to be physically intimate as the two of you continue to develop the emotional intimacy of the relationship in order to build a strong foundation. But as her eyes roam your body, she is beginning to forget why the two of you need to wait in the first place. 

You are lost in thought as you change and consider your answer. Uncertain if today is the day you had to pick up Rachel and Jean from the airport. It has been two weeks since the disastrous first date. You and Wanda had your second date on Wednesday of that week then your third and fourth that weekend. The week she had her boys, you needed to work on finishing orders for your side business and Wanda would sneak in from time to time to chat and maybe the two of you even made out a couple of times. 

Last night wasn’t a date outside of the house. It wasn’t even meant to be a date. It was a last minute invite and you weren’t up for much because you were working all Saturday and most of yesterday working for a delivery service to help catch up on the bills. “Um, let me check my,” you pick up your phone and look up the flight itinerary for Rachel and Jean. “Yeah, I can come back tonight. I don’t pick up the girls until Thursday… morning? Ugh, that’s going to be brutal. I need to warn your brother.” 

Wanda shakes her head with a disgusted expression. “Please, just say boss. It’s hurting my brain how much you have to run by my brother.” 

You smile and nod as you pull your work polo over your head and arms and straighten yourself out. “Alright, that’s not a problem,” you walk across the room towards her and wrap your arms around her and give her a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you,” you say. 

Wanda scrunches her nose as she catches a whiff of your sour morning breath, but she kisses you again anyway. “I love you and your stinky breath.” 

You wink at her with a wide grin before walking to her bathroom to use the toothbrush that you left here the last time.  You start brushing your teeth and she follows to brush her teeth at the sink next to the one you’re standing in front of. When the two of you exchange a glance, you wink at her and she shakes her head. 

~~~~

Wanda looks at her phone as she receives the last message you’ll be sending her for the rest of the week. Even though it’s the middle of the summer, you are finally taking Rachel on the annual camping trip. “Why do you look upset?” Pietro asks as he tries to look over her shoulder to get a glance at her screen just in case it’s a message from Vision. 

Wanda is quick to hide her phone. “Dude! Mind your business!” She says with the screen of her phone pressed against her chest. 

“Dude? Really? What are we, twelve?” He shakes his head and grabs a handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table. 

“Yeah, when you’re trying to look at my phone and you’re eating like that!” Wanda doubles down and Pietro slows down his chewing but his mouth is still full of chips, giving him chipmunk cheeks. 

“What?” He asks dumbly. Wanda shakes her head and looks back at her phone as she tries to think of a response to your message before it’s too late. “This is my house, you know?” Pietro states as he adds the rest of the fist full of chips into his mouth. 

Wanda is visiting to finally meet her new niece. She has spent a couple hours doting over the baby while she anxiously checked her phone for messages from you. Now her boys are with their aunt, she is watching them as they each take turns holding the baby in the rocking chair in the nursery. Pietro told her that you had gifted it and Wanda recalls watching you make pieces of the chair but she doesn’t remember seeing you take it out. But it was a sturdy and comfortable chair. She had to hide how proud it made her feel to see the chair you made actually being used and shown off. 

“It still amazes me that you ever found someone to love all of this,” Wanda gestures with her hand waving it in a circle of her brother's face and body. 

“Whatever, you’re just jealous that I found someone I can be myself with,” he says as he puts his boots on top of the coffee table while crossing his legs. 

“Pietro! Get your shoes off of my coffee table!” Crystalia shouts from the other room. “And wipe it down!” She orders. 

Pietro quickly drops his feet to the ground and sits up. “Yes dear!” He shouts back as he gets up from the couch. Wanda watches with amusement and Pietro looks at his twin once he’s standing. “Not a word,” he warns. Wanda, unable to help herself, makes a whip sound as she flicks her wrist with a smirk. “I’m going to remember that,” he says as he walks away.

~~~~

The day you come back from the camping trip with Rachel, you're happy to find that Jean has moved out of your apartment. You find your room clean and without a bunch of overflowing luggages scattered on the floors. The bed is made with clean sheets. Your bathroom is clean with no evidence of makeup or used feminine products. The apartment no longer smells like Jean’s perfume. That was the best part. It almost felt like she was spraying it around as a substitute for an air freshener. So to have the apartment smelling like anything but her is a real relief. Rachel is happy to have a clean room to return to as well. The apartment doesn't feel as cramped with the bed in the living room finally folded away. 

You call Jean to find out if you should drop Rachel off at her house. But she doesn't pick up the first couple of times. When she finally does, she is irritated and breathless. “Hey, we're back. Do you want me to bring Rach over to you?” You ask, keeping your voice low in case Jean doesn't want Rachel at her house yet. 

“Oh shit what day is it?” Jean says and you can hear Anna giggle in the back stating that she doesn't know and doesn't care. You pinch the bridge of your nose as you let her know that it's Sunday. “Right, right, it's my week now. Okay. Yeah, give me…” she mutes herself for a couple of minutes. “Okay, okay, give us a couple of hours. I'll, we'll, the house will be ready. We need to clean up.” She is panting between words and you have to refrain from groaning out of disgust. But it's better off that she's jumping into bed with her wife instead of trying to seduce you. 

The night she kissed you wasn't the only time she made a pass at you. She tried a few nights later, while you were asleep. She crawled into the uncomfortable sofa bed with you and snuggled up against you. Her touch woke you up almost instantly and not in the way she preferred. You were repulsed by the idea of ever being with her ever again. You had to explain that to her in detail a couple of times before she finally understood to leave you alone. 

You shudder at the memory once you hang up the phone. You tell Rachel to take a nap but you don't tell her that you'll be taking her to her mom's house. You don't want to excite her, she needs to be resting. You step out to your balcony to call Wanda. 

“Hello?” Wanda sounds a little out of breath herself. 

“Hey,” you say as you try to figure out what she could be doing. 

“Y/n! Oh my goodness! You're back earlier than I thought you'd be!” She says excitedly. “Sorry, I'm on my treadmill. I didn't check to see who was calling.” You can hear her press a couple of buttons and the soft hum of the machine in the background slowly comes to an end. “Hey you, how are you doing?” She asks as she is catching her breath. You wish that you could be the reason she is breathless. You wish you were the one entangled with Wanda warning Jean that you need some time before she can drop off Rachel. 

“I'm doing good, it was a long drive. I can't wait to see you,” you say as you lean against the railing of the balcony. You look out to the busy view that the location of your apartment building provides you. 

“That's sweet,” Wanda sighs and you can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you think you'll get to?” 

“Jean moved out when I was gone so I was thinking,” you check over your shoulder to be certain that Rachel isn't within ear shot. “After I drop Rachel off with her mom, maybe I can stop by and see you?” 

Wanda takes a moment to answer, you can hear her swallowing her water for a moment. You wait kind of nervously before but maintaining patience. “Just stop by or do you think you can spend the night too?” 

Your smile widens. “I could be convinced but I don't know.” 

“I missed you,” she says softly. “Come on,” her volume lifts slightly as she pleads with you. “Spend the night with me. Hell, spend the week with me.” 

“That's a little fast, don't you think?” The words fall out of you before you could stop them. You're a little surprised that you're thinking about slowing things down between the two of you. All week, the only thing you could think about was being in her bed with her. Laughing with her. Crying with her. Playfully arguing with her. You laugh a little to try and play it off as a joke but you aren't certain if you meant the statement or not. 

“Well, considering that we're still waiting,” Wanda speaks slowly, dragging out her words. “I mean, I suppose it's a little fast to have you move in for a week,” she goes quiet for a moment. You are biting your nail on your thumb as you wait for her to continue. “But you know what? I don't care,” her voice sounds more certain, more confident. “I want you here. I want you to go to work and come back here. I want to make dinners with you. I want you here as much as possible.” 

You chuckle softly as you think about it. But then decide not to overthink it. You've spent too much time thinking. You want to take this small leap with Wanda. “Alright, I'll pack my bags then,” you state calmly and confidently. 

“Wait, are you serious?” She sounds slightly surprised but mostly excited. 

“Yeah, I'm serious,” you confirm. “I need to go if I'm going to sneak my bags inside the truck before Rachel can ask me about anything. I'll see you soon. I love you,” you say as you hold the handle of the door so you can enter the bedroom. 

“Okay, yeah, I'll see you soon. I love you,” her excitement is contagious as you feel a rush of energy and joy. You can't rid yourself of your wide grin as you hang up and start to get ready for your week with Wanda. 

~~~~

“...’Cause you feel like home. You’re like a dream come true,”  you hold Wanda close with your eyes closed as the two of you dance to the song. The two of you were enjoying dinner together at her home. She hasn’t let you take her out since you talked to her about your financial situation in depth. Wanda refused to let you do anything to spoil her, especially after how much you spent on her for the first date. You tried to assure her that you budgeted for it but she was adamant that the dates be affordable and that they didn’t need to be of any extravagance. 

“Expensive dates aren’t what makes a relationship great anyway. I think we both know that by now. I just want to be able to spend time with you,” she assured you when you were trying to assure her that you don't mind spending money on her. 

As the two of you continue to dance around the living room you can't help but think of the first time you and Wanda danced together. In the backyard with the sun setting and a bottle and a half of wine in your systems. Or was it two bottles? You don't remember, but it was a minor detail. What you do remember in detail was how much you wanted to kiss her. How much you wanted to feel connected to her. How much you wanted to be her partner. Now here you are, dancing with her once again. You still feel that way except now, you can kiss her when you want. And you do. Now you feel more connected to her than ever. Now you consider yourself her partner. 

“Can you believe it? Our kids are starting middle school soon?” Wanda whispers as her eyes fall on a framed baby photo of her boys as she looks over your shoulder. 

You shake your head as you continue to sway with her. “No, I can't believe it. I still keep thinking that Rachel is too young to be moving on to middle school. But she won't stop reminding me with how excited she is about it.” 

Wanda takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I keep eavesdropping on the boys because Tommy is constantly talking to Billy about all of the hot girls that are going to be at their middle school.” 

You scrunch your face, “Please, he hangs out with my daughter. I need to be able to sleep at night. I beg you, tell me you're lying.” 

“Oh come on. They made an entire plan to become siblings. I doubt Tommy or Billy will be looking at Rachel in that way,” Wanda says in a reassuring tone. But there's a hint of doubt in her words because she can't be certain of something like that until you and her reveal the relationship to the kids.

“Oh I'm not worried about Billy. But now I'm going to keep a close eye on Tommy,” you say jokingly and Wanda stops moving with you. 

“What?” She steps back slightly. “What do you mean you're not worried about Billy?” 

You shrug and shake your head. “No particular reason.” 

“Come on,” she presses. 

“No, it's nothing. It's just, I don't think Rachel would be his type,” you say as you try to steer away from the conversation. “It's getting late, we should get ready for bed.” You say as you step away and check your watch then find the remote to shut off the music. 

“Why wouldn't Rachel be his type?” She doesn’t want to let this go because lately she’s been feeling a little disconnected from her sons. A comment like that gives her the impression that you know something she doesn’t. “What do you know?” Wanda says as she follows closely behind. 

“Nothing, I don't know anything,” you say as you shut off lights on the way towards the stairs. 

“The way you're saying that makes me feel like you know something,” Wanda continues to pester you for information all the way to the bedroom. You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. Wanda stands in front of you as she waits to hear the answers she's looking for, not allowing you to dismiss the topic of conversation. 

“Remember when we sat the kids down and explained my pronouns and what being non-binary means to me?” You ask as you take Wanda’s hands into each of yours. She nods as her eyebrows start to crease. “Well, Billy has had some…” you trail off as you try to search through your vocabulary that will best describe your recent conversations with Billy. “Curiosities lately. I don't know anything for certain. I'm not saying that he is anything. I'm not outting him because he hasn't confirmed anything. The questions could mean absolutely nothing. Just, prepare yourself. Billy might not be… I don't know how to put it. He might not be like Tommy.” 

Wanda pulls your interlocked hands up to cover her face. You're a little confused by her exasperated reaction. She’s dating you. She’s been with women in the past. Why would something like her son potentially being queer be upsetting to her. “He is going to have such a hard time at his father's house soon,” she mutters and that's when it clicks for you. She's not upset about her son's sexuality because she wants him to be heterosexual. She's concerned for his well-being in his father's home. 

“Did he know that you were queer?” You ask, curious of how they got married if Vision wasn’t as open minded as Wanda. 

“Yeah,” she sighs as she drops your laced hands down to her sides. “Don't judge me,” she starts as she keeps her head down, “in my defense I was in my early twenties.” She takes a deep breath and bites her lips. “But he's… he liked that about me because he thinks it's okay for women to be a little more sexually open because he finds it hot. And I didn’t realize how misogynistic and homophobic he was until we found out that we were having two boys.” 

You nod slowly as you start to grow worried for Billy as well. You remember how unaccepting your father was of the way you acted while you were growing up. You even remember the advice he'd given you when you told him about getting Jean pregnant. That he wanted you to quit being so “frilly” and to start acting like the child he wanted. That life is already confusing enough for a child, they don’t need to have a parent that lives a confusing lifestyle. 

He's only now starting to come around to the idea of you not being the gender conforming person he always wanted you to be. But you could handle his criticisms and his comments about you. Billy is a sweet and sensitive boy and Vision is a lot tougher on his boys than your father ever was. 

“What do you think we should do?” You ask Wanda as you let go of her hands and stand up to wrap your arms around her and pull her body close. Wanda melts in your arms and with her eyes closed she leans her forehead against your shoulder. She breathes you in as your words hit her. Just the simple way you asked the question made her feel more supported than years in her marriage did. 

You rub her back as you wait for her answer. Your mind races with solutions but none of them being helpful or worth suggesting. “I don't know,” Wanda finally says. “I guess it's just…” she shakes her head and leans back to look at you. “It's just one of those things that's out of my hands. I can't keep Billy away from his father. And I hardly know what's going on at that house. He's finally convinced them to stop telling me what goes on over there. So, I'm just going to have to be sure that he knows he can be free to be himself here.” 

You nod and press your lips to her forehead before leaning your forehead against hers. “He's going to be okay,” you assure her. Wanda’s hands move to your shoulders and gives them a light squeeze.

“I hope you're right,” she says with a lump forming in her throat.

~~~~

You are sitting with Steve and Bucky in Steve's apartment. You have finally forgiven Steve for not talking to you about his relationship with Peggy and Bucky and Natasha. After starting your private relationship with Wanda, you could understand why he was private with the development in his life. 

Steve was going through a lot that he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be public. First, he and Peggy had given up on the relationship. But they were sticking together for appearances but they were miserable around each other. You weren't the best at giving relationship advice and completely missed that Steve wanted out of the relationship whenever he tried to talk to you about it. 

Then he met Bucky and felt an attraction that he'd never felt before towards a man. It confused him and while he dealt with those feelings, Peggy could feel him pulling away and eventually she got tired of fooling herself. They were private people as it was so there wasn't a big announcement of their split of any kind. That's where you thought that your friend had been cheating on his partner of several years. 

You felt like a shit when you realized that you weren't there for your friends as they navigated new feelings towards one another. But Steve and Bucky assured you that they didn't bring it up to you because of the problems you were facing at the time. And that they preferred to talk about it with each other. Then Darcy caught on and it was easier to come out to her since she didn't make a big deal out of it. 

Then you asked about Bucky’s girlfriend because he was also in a relationship with a woman by the time he met Steve. That's when he revealed that they were still figuring that out because Steve also had feelings towards Natasha. But they all felt weird about the “throuple” label. Steve especially wasn't prepared to deal with the backlash of coming out as possibly bi-sexual and then add being possibly polyamorous to that. He was already disowned from the majority of his family for dropping out of the military. He couldn't risk losing the family he had left. So, officially, he is single. But unofficially, he is seeing both Bucky and Natasha. Sometimes separately and sometimes together. 

“No way, Nat and Wanda?” You ask as you pop another beer open. You are shocked to hear about the relationship from someone other than Wanda. But you knew she felt some shame over the amount of people she was hooking up with. You try to tell her that it doesn't bother you but she still feels a type of way about the behavior. You hope that when you're finally able to be physically intimate with her that you'll be able to help her see that it wasn't wrong for her to explore her sexuality the way she had. 

Bucky nods, “Oh yeah, she told me everything. I couldn't believe it either. I mean, I've only met Wanda less than a handful of times but I never thought she was the type. She broke poor Nat’s heart.” 

Your eyes widen, “Really? Wow, I had no idea. I thought they seemed a little weird towards each other at the New Year's Eve party. But honestly, knowing her ex-husband, I thought maybe Nat had been with him and Wanda knew.” You tip the bottle against your lips as you make a mental note to talk to Wanda about Natasha. “It's crazy how much we can miss about each other’s lives if we're not on each other twenty four seven.”

Steve and Bucky share a laugh as they agree and drink their beers. “Yeah, I think Darcy mentioned that Jean was living with you for some time. How was that?” Steve asks, he's never gotten along with Jean and he never bothered to get to know Anna. Although she would try to approach him in conversation at gatherings that you'd host. That's where Peggy would come in and either take over the conversation or come up with an excuse to get him away from her. 

You groan at the memory as you nod to confirm. “It was starting to feel like she was never going to leave. It wasn't a fair situation and I was not about to let Anna get the house. If they went through with a divorce. But they seemed to have patched things up and Anna is treating Rachel like she's her daughter again. I don't know. The whole thing has put a bad taste in my mouth but I can't do anything about what they do. I can only do my best to protect Rachel.” 

Steve shakes his head and mutters insults about the women to himself. You don't catch half of it and you don't ask him to repeat himself. Bucky shakes his head and scoffs. “I couldn't do it. You're a tough one for putting up with all of that, Y/n,” Bucky commends you as he puts his hand on your shoulder. 

You shrug, “It's not easy but that's what you agree to when you have kids. When there was a choice, that is.” All three of you shake your heads and take a sip of beer before you continue. “I don't know that I'd recommend it but Rachel is great. She's far from being the problem. Every family has their issues and I guess that's what makes them family.” You sigh deeply as you look at the screen. The three of you were watching some show on a streaming network that had just released its most recent season. Well, more like it's releasing its most recent season weekly. You don't like that they started to do that but it did help bring you and Steve back together because it's a show that the two of you have watched together since it came out. Now you're here every week on the night the latest episode is uploaded. The three of you pay attention to the rest of the episode as you push away the image of Natasha and Wanda out of your mind. 

~~~~

“I just want to know why you didn't tell me it was Nat that you were seeing last summer,” you ask as you follow Wanda to your bedroom. She wanted to see what it would be like to live with you for the week in your space. It's been a few weeks since that night at Steve's apartment. You haven't brought it up to Wanda until now because you were keeping it out of your mind. Then, somehow, you don't really remember how… it got brought up. 

“Because, it's embarrassing! Besides, you don't see me asking about everyone you ever slept with!” Wanda says as she waves her hands around. 

“That's because you've already met them all,” you remind her with the same energy she was throwing at you.

“So what, are you calling me a whore now?” She asks with a pointed look. 

“What?! How the hell did you get that idea?” You are thrown off by the accusation. 

“You're not denying it,” Wanda states defensively. 

You shake your head. “No, I'm not calling you a whore because I don't think you're a whore. I just…” you take a moment to think before you speak and make things worse. “You don't have to talk about every hook up. I would just like a heads up whenever I meet them. Or at least if I meet them around you. Like what happened with that one waitress. Did I get upset with you and call you a whore then?” You use your first date as an example because you felt like you handled that pretty well. 

Wanda looks away and bites her lips in thought. “No, but how do I know that you weren't thinking it?” She asks as crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Because, Wanda, you are supposed to trust me when I tell you that I love you and that I don't judge you. Especially for things you did before we started dating.” You step closer in an attempt to disarm her. You gently place both of your hands on her shoulders and gaze into her big green eyes full of insecurities. “I don't judge you, Wanda. I don't think you're a whore, Wanda. I love you, Wanda.” You move your hands up to cup her cheeks and hold her head in your hands. 

Wanda melts to your touch and untangles her arms. She puts her hands on your waist and clutches the fabric of your shirt. Tears spring to her eyes as you maintain your eye contact. Your tone not wavering once. She has no choice but to listen and believe you. 

“You better mean that,” she says as her tears start to uncontrollably fall. You pull her close in a tight embrace to hold her while she breaks down. Free to cry in front of you and process her emotions in your arms. You love her and show her as much as you continue to listen and try to understand where she was coming from when she got upset. 

~~~~

Pietro sits back in his lounge chair as he observes you and Wanda at the grill. It's the end of summer and Wanda thought it would be a good idea to host an end of summer party for the kids. She invited everyone in her inner circle. Agatha and her son Nicholas, Carol and Val, him and his family, and you and your daughter. You and Wanda were chatting quietly to one another while Wanda grilled the meat options. There was something different about the two of you. He couldn't put his finger on it. 

Crystalia bounces Emma in her arms as she returns to Pietro's side. “What are you staring at?” She asks her husband as she sits on the chair beside his. 

“Do they seem… closer?” He asks his wife. Pietro wasn't typically one to gossip or speculate but he knows he can trust his wife with his thoughts. 

Crystalia shakes her head. “Oh no, don't go there again. Come on, it was bad enough you lost money over a stupid bet. Just, leave your sister alone. You know how she can be. Even if there is something to talk about, she's not going to do it if you go badgering her about her personal life.” Then she looks over at you and Wanda and notices the way you're standing close to her in-law. She catches onto the way the two of you smile at each other. How Wanda's eyes flit to your lips and how yours do the same. “Huh, at best they're hooking up,” she says to confirm her husband's suspicions. 

Pietro sits up and takes off his sunglasses. “So you see it too?” He looks like he's about to get up and say something to the couple they're spying on. So Crystalia places Emma in Pietro's hands. “Crys, I can't just let this go. Y/n is my friend, yes, but they're also my employee. This… I have to put a stop to this or do something.” He looks down at the little girl in his hands as she giggles and slobbers on herself. He grins at her then gives his wife a pointed look.

“Pietro, Y/n is your employee but Wanda isn't. They're not breaking any rules. Besides, we don't know anything for certain. Just,” she sighs and gets settled into her seat. “Just relax and leave them alone. They're both adults. And it's not like you haven't said before that you would be thrilled if they got together because you like Y/n and think they'd be perfect together. Honestly, if they did get together, it'd probably be your fault to begin with.” 

Pietro makes a face at the accusation and Emma giggles as she reaches out to touch her father's face. “What are you talking about?” 

Crystalia shrugs, “When Rachel was having problems in school, you suggested that Y/n put her in the same school our nephews attend. And you know how involved that school requires parents to be.” 

Pietro shrugs, “It's a really good school. That doesn't mean anything.” 

Crystalia doesn't buy it. “Oh yeah? Was it really a coincidence that you started to put together company events right after Wanda and Vision split up? No one invited their siblings to those things unless they work for the company but you were constantly inviting Wanda.” 

“She was having a hard time. I thought she could’ve used a reason to get out of the house. She only went to one of those things anyway. And Y/n couldn't even show up to that event,” Pietro defends and his wife scowls. 

“You can't remember our anniversary but you can remember that?” Crystalia asks, only to prove her point. Pietro shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “When Wanda needed work to be done on the house, you asked Y/n to help you. I know you keep saying that it's because they're the best worker or whatever, but you literally could've patched up the wall by yourself. And you would've never acted on extending the house without the appropriate permits the way you did.” 

Pietro shakes his head as he continues to deny this theory his wife has about him essentially being a puppet master for you and his sister. “Okay, I don't think they're together, you just made me realize how crazy I sounded. Because you sound completely mental.” 

“Don't call me mental in front of our daughter,” Crystalia warns. 

“I'm sorry, you're right. Mommy isn't mental Emma,” he whispers to his daughter. She pats his face and starts to tug on his facial hair. He chuckles as he looks up at his wife. “But you've got to admit, you're giving me a lot more credit than I'm worth. You really think I'm that thoughtful?” Crystalia can't help but agree with that statement and decides to drop the subject altogether. 

~~~~

You and Wanda are lounging on her sofa. You are lying vertically on the part of the couch that extends forward. Wanda is lying horizontally along the length of the sofa with her head in your lap. You have your fingers in her hair as you periodically massage her scalp. As the movie begins to lose her attention, she looks up at you and starts to watch you watch the movie. You're zeroed in and completely focused on the plot. She doesn't know how you could find such a movie interesting but she doesn't mind watching you this way instead. 

You don't realize that Wanda's focus is on you until you feel something lightly tickling your stomach. You look down and notice that Wanda is trying to lift your shirt up. “What are you doing?” You ask, startling her slightly. She looks up at you with wide eyes from being caught.

“Nothing,” she shrugs as she removes her hand from your shirt and looks up at you. 

“You wanted to watch this movie, remember?” You remind her with a teasing tone.

“Yeah, well, I lost interest,” she says as she sits up. She moves so that she's sitting on her knees. Wanda bites her bottom lip as she looks at you. “Besides, we've watched plenty of movies together. I think I'm in the mood for something else.” She says as she inches closer to you. She puts her hand on your chest and you raise your eyebrows at her. 

“Do you want to put on some music and dance?” You ask, not wanting to read too much into her touch and actions. But she shakes her head as she maintains eye contact and moves to lock her arms around your neck. “Do you think we're ready for that?” You ask as you catch onto what she's getting at. 

“I'm ready,” she says as she kisses your cheek. “Are you?” She says as she crawls onto your lap. You don't have to give her much of a verbal answer because you can feel that burning desire growing in your body. A desire you haven't felt for anyone before. Even the desire you had for Jean when you were a teenager pales in comparison. You kiss Wanda’s lips and place your hands on her hips. 

“I'm ready,” you say in a harsh whisper. Wanda giggles as she had already gathered that much. She has her hands on your cheeks to keep you close and pull you in to continue kissing you. As her hands hold you steady, your hands begin to explore her body. Your touch is almost as greedy as a teenager experiencing something like this for the first time. Yes, you've touched her body many times since the two of you have started dating. But not like this. Not without restrictions. You are free to explore her however you want and that notion has you aimless with excitement. You don't know where to start first or where to keep your hands. You have to remind yourself that there is plenty of time to explore every inch of her. If not tonight then another night. 

Wanda breaks the kiss and crawls off of your lap and stands up. She looks down at you with a grin. She tips her head towards the stairs. “Come on,” she invites you with her hand out to you. 

You shuffle off of the sofa and rise. You take her hand and all her to guide her towards her room to finally cross the line both of you have been painstakingly avoiding until now.

Chapter 24

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @diealittlesometime @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm @casualreadersstuff @neopolitan-torchwick

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part five

authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!

so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.

also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.

i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 5.7k

tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”

You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.

Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”

“Because you’re so busy?”

“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”

He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”

You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.

Can I call Joe?

A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.

What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 

It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 

Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 

“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.

“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”

His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”

He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 

Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”

“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”

There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.

Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?

“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 

“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”

This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”

“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”

And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 

“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”

Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.

True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”

He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 

You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.

You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 

“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”

Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.

And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 

“Can I call Joe when I get home?”

Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”

In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?

Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 

The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 

Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.

You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 

And just age in general. 

But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 

“Look mommy, more boxes!”

The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.

She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.

You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 

Gifts.

From Joe. 

In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 

She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 

When the hell did she grab those?

“Can I open them, please? Please?”

A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.

“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”

You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 

Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.

He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.

Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 

Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 

Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 

Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 

You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 

“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  

“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?

It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”

Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”

You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 

Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 

Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 

You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.

You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 

You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 

Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.

Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.

You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.

You: Omg

You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?

It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 

 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 

Joe: She has a whole playroom.

You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 

Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️

You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.

She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.

And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.

You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.

You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 

You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 

His reply comes almost immediately this time around.

Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.

And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 

Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 

A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.

You open it right away. 

Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 

You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 

You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 

Who cares that you will be too.

________

Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 

Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?

Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.

It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 

She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.

Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 

“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”

“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”

“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”

Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.

“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 

“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”

“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 

He hates a man he’s never even met.

“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”

“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 

He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.

Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 

“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.

Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”

“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”

The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 

“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”

At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 

“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 

Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”

She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”

He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.

“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”

Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 

Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 

And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 

________

Joe: You should know she called me last night.

You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.

You: I’m aware….

Joe: No. After that. 

Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  

You: What? when?

Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.

You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?

You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 

Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.

You: A bad dream?

Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.

Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.

Joe: Who is Amir?

You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 

You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.

You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 

You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 

It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 

That you’re not with Amir.

Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?

The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.

Sorta.

You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 

You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.

Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?

Joe: You bring him around her?

You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 

Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.

But fuck it.

You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 

There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.

To some extent.

But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.

Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 

Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 

Is he entirely wrong?

Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 

You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 

You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.

Joe: It is. Thank you.

Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?

You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.

Joe: Seriously? 

Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 

You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.

It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 

You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.

He doesn’t reply. 

________

Joe doesn’t really get mad. 

Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 

It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 

Except for when it comes to you.

You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.

He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.

Hence your crudity. 

Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 

But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.

“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”

At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 

Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 

“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 

“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 

Usually. 

So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.

“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”

That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”

“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”

Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”

At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.

“Thanks.”

Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 

It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 

But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 

The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.

And find out where you stand as well. 

Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (4)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!

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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.

“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”

I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”

He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”

Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”

He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.

“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”

“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”

Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.

I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”

“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”

“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”

There was a pregnant pause. 

“I miss you too.”

I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us. 

Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.

“Going soft, kid?” Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”

“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”

“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”

“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”

I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”

“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, bug.”

I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.

Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates

Andy: Be careful

Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now

Me: See you in a sec

Me: Should I be worried?

I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot. 

Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.

Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine. 

Me: I appreciate you

Me: Is babygirl here?

Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.

Andy: Jin and I are weak

Andy: We let her play hooky

Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count. 

Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog. 

There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming. 

“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”

Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them. 

If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen. 

“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”

“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”

She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”

Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.

“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”

“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”

She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.

“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”

Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again. 

Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car. 

“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”

“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”

I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”

“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”

Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”

We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend. 

“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.

Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.

“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”

I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off. 

“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”

It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.

“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”

Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house. 

Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.

The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around. 

“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.

“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”

“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.

Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos. 

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”

He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin. 

“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.

Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine. 

The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.

"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.

I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.

"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.

"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.

The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.

"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.

I smiled, "I am."

He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.

"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."

I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."

"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."

I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.

I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.

The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.

Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.

Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks. 

Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.

Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.

I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.

Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”

I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.

“Like, permanently?”

I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.

“Yeah.”

My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.

“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”

The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.

“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”

Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.

“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle. 

“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”

I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one. 

“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.

“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”

I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.

“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”

“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.

“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”

Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”

He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display. 

I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”

Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.

“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets. 

“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”

I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.

“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”

“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”

“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”

“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”

“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.

“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”

Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is. 

“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”

Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either. 

 “What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.

“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”

“PM?” 

“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”

“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”

My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”

“You always look great,” He assured me.

I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”

We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.

Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time. 

“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”

He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”

“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.

“Night bug.”

There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.

It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.

“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house. 

“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”

He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”

I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.

“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”

Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.

“Coach?”

Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.

Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.

“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked. 

I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”

That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.

Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me. 

“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.

Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.

“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”

“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify. 

For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better. 

“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.

“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”

My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.

Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?

The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.

Jimin: No idea what that means

Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess

I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.

Me: We’re going for celebration burgers

Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.

Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”

“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.

“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.

Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria

Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito

“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.

Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention. 

“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”

Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”

Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…

Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.

“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”

“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”

She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.

“Are you wearing heels?”

“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”

She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely. 

“Silver.”

I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.

I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.

“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”

Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.

“What did you think of Max?”

I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy. 

He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.

“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”

It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.

 I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.

“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”

This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.

“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.

“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”

I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”

“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”

“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”

“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”

Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had. 

I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.

“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.

Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.

I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.

With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough. 

Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.

“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”

“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”

“Text you when I get home,” I replied. 

Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.

“Love you,” She said.

“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.

Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway. 

“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”

Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”

He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”

Of course he did.

“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”

The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”

Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”

We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.

“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”

“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”

Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.

“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”

My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.

“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.

“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”

She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin. 

“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”

Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.

“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”

Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.

Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick. 

“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”

The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”

Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”

Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”

“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”

She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”

Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”

Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped. 

“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”

I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”

“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”

Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon. 

“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.

“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”

That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.

Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.

“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”

The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.

“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.

Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better. 

“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”

Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”

It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either. 

“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him. 

I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”

He squinted his eyes, thinking.

“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”

I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”

Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.

“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”

He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“We’ve always done that,” I argued.

“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”

Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.

“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend. 

“Send me your address.”

“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”

He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address. 

“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”

That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”

Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly.

“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin. 

“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”

He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to. 

“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”

I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.

“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.

Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before. 

He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.

I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.

Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.

And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.

I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.

I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[sc4rrc]

Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason

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- 2012!Donnie x reader - Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason - Fluff - Warnings: None Request: Nope, just came up with this on my own whilst reading through some one shots of my personal favourite creators. You like Donnie, he likes you. But you're both as oblivious as ever, despite clearly showing each other that you care. And as a date is set between you and someone who is -clearly- NOT Donnie, he finds it hard to not feel jealous. ════════════════════

For quite some time, nearly since you met, both you and Donnie had held an affection for one another. Whether it was how he saved you and your friend, April, from the Kraang that first drew you to him, or the fact that he so easily got along with you from then on, it didn’t seem to matter. You became close from that point, and eventually you even took part in most of their missions—after you’d gotten more familiar with fighting through Splinter’s lessons.

A few problems did arise between the two of you though, like how oblivious you both seemed when it came to actually catching on that someone might be interested. Or the way doubt crept in because of your close friendship. He’d compliment you a lot, always ensuring your safety on missions, and you did the same for him. But somehow, you both missed the bigger picture. “It’s not something new; he worries about all of us during fights,” you’d tell yourself whenever April pointed it out.

And it was true; he always watched out for his brothers, too. How could he not? They were family. But there he was, watching you train, helping you improve when Splinter was busy.

Other times, you’d be the one to assist him. Sometimes you’d grab things from the top that he did not have easy access to, or simply keep him company in the lab to make sure he took breaks. Lunch, water—the basics. But one thing you both did constantly, no matter how oblivious each of you seemed in the moment, was stare. Even from across the room, one of you would be looking at the other. On movie nights, for example, you’d sit on the couch, Mikey on your right and Casey on your left, everyone focused on the screen—except Donnie, whose gaze would occasionally drift toward you.

He’d become well aware that he was absolutely, undeniably infatuated with you. Even he knew he sometimes went a bit too far with his attention, though his brothers never hesitated to tease him. Raph, mostly. But with his feelings also came doubt, for both of you. After so long, with neither of you daring to believe the other felt the same, you both wondered if it could ever work. You didn’t want to risk your precious friendship on a confession that might lead to rejection. So, silence it was.

“I don’t know, April. Just think about it. If I say something, and he doesn’t feel the same, then this might just ruin our friendship. And I don’t want that.”

Harsh words to admit, really. The thought wasn’t exactly pleasant. April had been trying for ages to nudge you both toward a confession, convinced it would lead to something good. Or maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in her, but she hoped nonetheless. And despite her efforts—along with the boys’ attempts to coax Donnie out of his safe shell—neither of you would budge. Sighing, she finally said, “That is fair, I suppose. But I still stand by what I said earlier. Forgetting doesn’t sound like the best alternative. I’ll help, but that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing with this plan.”

Her words made you smile in gratitude. Crushing on Donnie, though a genuine feeling, had become almost frustrating. He seemed so unaware of your feelings—close, yet so distant. It made you wonder if maybe he really didn’t feel the same. And yes, that stung a little. But it also made you realize that moving on might be necessary. For everyone’s sake, including your own. So, when a boy in your History class asked you out, you accepted. It felt like progress for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon, it became a test to see how quickly you could let go of Donnie, knowing that dwelling on him wasn’t helping you move forward. And after all, it was just a date—a way to focus on someone else. ════════════════════

When it came to being in that position—being told by the girl he couldn’t stop being so fond of that she had a date with some guy, a human guy no less—Donnie wanted to dig himself a hole in the lab and never come out. He’d imagined this day might come, and he felt like he was losing his chance—if he ever even had one. His heart sank as the words left your mouth, and it was hard not to show his disappointment. But for your sake, he put on a smile and congratulated you. He even wished you good luck. Then, once you left the lair, he retreated to his lab, shutting the door behind him, eyes focused on his work. Anything to avoid thinking about his growing jealousy, even for a moment. The others noticed the slump in his shoulders as he walked away but decided to let him be. They knew it might be a long evening in the lair, but they figured the situation might resolve itself—if it could.

--- Time Skip ---

Hours went by, some faster than others, and soon you found yourself back in your apartment, changed into a new set of clothes, ready to sleep the day away. Reflecting on what was supposed to be a date, you thought back to what he’d said: “Listen, I’m not really one for these serious things, ’kay? You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got my ways around relationships, if you want to keep me happy.” That was about all you’d heard before mentally checking out of the “date.” He seemed nice at first but turned out to be a self-centred idiot—not the good kind of idiot either. And with all his talking, you made little effort to understand what he really meant.

You couldn’t recall the whole conversation, but you knew there was no way you’d repeat the experience. The things he said—about you and about others—were all wrong for you. He kept going on about some “party with girls” he had to get to, and the moment he crossed a line, you’d made your exit, realizing just how little interest you had in seeing him again.

You’d only just drifted off when a soft, rhythmic tapping at the window stirred you back to consciousness. Groaning, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and shuffled toward the window, squinting through the curtains. It could only be one of the guys, you knew, but the last thing you expected was to find Donnie, hanging upside down on the fire escape patiently, his expression hovering somewhere between nervous and excited.

Fighting back a laugh, you pushed the window open. “Donnie?” you whispered, the surprise obvious in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

He offered a tentative smile, voice low. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you. Just, uh… thought I’d check in. Make sure you got home okay.”

You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late for a check-in, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He shrugged, his calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal a hint of nervousness. “Couldn’t help myself. April mentioned the date didn’t, uh… go quite how you planned?”

A sigh slipped from you as you pulled the blanket around yourself a little tighter, rolling your eyes. April, of course. “You could say that,” you chuckled. “He was… something, alright.” You caught his amused grin, the faint hint of relief there not lost on you. You shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips despite it all.

Donnie’s face softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve better than that.” His voice was quiet, sincere, but even he looked surprised by his own words, cheeks darkening just a bit under his mask. “I mean, someone who’d treat you better than that. A lot better, actually.”

A warmth spread through you, his words settling in, making you feel a little lighter after such a disappointing night. His gaze hadn’t wavered, and you felt yourself holding your breath, caught off guard by how much his simple words meant.

“Thanks, Donnie. For worrying about me,” you said, the words barely a whisper. Before either of you could overthink it, you leaned out the window and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Donnie froze completely, his eyes wide, his usual calm vanishing in a heartbeat as he stared at you, utterly speechless. It took him a second—maybe two—before he swallowed, blinking a few times as if to process that the kiss had actually happened. A deep blush crept over his face, nearly reaching the edges of his mask.

“Oh. I, yeah.. Anytime,” he stammered, his voice slightly higher than usual. His hand moved almost instinctively to where you’d kissed him, and for a second, he was all but suspended there, entirely lost in the moment.

You bit back a laugh, giving him a little wave before you gently closed the window and pulled the curtain back in place. A small thrill ran through you as you moved back toward bed, a smile lingering even as you settled back under the blankets.

Outside, Donnie remained still, one hand pressed to his cheek, replaying the moment over and over in his head. A grin broke out slowly across his face, unable to hold back the ridiculous happiness building up inside him. "Oh, man... She kissed me. She actually kissed me.” He couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as he clambered back up the fire escape, his heart still thudding as he slipped back into the shadows, feeling no more of that jealousy from earlier. Not even the knowing looks from his brothers as he made his way through the entrance of the lair brought him fully back, his mind still stuck in that moment.

════════════════════ A/N: Here's my first one-shot. I think it turned out pretty good, considering nearly half of what I made the other night in drafts did not save. But idk if I should make a part 2 for this? I could, if I feel like it. It also depends on what you guys want so I might pole it, but the main idea is that I did it. (Also I love Donnie so much, he's so bf material.) - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[olicitymckono]

TOGETHER

Best friends are always there for each other. Yes they will fight and not always agree on everything but if one of them is hurting, it’s the best friends job to help in an way they can. Charles Leclerc and Yn D’Marco were two such friends. They had met in Kindergarten when a young boy had pushed her off the swings. Charles had pushed the boy back and helped her up and since that day they had been inseparable. The Leclerc family had become her second family especially since her mom had disappeared when she was 2. Maria D’Marco had not been built for motherhood as she said and had decided she wanted to see the world with her hippie boyfriend Tommy. Her father Alistair was a wonderful man who loved life and especially his daughter. Having no siblings, she had quickly been adopted by Lorenzo and Arthur as their little sister. Yn had been there through all the trials and tribulations, the death of Jules and Hervé. His highs and lows and even his girlfriends. Yn was unfortunately the typical girl best friend having realised her feelings for him when he had started dating Giada. But thankfully she was not the type of girl to mope around and pine for him. It also helped that for the most part she got along great with his girlfriends. Except his latest girlfriend Alexandra. For some reason Alex had an attitude with the blonde and hated whenever Charles would spend time with his friend going so far as to worm her way into their plans and even manipulating him into cancelling them. One such occasion was about to occur. Yn’s 26th birthday was approaching and since it fell in the 3 week break between races the Leclerc boys and Yn had organised a week long trip/birthday celebration in Las Vegas. It was something Yn had been looking forward to for months. With her ever growing photography business and his races they hadn’t gotten to see each other in months and Facetiming wasn’t the same. She missed her friend terribly and so had he.

Two weeks before the trip Alex was laying on the bed watching Charles get ready for some event. She didn’t want to join him so her friends were coming over. She saw his phone ping indicating a message and she rolled her eyes seeing her name. Yn had not done anything to her other than being his friend and she was jealous of the girl because Alexandra believed he had feelings for the girl. When Charles headed into the bathroom, she grabbed his phone. “Hey Charlie. Good luck tonight. I know how much you hate these things. 😊 But Las Vegas is almost here.”

“Not if I can help it,” she thought. That night while Charles was gone she and her friends began planning to keep the two friends apart. By the time he had gotten back, she had talked or more so guilted him into a romantic getaway for the two of them to Bali. And the temptress had even made him forget about how he was going to lie to Yn.

 

“Hey Charlie,” Yn smiled as she answered the phone. “You started packing yet?”

“Hey Ynn,” he sighed. “About that.”

“Everything ok?”

“I won’t be able to make it this year.”

“What?”

“The team hasn’t done particularly well so far and they want to work over the break to improve if we stand a chance at the championship. I’m sorry Cherie. But I’ll make it up to you.”

“I understand. Sucks though.”

“I know. Believe me I would rather be spending time with you but I need to do this.” He lied to spare her feelings but he seemed to forget that he was famous and sooner or later she would find out the truth.

Three days into the trip Yn was sitting at the hotel pool, laughing at something stupid Arthur had done. Carla was sitting next to her on Instagram when she turned to Yn. “Hey, I thought Charles was working?”

Yn turned and shrugged, “That’s what he said. Why?”

“So why’s he in Bali?”

“Huh?” Carla passed her the phone. Alexandra had posted pictures of the couple enjoying the white blue beaches of Bali capturing them “Bali vaca with my ❤️.” Had Charles really lied to her? “Maybe I misunderstood.” But she knew she hadn’t. For the first time in their friendship he had lied to her.

The vacation and her birthday suddenly felt different. The others could see she was trying hard not to let Charles’ lie spoil it and so they tried to make it unforgettable.

Charles knew something was off when he face timed her for her birthday. “Happy Birthday Cherie.”

“Thanks Charlie,” she forced a smile. “How’s the training?

“Boring as hell. Wish I was there with you.” She simply nodded. “Maman can’t wait for you to get back and neither can I. I’m going to make it up to you.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to Cherie. We haven’t missed each others birthday since we were 3.”

“We’ve never lied to each other either,” she mumbled soft enough that he didn’t hear.

“Are you okay Yn?” he asked concerned.

“I’m fine. Think I’m just tired from all the sun. I’m going to go lie down for a while before dinner. Thank you for calling Charlie.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, “Ill call you later ok?”

“Sure, goodbye Cherie.”

Even though she hadn’t said anything Lorenzo had decided not to let his brother get a pass. While the others were around the table he decided to give his little brother a call and excused himself. “Hey man, how’s Vegas?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Lorenzo skipped the pleasantries. As much as he loved his brother he loved Yn too, she was a little sister to him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you lie? You’re not in Maranello.”

Charles scoffed, “Where else would I be?”

“Bali.”

Charles’ face paled. “What?”

“We saw the pictures. Alex posted.”

Charles closed his eyes and sighed feeling guilty and realised that was why she had been so off. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.”

“I’ll make it up to her.”

“You better. Since when do you lie?”

“Enzo, I just didn’t want a fight. I know Yn and Alex aren’t that close.”

“I wonder why,” Lorenzo replied sarcastically.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly how it sounds. Since when has a girl every made you lie not only to your best friend but your brothers too?”

“Lorenzo, I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I know.”

“You’re going to have to fix it.”

“I will.”

 

When the group returned from America, Charles was waiting for them and no Alex in sight. As frustrated and hurt as she was with him, Yn was happy to see Charles. The first person he reached for was her and he pulled her tightly into his arms. “Cherie, I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“You, me, my apartment tonight. We’re having a movie night.”

“I thought you’re leaving for Spa tomorrow?” she asked.

He shook his head, “I postponed my flight till Wednesday. That way we can spend time together. I missed you.”

“I missed you too Charlie.”

Unfortunately things were only going to get worse.

Arriving at Charles’ apartment that night Yn was surprised to see Alexandra there. He saw her deflate slightly trying her best to be polite as she greeted the brunette. He followed her into the kitchen as she grabbed a glass filling it with water. “She just showed up. I thought she was in Paris.”

“It’s ok Charles.”

“Are you sure? I know it was just supposed to be us.”

She placed a smile on her lips, “I’m sure.”

Throughout the evening Yn noticed how Alexandra would try to make it all about her. Every time Charles would try talking to Yn, she wasn’t even able to get to finish her answer before the other girl took his attention away. And it was beginning to piss Yn off.

Before the movie was even done, Yn had had enough. Alexandra had become increasingly touchy with her boyfriend and Yn happened to notice a moment when it was painfully obvious that the girl had placed her hand into his shorts. He had unknowing let out a soft moan and Yn saw how Alexandra had looked at her with a smirk. Yn was done. She silently grabbed her bag and got up.

“Where are you going?” Alexandra asked acting dumb. Charles had opened his eyes and adjusted himself looking at his friend in concern.

“I forgot I have an early start tomorrow. But you have fun.” She didn’t wait for a answer and headed for the door. She made it to the elevator when he reached her.

“Why are you leaving?”

She looked at him disappointment in her eyes. “You obviously have better things to do.”

“Why do you not like her?”

“This has nothing to do with Alexandra.”

“Really?” he asked sarcastically. “Then why leave.”

“Kinda awkward when you two are practically wanting to fuck each other right there.”

“I’ll tell her to cool it.”

She shook her head, “Don’t worry about it.” She hit the button waiting for the elevator to open.

“Why do you do this?”

“Do what Charles?”

“Make her feel so uncomfortable?”

“I told you this isn’t about her!”

“Right, so you’re not pissed because I choose to spend my break with MY girlfriend!”

“I’m pissed because you LIED! If you wanted to be with her then you should have said that!”

“You are so suffocating!”

Yn felt her heart break and he could see in her eyes he had hurt her and had gone too far. Hell he didn’t even mean what he said, but as he opened his mouth to apologise Alexandra called from his door about a phone call. The elevator doors opened and she climbed in pushing the ground floor button. She waited for the doors to close before letting the tears fall.

“Cherie I’m sorry!”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Please pick up.”

 

A few weeks had passed and Yn had not spoken to Charles or even replied to his messages. Their friends knew something was wrong even some of the fans were picking up on something. Charles was not himself and Yn who was a regular face in the paddock hadn’t been to any races since the break. She no longer commented or liked his posts. No more good luck messages before races, no more messages at all. He missed her. It was hard for her too. When he had a bad race she wanted to message him, but she didn’t. She missed her friend so much but she couldn’t forget what he had said. She had been there for him through everything; Jules, his father, when Ferrari let him down. Even when she had needed her friend, like when she had caught her ex boyfriend in bed with someone else, she pushed it aside because he had needed her. But she was suffocating him!

She put all her time and energy into her little photography business and it was after a photoshoot that she ran into David. Well actually he ran into her, literally.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He rushed to help her get up.

“It’s ok. I should have looked where I was going.”

“No it’s my fault. Is anything broken?”

She shook her head, “Doesn’t look like it.” She noticed to he had spilt coffee all over himself. “Seems like your shirt got the brunt.”

“Huh?” She pointed at his shirt. “Oh, I didn’t even realise.”

“Can I buy you another?” she really did feel bad.

“You don’t have to do that. But I won’t say no. I’m David.”

“Yn.”

David turned out to be a really nice guy. He was from South Africa and was a professional cricket player. Yn had never heard about the sport but could tell how passionate he was. They got along so well and really enjoyed each others company that they spent the rest of the day talking. As day entered night, David asked if she would like to have dinner with him and she found herself accepting happily.

Coming home one evening after having been on another date, Yn found Charles waiting at her apartment door. He looked so sad and lost. “Hi.”

“What do you want Charles?”

“Can I come in?”

“Fine.” She heard him sigh in relief as she unlocked her door and let them in.

“You look pretty Cherie.”

She pulled off her heels and headed for her room. She quickly changed out of her dress into some sweats and a hoodie. Walking back into the kitchen she found Charles making her some tea. She opened a cupboard and pulled out some Macaroons before going to sit on the balcony. Charles joined her a few minutes later.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine thanks. You?”

“Been better. I miss you.”

“What is it that you want Charles?”

“A chance to make it up to you. I know I screwed up and I’m so sorry. I never meant it.”

She nodded sadly. “Doesn’t change the fact that you said it.”

“I never meant to hurt you Belle. Never you.”

“I miss you too Charlie. But you hurt me, twice.”

He took her hand in his and slowly began to run his thumb across her skin. “I can’t take away what I said. But I just want to prove to you that I’m sorry.”

“When my mom left, I thought it was my fault. Like I was too needy. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be like that with the people I love. That I would make sure they were ok. If me being there for you is suffocating I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no your not suffocating. I think I was projecting. Alexandra just showed up that night and I was already frustrated because it was supposed to be just you and me. I was really looking forward to it. But I’m weak. She basically threatened to with hold sex if she couldn’t join.”

“So you caved?”

He nodded. “Please forgive me?”

“You have to earn it.” But she said that with a smile.

For several weeks things seemed like they were back to normal and friends and fans alike were happy. The only one who wasn’t was Alexandra. Unfortunately for her she was stuck in Paris for a while. David had to return to South Africa for a few games and he had asked Yn to come with him. As her job wasn’t office bound and she had no scheduled jobs she agreed. Charles wasn’t happy about it though. Ever since he had met David, he had felt different. Yn had dated before but other then Adrian; her ex; she had never been serious about a guy. He had liked Adrian but he wasn’t mad that she had broken up with him. But something was different this time. Seeing her happy and possibly falling in love with this guy didn’t sit right with Charles. He just didn’t know why. She was his best friend, that was all right? A few nights before they left for South Africa, David had suggested a double date with Charles and Alexandra. He knew that Yn wasn’t a fan of hers but he also knew how important Charles was to her and that they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. It was at dinner that Charles realised that he was in love with his best friend and that all the fights he had with Alexandra was because she knew it. He remembered one night they were in the middle of sex and he had accidentally called her Yn. At the time he thought it was because he had spent the day with his friend but Alexandra had lashed out at him convinced he was in love with her. He had denied it then but now he knew it was true. Those weeks when she hadn’t spoken to him, had been the most pain he had ever felt. And now the thought of her leaving even if just for a few weeks clawed at his heart. Worse was the feeling he got when he had to watch David touch her, kiss her and make her smile. He wanted to be the one to do that. Hearing her laugh at something he said drew Charles out of his thoughts. He made up his mind on what he was going to do, he just hoped he didn’t end up losing her for good.

She had just kissed David good night and run a hot bubble bath when there was a knock on her door. She frowned slightly wondering if he had forgotten something. She was a little shocked to see her friend standing there. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

She moved aside to let him in. “I was just about to take a bath.”

“I’m sorry, I need to talk to you about something.”

She could tell it must be something important, “Ok, let me just change quick. Can you put the kettle on?”

He nodded.

“Charles?” she called a few seconds later.

“Yeah?”

“Can you help me please?” she leaned her head out the door.

“Sure,” he headed into the room. “What’s wrong?”

“The damn zipper is stuck.”

He chuckled, “Turn around Belle.”

Turning around she moves her hair onto her shoulder allowing him to grab the zip. It was a bit stuck but with some effort he was able to get it to move. Problem was the more he moved the zip down the more his fingers trailed along her skin. It was having an effect on him and by the sound of her breathe intake he knew she was too. Without thinking he moved his hand across her back into the fabric stopping against her bare waist, while at the same time placing his lips against one of her shoulders after he moved the strap with his other hand.

“Charles?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured as he moved his lips across her throat.

“What are you doing?” She asked breathy.

“I want you.”

She turned around causing his hand to slip out. “What?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I love you.” He pressed his lips against hers but she didn’t respond except to pull away.

“I’m sorry?” she sat down on her bed where he joined her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Charlie but what just happened?”

He shook his head, “I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes widen, “You’re in.....what?”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, “I’m in love with you Belle.”

“Since when?”

“A while. Forever. I was just blind. But Alex knew. That’s why she’s been acting the way she has. She’s jealous.”

“Why now?”

“I wasn’t 100 percent sure until tonight.”

“Nothing happened tonight.”

“I watched you with him.”

“David?”

He nodded, “Its supposed to be me. I’m supposed to be the one who makes you happy.”

“Charlie, you’re my best friend. You do make me happy.”

“Not in everyway. Yn I want to spend my life with you not just as you’re best friend.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Do you know why none of my relationships last?” she shook her head. “Neither did I. Not till I realised it was because they were not you.”

“Charlie,”

“Yn the whole night I have been going over my thoughts, why I hate seeing you with someone else, why Alexandra is so jealous, why it was your name on my lips in my dreams and that night.”

“What night?” she asked furrowing her brow in confusion.

He sighed, “A couple nights before I lied about Maranello, Alex and I were......having sex.”

“Ok and?”

“I called her you.”

“You called Alex Yn?”

“Yes. I didn’t realise it in the moment but she suddenly got mad and we started arguing. I guess that’s why I agreed to go to Bali. I felt guilty.”

She stood up. “I’m supposed to be leaving in a few days. With David, my boyfriend.”

“Don’t go.” He stood up and took her hand pulling her close. “Belle please I know I don’t deserve it but give me a chance?” He drew her into a kiss and she knew she was in trouble. Separating their lips he placed his head gently against hers. “Tell me you feel nothing and I’ll walk away.” She couldn’t respond, she was so conflicted. When she didn’t answer him he lifted his head and kissed her cheek. “I love you Yn never forget that.”

He walked out her room and headed for the door but just as he reached for the handle she was behind him and grabbing his hand. “I love you too Charlie.” This time she was the one to pull him into a kiss and they both knew this was were they belonged, together.

 Author Note: Hi guys I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for all the love on my Max story, Verstappen's Heart. It means alot.

Please feel free to send any requests for your favourite drivers ❤️

[queenhunter102]

First date

Simon 'Ghost' Riley A first date with Simon would be slightly stressful, this man has not been on a date for a HOT minute, you know too busy doing missions or taking down threats, not to forget training and keeping morale with his teammates. So the fact that you said yes, the attractive next-door neighbour that he has fantasized about when both home and out on missions, to going out on a date him he was high strung and snappy like he would be late on picking you up, would fumble when he spoke, would stare daggers at the waiter and would hardly acknowledge on the date. It made you think that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but after dinner, he took you out to see a movie that is where you got to see the man under the mask, you saw the tension in his shoulders relaxed, his arms not so bulging under his shirt, he even placed his arm over the back of your seat, you relax a little into the chair resting your head onto his arm, as you two watched the movie. At the end of the date, he would walk you to your door like a true gentleman. “I-Uh-I understand if you don’t want to go out on another date with me” he says, as he rubs the back of his neck, you turn your head away so he doesn’t see you laugh, He pauses as he watches you feeling like he is letting his happiness slip through his fingers, he sighs as he turns to walk away. You gently grab his arm stopping him from leaving “Simon, wait” you say, he pauses as he turns to you, you laugh lightly as you reach up and kiss his cheek, “How about I plan the next date” you say, as you unlock your front door and walking inside.

Captain John Price Now John is an entirely different story, this man has been on several dates before, hell I see this man having a whole ‘Life-long’ partner, who dumped him because they couldn’t cope with being put below his team and his work. So this man is FAR more chill than Simon is he plans a nice little walk, a nice date at a restaurant and drinks at his place after, like he has it planned out, he had picked you up from your place, picking you up on time, opening the door like the gentleman he is. for the whole date, he is opening doors, holding out chairs, offering you his arm when he realises you can’t keep up with his pace, but as the date starts to wind down and he offers you drinks at your place he is shocked that you reject him. “You sure? I don’t mind taking you home later” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound creepy or one of those odd men, but when you shake your head and say “Sorry I have a thing about going to guy's places on the first date” He pouts a little before smiling and nodding his head, feeling a little disappointed, but understanding. “Let me drop you off home, I want to make sure you get home safe,” he says as he walks you to his car, before driving you home, as he walks from his car and to your front door, he leans against the frame of the door. “So after how many dates do you come over to a guy’s places,” he asks, as you half turn to him, “Four,” You say, as you lean against the door, he sticks out his lip as he nods his head “Sounds like a plan, I’ll get in contact soon for date number two,” he says as he walks off to his car.                                                   

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish

Now this man is prepared he has had months to plan this thing, you were the pretty cashier at his local shop, he was a little late picking you up for a drive-in movie, and he managed to get his friends to help him set up, he set up a little picnic at the back of his car, as he hands you a cup that is filled with shloer, as he dishes up a plate from a few take out places, from an Indian, Chinese and a chippy. He didn’t know quite what you liked so he stuck to the basics as he handed you the plate, as the movie came to an end he pulled out a tub of chocolate-covered fruit, popping it open as he offered you one. “I’m surprised you don’t drink,” You say, as you take a bite of the cold fruit, the temperature making your teeth hurt, he laughed as he took a bite of fruit “I don’t typically drink, although I can drink anyone under the table,” he said, as he took a sip of his shloer, by the time he brought you home, it was well after one in the morning when he walked you to your door. Alejandro Vargas

Now Alejandro is different the man has been on a few dates nothing spectacular, but he knows what people generally like and what they don’t, he wasn’t so surprised that you said yes. But he took you out on Valentine's Day unknown to him had marked him several points down on the dating list, as he held open the door and the date was disastrous he ordered for you, giving you a salad and ordering you wine, when you wanted something different. It had gotten so bad that you had walked to the bathroom and phoned your friend damn near crying because you hated this date, hoping they would bail you out of this horrific date, but alas they told you to stick it out for at least another half an hour before they bail you out.

You pushed your salad around your plate not being that interested in it and when he questioned you, you shrugged and said you must be coming down with something, he then took you to a bar to drink and you were banging your head off the table, wondering what made you say yes to that man, that boring man. You knew it was because he was handsome and it was your fault you were stranded at a bar with this boring ass man, when the date finally drew to a close and he dropped you off at home, walking you to your front door he stood beside you as you unlock the door. “So you and I go for another date,” he says sounding sexy, but you purse your lips as you turn to look at him, “I had a great time tonight, but I don’t think, we’re suited for each other” You say slowly, trying not to offend him, his brows crease “What?” “Date was shit, you were boring,” you say, just deciding to rip the bandage off, he blinks once, then twice before he leaned away “Ok, that’s a first, can I try again? I swear I am not a bad date,” he says, you chew on your bottom lip as you nod, “Fine”.                                                                                                                              Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Now our boy Kyle is highly has been watching John for a while, Christ we know John has taken all of his boys under his wing, but Kyle Specifically, Means that John has talked to Kyle about dates and how to look after his date. Kyle has notes, from all the boys except Simon who was a nervous wreck if Johnny was to be believed, but he figured that meant being eager, but not nervous eager, like this man as a whole mood board for the dates, and he plans how he was going to ask you. Like our man goes into over preparedness, he is ready for every scenario, even if you reject him, but he is over the moon when you say yes, even going so far as being all cool and calm, having a sly smile but as soon as he was outside, he fist-bumped the air, jumping a little, before smoothing his shirt and fixing his hair and hat, unaware that he had done that in front of window to your place of work were you and all your coworkers had gotten a full view of him celebrating. He decides on a day kinda thing where the two of you walk around the city visiting museums and art galleries since he hadn’t been in the city long and hasn’t been able to go out, but with you being a local he thought it was a perfect chance to let you lead. He smiled as he walked with you through the city, his eyes wide as you pointed out the Architecture, pointing out little places, showing him your favourite parks, and the quickest way to cross the city, not to mention the good food, he was smiling and having the best time when you sat down under a shady bench under a big tree, he sighed, turning to you. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving,” He says, as he leans his head back, you smile and nod your head “Yeah I could go for a bite,” you say, taking his hand and taking a shortcut through the park, finding a cute little caf��. The two of you spent the entire day together, as the night slowly took over the sky he was walking you home, he smiled as you watched you walk up the stairs, he leaned his hip against the wall just looking at you. “Soo…Do you want to go on another date?” he asks sounding a little shy, you turn to him “Yeah, a second date sounds good, how about I take you to see the nightlife next?”, he nods his head as you walk inside, he fist bumps the air happy he was able to impress you.

[joeshiestyslover]

you promised

pairing: joe burrow x actress!reader

summary: joe promised to come to your premiere, but sometimes, some promises aren’t always kept

warnings: language, hints to smut at the end, very shitty dialogue, angst with a happy ending

lowercase intended

after all the months that you spent filming and working around your busy schedule, you were finally done. your long awaited netflix tv show was coming out in two days. you couldn’t be more excited for both the release and the premiere. this is your big break, this show is going to put you on the map. after this show, more and more people are gonna want to know your name.

you picked out the perfect dress, shoes, and jewelry for the premiere. but you couldn’t forget your perfect date, joe burrow. you and joe met in college at lsu while you were studying psychology. you both immediately clicked and have been together ever since. joe is the perfect boyfriend, the whole package. he’s sweet and extremely charming. it also helps that he’s fine as fuck.

after joe was drafted to the bengals, you made the leap and decided to move with him to cincinnati. it turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made. the city is beautiful, easy to navigate and you get to be around joe almost all the time.

you’re in the bedroom packing for your trip to brooklyn, new york, where the premiere is scheduled to be held. you’re just about to head into the bathroom to collect your toiletries when you hear the garage door open. finally, joe was home and you finally have the chance to talk to him about what he is going to wear to the premiere.

“babe, i’m home!” you hear joe yell from downstairs. shortly after, you hear his heavy footsteps coming towards your shared bedroom. you then feel his arms snake around your waist and him pressing his lips to your cheek. “whatcha doing?” he asks. “i’m packing.” you respond. “for what?” ummmm. “for the the flight to new york tomorrow morning” you remind him. “my premiere’s in two days remember?” “shit y/n” he starts. oh hell no, you think. “joseph lee burrow, do not tell me you forgot about one of the most important nights of my life.” you slightly raise your voice as you turn around to face him. “i’m so sorry, but i promised the rookies i’d take them out to dinner.” you are beyond pissed now. if it slipped his mind, that’s one thing, but making plans on top of it and basically insinuating that his plans were more important than yours, that’s where you draw the line.

“you promised joe.” you can feel the tears of frustration start to pool in your eyes, but you don’t dare to let them fall. “you said you would be there and i expected you to keep your fucking promise.” “i really am sorry y/n, but i can’t skip this dinner; i promised those guys.” he says regretfully. “promised, my ass joseph. so you can keep your promises to your new teammates, but you can’t keep your promise to me? your girlfriend of three years? are you fucking kidding me?” you’re yelling now, no longer being able to hold back the tears.

“that’s not what i meant and you know it.” now joe was starting to get angry, as if he has the fucking right. “oh really?” you scoff. “then what did you mean? please enlighten me.” “i-” he starts to say, but you cut him off. “save it joe i don’t wanna talk about this anymore. i am going to that premiere because i promised everyone that i would, and unlike you joseph, i keep my promises.” at the last word, you poke at his chest, but you weren’t done yet. “you know i don’t see how it’s fair that i’m at every single event that’s important to you, and i show up to almost every game, and i have no problem cancelling plans with my friends, hell, even my fucking family, but you can’t push your stupid dinner back a couple of days for me? you know how important this is to me, but apparently it doesn’t mean shit to you.” “y/n-” “shut the fuck up joe. i’m going to this premiere, with or without you, but just so you know, if i show up alone, then it will be a very clear reflection of just how much you care about me and my accomplishments.” by the time you’re done with your rant, you’re panting, and you can feel the tears stalling at your chin. joe looks at you with sad eyes, but it’s clear that he has nothing to say.

“so that’s it? you’re just not gonna say anything?” you ask him, hoping he’ll get on his knees and beg to come with you to new york. but you’re met with silence. “okay” you say. “i’m gonna finish packing, then i’m gonna stay in the guest room tonight. if you change your mind, the flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow morning.” you take your toiletry bag into the bathroom and stuff your skincare products, makeup, and your hygiene products into it. you go back into the bedroom to find joe no longer standing there.

you can feel your tears resurfacing, but you refuse to cry for him. if he would rather go to dinner with his friends, then so be it. you were not going to let him ruin the best night of your life for you. after you finish packing, you grab your suitcase, and walk into your guest bedroom, but it’s already occupied by joe. he’s lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, acting like you didn’t just yell at him. wow, you think. he doesn’t even feel just a little bit guilty. you walk out of the room and go back into your bedroom. you don’t like how it feels in there. it’s cold and gloomy, much different than the usual joy and warmth it’s filled with. you set your alarm for 7:00 and go straight to bed, not wanting to think about joe and your argument any longer. you toss and turn on the bed for god knows how long, knowing that joe is probably sleeping just fine without you. sleep is different without him, and you don’t like it one bit. all you want is to run into that guest bedroom and crawl into bed next to him, but you will not give into him; not until he gets his head out of his ass. finally, after what feels like hours of just rolling around the bed, you fall asleep.

your alarm blaring wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. after a few minutes of just lying on your bed, you sit up and walk into your bathroom. you look in the mirror, with your reflection looking back at you. i look like a fucking mess, you think to yourself. you brush out your hair and put it up just to keep it out of your face. then after brushing your teeth, you walk out of the bathroom and sneak down the hall to the guest room. you quietly open the door, and see him still sleeping. you want to wait a while, just to see if he’ll wake up and go to the airport with you, but you can’t. you know that the thirty minutes you spend waiting will turn into an hour, then two hours, and you’ll end up missing your flight, and you won’t let that happen.

you shut the door and go into your room to grab your suitcase and backpack. you roll it into your living room, and sit on your couch while waiting for the uber you ordered. you’re on your phone scrolling through tiktok, when you hear a door open and footsteps coming closer to you. you look up and find joe staring at you. joe breaks the eye contact and walks into the kitchen. your worst fear confirmed; you were going to new york alone. you soon get the alert that your uber has just pulled up to your house, so you grab your stuff and walk out your front door without sparing joe a single glance.

the trip to new york went smoothly, and you were able to check into your hotel, but you forgot the reservation was made under joe’s name. oh great! another reminder that he isn’t going to show up! you do everything you can to not think about joe, but everything seems to remind you of him. you hate being without him. you have the urge to text him, but you can’t. he has to know that he fucked up and he won’t be forgiven that easily.

the day of the premiere you’re shitting bricks. you didn’t realize just how much you need joe until you didn’t have him by your side helping you calm down. it also doesn’t help that he has been absolutely radio silent. the tiny voice in the back of your head constantly telling you, you’re not important enough and he has better things to do than waste his time with you.

you try to keep your mind off of him. you try to converse with your hair and makeup artist whilst she gets you ready. it works for a while, but you can’t stop thinking about him. he should be here, spending this moment with you, laughing and smiling with you, but if he didn’t think that you were important enough then fuck him.

once it’s time to go, you hop into the limousine, and it takes you to the theater where the premiere is. when you get there, the limo comes to a stop, and you get out. as soon as you walk out, you can hear thousands of people screaming your name. you plaster on a fake smile and walk over to the screaming fans, signing autographs and taking pictures. you’re soon guided by your manager to different reporters wanting to interview you. the first few interviews going great; the interviewers mostly asking what filming was like and how well you get along with your costars. one of the interviewers however, asks you the question you have been dreading to answer. “so y/n y/ln, where is your boyfriend, joe burrow tonight?” you try to think of an answer without sounding snippy or pitiful. “well you know we’re very busy people” you start to say. “sometimes our schedules just don’t align the way we want them to, so we just have to accept it and move on.” okay, that went well.

you finish up interviews and start to pose for pictures, the flashing of the cameras becoming almost blinding. after a few minutes, your manager walks up to you. “joe’s here.” she says.

what.

you look at her confused until you look over her shoulder to find your boyfriend dressed in a black suit with subtle patterns walking towards you. you don’t know whether to smile at him or slap him. he comes up to you and hugs you tightly as he whispers in your ear, “i’m so sorry baby, you were right. i was so fucking selfish and you deserve the same amount of support that you give me.” you fight the tears and whisper back a “thank you.”

you two pose for a little while longer until it’s time to walk into the theater. you take your seats, and joe takes your hand into his. soon after you sit down, the first two episodes of the show start to play on the screen. about halfway into the second episode, you look over at joe to see him with slight tears in his eyes. he feels your gaze, and turns to you with a smile. you smile back at him and once again turn your attention to the big screen.

once the episodes ended, you and joe socialize with your costars a bit during the after party before deciding it was time to go home. as you both start to walk back to joe’s car, he stops and turns to you. “i know i already told you, but words cannot explain how sorry i am. i was selfish and an idiot, and i was wrong for not taking your feelings into account. i love you and it wasn’t fair to you at all.” joe tells you with tears threatening to escape his eyes. “joe, i love you more than anything, and i’m glad you realized you were wrong, but this cannot happen again. what you did was hurtful, and all i wanted was for you to want to experience this moment with me. you made me feel unimportant, and as though you didn’t care about my successes.” you tell him, somehow holding back your sob, but your tears are flowing freely. “i never wanted to make you feel that way y/n. i’m so fucking proud of you and i’m so happy for you. you mean everything to me; i promise you this won’t happen again, and i know that i’m not the best at keeping my promises, but i intend on keeping this one.”

“good.” you smile. you wrap your hand around the back of his neck and you pull his lips to meet yours. the kiss slowly becomes more and more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. after a while of making out in the parking lot, you both break away for air. “you wanna go back to the hotel and celebrate properly?” you ask him, panting. “fuck yeah baby.” he picks you up over his shoulder and all but sprints to the car, unable to wait to get you back to the hotel room.

a/n: i hope y’all liked it. i haven’t written anything in a hot minute so please go easy on me 😭😭

[yestrday]

Idk if it’s just because I’m TREMENDOUSLY down bad for the malewives, but whenever I read a segment about them getting jealous I kinda just want to be really gentle, reassuring, and over all sweet to them (picture just cupping their face and giving them cute little pecks while you calm them down <333)

The boys don’t like that some other girls perfume is on me and are wondering why it was on there in the first place? I completely understand their concerns. One of my friends had gone to me crying for advice on a fight she had with her girlfriend, and I just had to soothe her + give her some relationship advice and gush to her about my lovely husband afterwards!

They are worried I’m becoming more distant due to my work? The boys think that I’m not being affectionate enough? I can’t believe I’ve done such a horrible thing without noticing! I’ll call in a sick day at once and plan a cozy date just for two of us to relax and cuddle and I’ll talk to them about ways I could show them even more affection and ask them what they prefer!

My dearest husband thinks I’m working too long and that he thinks I’m forgetting about him for someone at work? I’m horrified I didn’t see how he felt sooner! I’ll immediately talk about slightly cutting back my long hours, and I’ll even get up early before work to leave him little sticky notes that confess my love for him! I’ll text him on my short breaks and I’ll call on my lunch break too!

I’m just such a massive simp I can’t help but want to be “gentle and caringly earnest spouse” who would 100% gush about them to all my friend and co-workers <33 (This is just a brain rot / rant! Def not a request lol)

ah <3<;3 they are your husband after all! your ever devoted, ever loving, ever faithful husband! it's common sense that you have to treat them with the same praise and fervor that they do to you!

venti's pouting about how you're working overtime? he's laying back dramatically on the couch, whining with practiced dramatic effect about how cruel you are for leaving your poor hubby with no one to share these cold nights. you watch him with crossed arms and an amused smile, knowing exactly what game he's playing at. yet you still come to him and hug him from behind, peppering his squishy cheeks with kisses and soft apologies. venti giggles at you, and grins widely when your touches go lower.

thoma doesn't look right these days, with how you keep drinking out with your clients. you always go home buzzed and reeking of other people, and although he tries to hide it, your dining utensils have been slightly bent, haven't they? when he comes home from a grocery trip, you surprise him with dinner, dressed in his frilly apron. the dullness in his eyes washes away, and with a pleasant gasp he rushes into your arms and start sniffling about how much he misses you.

the servants have been telling you that xingqiu's been in a snappy mood ever since you left for your business trip. when you open the door to his study, you can see the briefest surprise flit across his face before he adopts a mask of indifference. ah, so he's going to ignore you, huh? well, no matter. you sidle up to him and say your apologies, whispering about how you've missed him terribly so. that you couldn't eat properly knowing you left your dear husband alone. he's still refusing to acknowledge you, huffing behind his book, but you can see his eyes crinkle into a smile.

anyway! what's the point of marriage if you two won't devote yourselves to each other? nothing else matters, does it? why should work stop you from showering your sweet husband from the love that he so deserves?

[watchmegetobsessed]

MIDNIGHT CRUSH

A/N: another year full of fanfics behind is!! it's crazy how fast 2022 has passed by, thank you for being here all year, thank you for reading my works, for all the messages and kind words!! hope to see many of you next year on this hell site haha!

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SUMMARY: Harry has had a crush on Sarah's sister for a long time and this year, at the NYE party he can finally shoot his shot, because she's freshly single.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So, what should I bring for the party?” Harry asks as he, Sarah and Mitch enter the couple’s home following their Christmas lunch together that Harry invited them out for.

“Just yourself,” Sarah smiles.

“Booze,” Mitch says at the same time, making his friend laugh.

“Got it. And who is coming?”

The three of them walk into the kitchen as Sarah grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge to pour them all a drink. Harry climbs to a stool by the kitchen island and mumbles a thank you when she hands him his glass.

“Mostly the same people we always invite,” Mitch shrugs. “Oh, and Sarah’s sister.”

Harry almost chokes on the wine, the pair exchanging an amused look, because they expected him to react like this.

“Y-Your sister is coming? Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Sarah nods smiling. “You know, she was planning to stay home, but I can’t let her celebrate alone, not after the year she had.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Sarah smirks, knowing well Harry most likely has no idea what happened to you just a few months ago. “She broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Y/N is single?” Harry’s eyes are basically popping out of his head before he tries to control his face and rephrase his reaction. “I mean, what happened with them? I thought they were doing fine.”

“The dude was an ass,” Mitch speaks up, leaning against the counter. “We don’t have proof, but I’m pretty sure he cheated on her.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t working either, so she broke up with him in… what, like October? I don’t remember,” Sarah shrugs.

“Oh, wow. They’ve been together for a long time, right?”

“Three years,” Mitch nods.

“She’s been pretty bummed, so I want to get her out of her little cave,” Sarah smiles, taking a sip from her drink.

“So she’ll be at the party,” Harry hums.

“Yeah. You two got along well, didn’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, you could… say that.”

That is an understatement and all three of them knows. To be exact, Harry fell in love with you probably the moment he laid his eyes on you at Sarah’s birthday party last year, but you were happily dating Matthew who couldn’t come to the party because of a work trip. You and Harry hit it off right away and you were inseparable the whole time, he felt like as if it wasn’t the very first time he met you, like you were good friends since forever.

Finding out that you were in a long term relationship was like a slap across his face, but he tried his best to mask his disappointment. Every time the two of you saw each other he forced himself to keep a distance, but always failed and ended up falling for you even harder. He could feel his heart breaking every time you went home to your boyfriend and he knew he should forget about you, but it was easier said than done.

But now you’re single and he’ll be seeing you again and for the first time, he won’t have to be ashamed to be pining after you.

“Just make sure you don’t drool when she arrives,” Mitch teases him, to which Harry just rolls his eyes.

He was already excited about the party, but now it feels like a second Christmas, he counts down the days until the last one of the year finally arrives. He tries to busy himself during the day and not get ready at one pm for the party that starts at seven. He watches movies, cleans the kitchen, scribble down new lyrics, but nothing keeps him occupied long enough to stop him from thinking about seeing you again.

He even stalks you online, something he never does, but this time he just cannot stop himself. Though your Instagram account doesn’t give away much. Just a handful of pictures, from the past few years, only two of them were taken exclusively of you, one at a sandy beach and another one from two Christmases away, looking cozy under the tree with all the gifts around you. There are a few with Sarah and Mitch, some photos of hills, forests and lakes, Harry remembers you told him how much you like going on hikes and exploring new places.

The last post was six months ago, four hands holding drinks meeting in the air, one single wine glass emoji as the caption.

Harry wonders if you had more posts up with your ex, photos where you kiss, where he is hugging you from behind, photos that would definitely turn him into a jealous little gremlin in an instant.

It’s past three when he finally gives up and gets ready. He takes a steamy shower, even attempts to style his hair before spending an obscene amount of time in his closet, trying to find the best outfit for the occasion.

By four he is fully clothed and ready to leave the house, even though he still has hours. He feels like a total fool, roaming around the house, pretending like his pants doesn’t feel like they are on fire.

It’s past five when his phone rings, Sarah’s smiley face appearing on the screen.

“Hey, you’re driving over, right?” she asks when he answers the call.

“Yeah. Do you need me to pick something up on my way?”

“Yes, well, not something, but someone. Y/N’s car broke down, do you think you could…”

“YES!”

“…give her a ride?” she finished chuckling at his enthusiastic response.

“Sorry,” he huffs out a laugh. “I can totally pick her up.”

“Great, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll text you her address, you think you could be there at six thirty?”

“Sure, absolutely!”

“Alright, see you two soon then.”

He fights the urge to jump around the living room like a kid. A minute later his phone chimes and as he opens the message from Sarah, he stares down at the address with never ending excitement. There’s something oddly intimate in knowing where you live, up until moments ago the two of you only existed at parties and Sarah and Mitch’s wedding with lots of people around you, but now he’ll have a glimpse of the home that’s just yours.

He has a fleeting idea of getting you flowers on his way, but that would be just way too much, this isn’t a date, though he wishes it was. He’s just picking you up to drive you to the party you both will be attending.

Parking down in front of a cozy looking townhouse he gives himself a peptalk before getting out of the car and walking up to the front door. He hears the bell ring through the house as he waits for you, a pair of high-heeled feet approaching the door in a hurry and when it flies open, Harry forgets to breathe and blink.

Because there you are, in a stunning, elegant black dress, your hair pinned up, your makeup appears natural, but he notices how glowy your skin is and you gift him with a bright smile upon seeing him on your doormat.

“Hi!” you greet him.

“Hi,” he smiles, finally putting his lungs to work.

“Let me just grab my coat and then we can leave.”

He nods as you reach to the side, taking a simple black coat off the hanger and when he sees you struggle to put it on he’s quick to help it onto your shoulders.

“Thank you, you’re such a gentleman,” you chuckle softly, grabbing your purse from the side table before stepping out and locking the door. Harry can feel himself blush, even the tip of his ears are getting hot at your simple compliment.

“You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Thank you, you cleaned up nice too,” you smile as the two of you walk back to his car. “Thank you so much for the ride, I really should buy a new car already, but it’s my first car, I’m too sentimental to get rid of it,” you sigh, buckling yourself up as Harry starts the car.

“So it’s an old friend, huh?”

“You could say that.”

The ride to Sarah and Mitch’s place is filled with comfortable small talk, catching up about what happened since the last time you saw each other, but Harry makes sure to avoid asking you about your ex. He’s not sure how you stand with that situation and the last thing he wants to do is to upset you.

Every time you laugh at something he says it feels like a victory and he just wants to hear that sound every day. He wishes his friends lived farther away so he could spend more time with you alone, but eventually you arrive to your sister’s home and the bubble pops.

“Hi sis!” you hug Sarah lovingly when you walk in, the two hosts greeting you warmly.

“So glad you’re here,” she pats your back, exchanging a knowing look.

Harry is snatched away from your side just moments after his arrival and this one time he wishes he wasn’t such a good company among his friends. But he keeps an eye on your at all times, he sees you mingling, sipping on your drink and every time you laugh at something jealousy tightens his chest.

“Dude, you promised not to drool,” Mitch teases him when he catches Harry staring at you once again.

“Fuck off,” he huffs, taking a sip from his drink.

“Just go talk to her.”

“I’m trying not to be a weirdo,” he sighs, making his friend laugh. “And I don’t want to be pushy, I don’t know if she’s over her ex already.”

“Mm, don’t be a pussy,” Mitch teases him before walking away.

Harry loses track of you for just five minutes while he uses the bathroom and when he returns you’re nowhere to be found. At first he just keeps looking, hoping you’d show up somewhere, but you never come.

“Hey, have you seen your sister?” Harry asks when he finds Sarah in the kitchen, refilling the chips bowl.

“I think I last saw her going upstairs,” she shrugs.

He lurks through the guests and makes his way upstairs, not too discreetly looking for you in every room he passes by, until he finally finds you in one of the guest bedrooms. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed your heels has been kicked off and you’re staring out the window, lost in your thoughts.

“Hey, where did you go?” he softly asks, walking over and sitting next to you.

“Ah, I just… it became a little too crowded for me,” you shrug shyly. “Wanted to have a break from the chit-chatting.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks, feeling like he is bothering you with his presence.

“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant,” she chuckles, her hand brushing against his knee for a second, the tiny gesture etching into his memory forever instantly. “I just lost my energy for small talk, but it’s not like that with you. I’m trying to recharge, but I wish I brought some booze with me.”

“I’ll get us something,” he offers. “I mean, if you still don’t mind having me here with you.”

“Won’t you be missed down there?” you look up at him curiously as he stands from the bed.

“They’ll survive without me,” he shrugs smiling.

“Then I would love to have your company.”

God, those words are like honey dripping from your perfect lips. He quickly makes his way down, hunting for a bottle of alcohol the two of you can share. He finds a bottle of champagne, snatches two glasses and dodges every attempt to drag him into a conversation as he returns upstairs, excitement filling his chest to have some more alone time with you.

“Oh, great!” you beam when you see him holding up the bottle and handing you a glass he pours you a drink, the fills his glass as well before the two of you settle back on the bed. “Mm, this will numb me well,” you let out a tired sigh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Why? You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“I’m good at masking,” you huff out a bitter laugh. “It’s just so frustrating…”

“What is?”

“Am I so boring that all people want to talk about is my exboyfriend?” you ask, surprising Harry with bringing him up. He also can’t help a tiny frown.

“Not at all,” he shakes his head, taking a sip from his drink.

“Then why did I have to dodge questions about him like a million times the past two hours? Like… I’m a person outside of Matthew, hello!”

Harry’s unsure what to say. If you asked he would tell off every single person downstairs who made you feel like this.

You look at him with a tiny smile.

“Thanks for not bringing him up.”

“I…” he starts. I’ve had my selfish reasons, he wants to say, but swallows the words. “Just wanted you to have a good time,” he ends up saying.

The champagne bottle starts to empty out and the two of you are having a private party of your own, having a blast away from all the guests. Sprawled out on the bouncy mattress you talk and laugh and play silly little games as the clock is ticking towards midnight and the new year.

You’re definitely feeling dizzy, not drunk, but the champagne has loosened you up enough to be a giggling mess. Harry is sitting with his back against the headboard while you’re lounging across the bed, your legs tangled with his.

“Ah, I missed this,” you let out a pleased sigh.

“Missed what?”

“Having fun,” you huff out a laugh. “It’s been a bitter few months.”

“We can hang out more,” Harry suggests, his hands reaching out, gently massaging your calf. He’s been fighting the urge for a while, but he feels like you’re comfortable in your little bubble enough to allow this physical contact. You don’t move away, even let a tiny moan slip through your lips at the pressure of his touch and pride fills his chest.

“Be careful, I might end up at your doorstep every single day,” you joke.

“Feel free to do so,” he replies, fully meaning his words.

Your head rolls to the side to look at him, a soft smile stretched across your face as you blink at him lazily.

“Wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“Impossible.”

“What about when you’d want to be with a woman? Go on dates?”

“I don’t do that,” he shrugs.

“I don’t believe you,” you grin at him. “There’s no way you’re not dating supermodels and movie stars…”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he chuckles, his eyes fixated on his hands working on your calves.

“Come on! You gotta have a crush on some insanely gorgeous woman!” you tease him more, but

“It’s you,” he blurts it out, his honesty surprising the both of you. “I have a crush on you,” he then adds.

His eyes shyly move up to meet your gaze, but your face is too blank to read anything off of it as you blink back at him, lips slightly parted. A minute passes by and he starts to regret that he couldn’t hold his tongue. You then push yourself up into a sitting position, eyes still glued to his face.

“Really?” is all you say when you finally break the silence.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just blurted it out.”

“No, it’s… I just…” It’s hard to find the right words and Harry is patient with you, but a knock is heard on the door and he almost curses out whoever is on the other side.

“Hello? Are you guys in here?” Sarah’s head pops in before the rest of her body follows, taking in the sight of the two of you on the bed. “Hey, ten minutes until midnight. Are you guys joining us?”

“Yeah,” you nod, sounding breathless and Harry can feel himself deflating. The moment is gone, you know he is into you, but your reaction wasn’t quite what he was expecting.

He watches you climb off the bed and is sure you’ll just walk out with your sister, leaving him behind, but when you put your heels back on you turn to him with a warm smile.

“Come on, we can’t miss the countdown.”

He’s stunned at your friendly behavior, but he just nods and follows you, the three of you returning to the rest of the guests downstairs. The party is buzzing, everyone is excited to greet the new year, but Harry can only care about you. Both of you get a flute of champagne and standing in the corner of the room, you’re a bit awkwardly wait for the countdown to start.

Then the last ten seconds arrive and Harry’s mind is racing more than ever. Where do you stand? Did he ruin everything? You won’t even want to be friends with him? After all the pining, is this really how he had to admit his feelings to you?

He hates how quiet you are next to him, how he has no idea what you wanted to say before Sarah arrived and he would kill to read your mind.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!...”

He bites the inside of his cheeks, nervously switching his weight from one leg to the other, staring ahead of him.

“Six! Five! Four!”

He can faintly hear you take a deep breath and from the corner of his eyes he can see you turn towards him. Your gazes meet and his heart is brutally hammering in his chest when your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

There’s a heartbeat of hesitation in you before you splurge forward and press your lips against his, only to pull back almost immediately, afraid that you did something wrong. But Harry is quick to silence your worries when his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you back in for a lot longer and more passionate kiss that the previous one.

He grins against your lips when he hears someone cheer on the two of you, judging from the voice it’s Mitch, but Harry doesn’t bother to check, he’s way too busy kissing you over and over again. He never even plans to stop, but you shriek out a laugh when he accidentally spills some of his champagne on you while trying to wrap his arms around your waist, coordinating with the flute in his hand.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he gasps, placing the glass to the nearest surface instantly before he could pour more on you.

“It’s okay,” you chuckle, wiping the fabric with your hand on your hip.

“I got a little… carried away,” he breathes out with a smirk, but you just shake your head grinning up at him, your gaze lacing together with his once more and before you could even think about your actions, you push closer to him and kiss him. You simply can’t stop, you need to be touching and kissing him as if you could die if you took even just a step away from him.

For the rest of the evening the two of you turn into giddy teenagers. Not wanting to be rude you stay downstairs with the rest of the guest, mingling feels easies for Harry with you by his side. He keeps a hand on the small of your back at all times and every time your eyes meet, he can’t help but steal a quick kiss.

It’s past three in the morning when you leave your sister’s home and Harry drives you back home. The ride is silent, but it’s comfortable, the moments you shared tonight speak for you.

“Can I call you tomor—erm, later today?” Harry chuckles when he realizes it’s already the next day.

“Absolutely,” you smile and you both move towards each other at the same time, lips meeting over the console before you get out of his car. You wave at him from the front door, watching him drive away with the cheesiest, most lovesick smile on your face.

Though Harry is still buzzing from the events of the night when he goes to bed, it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep. It’s been a long and memorable day, he needs to recharge before jumping into the new exciting year.

He has just put on the coffee to brew when his phone starts buzzing on the kitchen counter. He rubs his eyes before snatching it and checking the screen, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” he answers hesitantly.

“It’s me.” He recognizes your voice in an instant, eyes popping wide open and he didn’t even need the caffeine.

“Hi!” he breathes out, trying his best not to sound too excited, though he fails, because he hears your chuckle on the other end of the line.

“I’m glad you’re up, Sarah said you might sleep in late when I asked for your number.”

“I just woke up, actually.”

“Good. You can let me in then.”

“What…” he gapes and then hears the doorbell ring.

He drops the phone to the counter without even ending the call as he sprints to the door in his slippers, almost tripping on his way before he flings the front door open just to find you on his doormat.

“Well, I told you I would just show up at your place every day,” you chuckle. “Do you want to spend the first day of the year together?” you ask, noticeably nervous about his reaction, but he melts at your presence and he takes your hand before pulling you in.

“Wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[idyllicwillowtree]

Vickie's Friend - Part 2

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve are both very protective of your friends.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: use of y/n, silly goose!Steve, fluff, trying not to out somebody

Author’s note: Sorry this took so long! I got some of the inspo from an episode of Friends

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Saturday, March 22, 1986

“I mean, it’s hilarious! I could never place what Tammy Thompson sounded like but Robin got it spot on,” Vickie enthused.

“Yeah, it’s a Muppet joke. The muppets are always funny,” you replied, focusing more on the stack of new books you were arranging on the shelf. Vickie twirled around the bookstore you both worked at, following you as you did most of the work.

“My point is that when I compared Tammy to Kermit the Frog she laughed. And not like a fake laugh either, like a real, genuine laugh. It was perfect.”

“But…?” you waved the book in your hand, gesturing for her to continue.

“But I’ve been trying really hard to stop that thing where my mouth moves faster than my brain so there was just that weird awkward silence you get when you want to keep talking with the person but you don't know what to say but I had like a million things I wanted to say but I suppressed the shit out of that so I wouldn’t keep talking and talking and talking and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” Vickie gasped slightly, forgetting to breathe during her run on sentence.

Sending your friend a tight lipped smile, you say, “yeah, you are.”

“I’m hopeless,” Vickie exhales and leans against the bookshelf you were organizing.

“Eh,” you turn to lean next to her, “we both are.”

“If only we could like, combine,” Vickie said, intertwining her own fingers together.

“Combine?”

“Just think about it. I know exactly what I want, and I’ve found the girl of my dreams, but I can't get the courage to ask her out. Meanwhile, you go on a million dates and you have no idea what you want. So if we just combined, all our problems would be solved.”

She was right, you had gone on what felt like a million first dates with no plans for a second one in sight. Unfortunately, Vickie is forgetting a crucial flaw in her hypothetical plan.

“Vickie?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you forget about Dan again?”

Your best friend’s face dropped as she blinked rapidly at you. “Right…Dan…”

“It’s alright, Vick. As long as you break up with him before you and Robin do anything, you’re good,” you say with a teasing smile.

“Robin and I aren’t going to do anything!” her fair cheeks flooded with pink.

“Okay sure, whatever you say.”

Vickie rolled her eyes in defense before gasping, “Ooh, I found our next book club book!” Her jewelry started clanking together as she jogged across the store. 

You sighed dramatically at her attempt to change the subject, “I still don’t understand why we call it a club if it’s just us-”

Vickie spun around to show off the novel she chose, “‘Sense and Sensibility’ by the one and only, Jane Austen.”

 “Ugh, you know I don’t do historical fiction,” you grimace.

“But it’s about doomed love!”

“That’s relatable,” you scoffed

“Precisely,” Vickie said with a smile, already grabbing you your own copy.

_______________________________________________

Friday, April 4th, 1986

Steve did end up asking you out after your volunteer shifts at the High School. You both were awkward and giddy about it but it was comforting to know that he was just as nervous as you were. You found him to be very charming and endearing and you were excited to get to know him better.

Your first date was very sweet and simple. There wasn’t as much to do because of all the businesses that had to close due to the earthquake, so he took you to a diner that had managed to stay afloat.

You were having a great time, the spark of electricity you felt when you flirted with him that first day flooded through your body the second he came to pick you up, and it continued as you sat and ate your food. Your topic of conversation quickly transitioned to Robin and Vickie.

“And then the guy goes, ‘what? There’s no ‘b’ in rose.’ and the other guy goes ‘there was in this one!’” Steve looked at you with anticipation in his eyes and a big grin on his face. You blinked at him, still waiting for the punchline. He sagged slightly, realizing you didn’t get his joke, “it’s funnier when Robin tells it.”

“I’m sure it is,” you teased. “Robin is very funny.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and sent you a lopsided smile that sent butterflies to your stomach.

“Speaking of Robin…her and Vickie have been talking a lot on the phone,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. You eyed him closely, assessing his reaction.

His eyes jumped around nervously as he took an extra long drink from his milkshake. You could already read him like a book, he was very obviously stalling.

Steve cleared his throat, “yeah, they seem to like each other a lot.”

You leaned forward, trying to invade his space a bit, “Steven Harrington… What do you know?” your voice was low and suggestive. It made Steve’s heart skip a beat, although he wasn’t sure if it was from his attraction to you or from nerves. He has spent so long keeping Robin’s secret, he didn’t want to accidentally out her and make her the ‘town’s pariah’, as she liked to say.

Little did he know, you made the same promise to Vickie.

When Steve kept his mouth closed, you sighed and said “okay, but if you found out on your own, that would be okay, and then we could talk about it, right?”

Steve had an idea as to what you were referring to, but he needed to tread lightly just in case. “Well, then it wouldn’t be a secret. So, yeah that would be okay,” he said carefully.

You eyed him for a moment, seeing if he’d break first. 

He squinted his eyes back at you, “do you know something?”

“Do you know something?” you said quickly.

“I might know something.”

“I might know something, too.”

“What’s the thing you know?”

“Oh no, Steve. I can’t tell you until you tell me what you know.”

He shrugged softly, “I can’t tell you what I know.”

“Well then, I can’t tell you what I know.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Fine.”

You both sat there in awkward silence as you contemplated what the other was saying. Or not saying in this case. Anxiously gnawing at the dead skin of your thumb as you looked out the diner window, you could feel Steve staring at you, watching you suspiciously.

_______________________________________________

Saturday, April 5th, 1986

You and Steve were so excited to see each other again that you planned your second date for the very next day. Unfortunately, you had to cancel.

You didn’t want to postpone, especially since you were still eagerly still waiting to kiss him, but you had to. Vickie and Robin were finally going to hang out together and you wanted to spy. Some would probably call it stalking, but you didn’t care. 

Being Vickie’s only friend that she trusted enough to share her secret with came with a lot of pros and cons. On the plus side you were honored that she trusted you, but on the other hand Vickie can talk a lot and it can get to be a bit draining. You earned the right to spy a little on their first date. 

Also, Robin could be a serial killer. You never know. Stranger things have happened in Hawkins.

Steve actually told you, when you called him to reschedule, that he was about to cancel as well. He had some excuse that you weren’t really paying attention to, you were just excited that he wanted to eventually see you again. 

You hung up the phone with a smile still on your face. Immediately, it started ringing again. “Hawkins’ Book Attic, how may I help you?”

“Hey Y/N, is Vickie there?”

Of course it was Robin. 

“Hi Robin! Yeah just a second,” you pulled the phone away from your face before shouting, “Vickie! Phone’s for you!”

“Thanks Y/N, I’ll take it from the break room.” Vickie shouted from the back.

You returned the phone to your ear, covering the mouthpiece, so you can hear when Vickie picks it up.

“Hello?” you heard Vickie say.

You were about to hang up when you heard Robin say, “hey baby!”

That’s new, you thought. Against your better judgment, you continued to listen.

“Hey hun, I was just thinking about you.”

Your eyes widened. You looked around, making sure no one was watching you before you realized there was no one else in the store. It’s been closed while you and your co-workers cleaned up the place. The building itself wasn’t destroyed like some of the other businesses in town were, but it definitely left a mess with all the knocked over shelves and books.

“Awh, that’s sweet. I just wanted to check to see if we’re still hanging out after your shift?”

Ah, yes. The date you were planning to spy on.

Vickie giggled sweetly, “of course, Robin! I’ll pick you up after work and we’ll head over to that wildflower field by the quarry.”

You hung up after that, that’s all the intel you needed for your mission.

_______________________________________________

Luckily for you, your shift at the bookstore ended at the same time as Vickie’s. You managed to get to the field before them since Vickie needed to go pick up Robin. You found some street parking in a neighborhood nearby to ensure that your best friend didn’t see your car. You smoothly parallel parked in front of a dark brown BMW to start your stake out. 

You focused on the road that was perpendicular to the street you were stationed on. Only when you saw Vickie’s blue hand-me-down Ford Cortina drive by did you grab your bag and exit the car, starting the short trek to the woods surrounding the open field of colorful wildflowers.

Spotting the two girls from a distance was easy with Vickie’s fire-red hair and Robin’s towering height. The tricky part was finding a suitable hiding spot. 

Glancing around the wooded area you noticed a tall tree nearby. Before you could assess the strength of the branches you heard the rustling of a giant bush at the perimeter of the field a few feet away from you, followed by whispered curses. Denim clad legs were sticking out of the green shrubbery as a man was trying to wedge himself through it. You’d know those white sneakers (and that fine ass) anywhere.

“Steve?” 

You heard a hollow “thunk” as Steve jumped in surprise, his head hitting one of the branches. He slowly emerged as he rubbed the back of his skull with a grimace. He was wearing giant women’s sunglasses and a long blonde wig that now sat lopsided on his head.

“O-oh, hey Y/N,” he said sheepishly.

You let out a surprised snort at his appearance, before realization bloomed in your chest. You smirked, knowingly.

“What are you doing here, Steve?”

Steve shuffled to the side, trying to block your view of Robin and Vickie setting up their picnic.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

“Okay…what are you wearing?” you said suspiciously, tugging a leaf out of the synthetic fibers of his wig before crossing your arms.

Steve immediately paled.  He snatched the jumbo lady glasses off his face, showing you his panicked brown eyes. What excuse could he come up with for wearing this in the middle of the woods instead of going on your second date?

“Uh…it’s just-...you see-”

“Is that Robin and Vickie?” you interrupted, craning your neck to look over Steve’s shoulder, pretending like you had just noticed them.

“What? Uh, n-no I don’t think so.”

He was such a bad liar.

“Yeah it is! Let’s go say hi-”

“NO!” Steve’s voice echoed across the field, making Vickie and Robin glance in their direction. Before they could see, you gripped Steve’s shoulders and pulled him down to crouch behind the shrub he was trying to hide in moments before.

“What are you-”

“Shut up, Harrington. Do you want to blow our cover?” you frantically whispered, peaking around the leaves carefully to see Robin handing Vickie a pink sparkly drink with a glimmering smile on her face.

Steve gasped dramatically. “I knew it! You’ve known this whole time?”

“Oh please, you knew nothing,” you said with a giggle.

“Okay fine, but I had my suspicions,” he grinned at you. Finally, he had someone to talk to about Robin’s love life. You two already had an immediate connection, but this solidified his attraction to you even more.

“Ooh! Wait, I came prepared too.” You swiveled, turning your back to him as you dug through your bag. He watched as you pulled something out that you placed on your face. Then you whipped out a baseball cap that you tucked your hair into before placing it on your head. You spun back around to face him again, “ta-da!”

He let out a surprised snort, similar to the one you gave when you saw him in his disguise. You had stuck a dark black mustache to your upper lip, wiggling your nose like a rabbit to show it off.

You both continued to laugh as quietly as you could at the absurdity of the situation you were in. Somehow, you both separately planned on canceling your second date, dressing up in a disguise, and spying on your friends. 

“We need higher ground, I think,” Steve whispered after his laughs had died down.

“Come on,” you gripped his hand, ignoring the tingling sensation it gave you, and dragged him to the tree you were planning on scaling earlier.

You helped hoist each other up, finding two parallel branches that were sturdy enough for you and Steve to sit across from each other on. It was the perfect spot to spy on Robin and Vickie with the opening in the tree leaves, while still staying hidden. Steve rested a foot on your branch as he got comfortable. You were close enough to him that his spare knee was in between yours. 

Your legs swung lazily underneath you as you admired him, happy to have someone to share this moment with. 

“Look, look, look,” Steve whispered excitingly, leaning towards you more as he pointed towards your friends.

Angling your body to get a look, you didn’t realize how close your faces had gotten, but Steve did. He nearly fell out of the tree when he got a whiff of your sweet perfume. He held his breath as he subtly studied your face, scrunched in concentration before lighting up with excitement.  Despite the fake mustache, you were the prettiest person he had ever seen.

“I can’t believe it. Robin is feeding her! And it's a strawberry? That’s like the sexiest food,” you snickered. Turning to see Steve’s reaction, you almost bumped noses with him. 

Both of you froze, no one was leaning in, but no one was pulling away either. 

After what felt like forever you whispered, “Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?” he replied, equally breathless. 

“Have you ever kissed a woman with a mustache before?”

He beamed at you, eyes sparking with humor. “Can’t say that I have,” he glanced at your lips, “have you ever kissed a guy wearing his mom’s old halloween wig?”

Before you could stop it, you snorted right in his face. Luckily, it made him smile even more.

He gently held your cheek as you placed your hand on his leg that was still propped up on the branch you were sitting on. Your heart was practically bruising your ribcage as it pumped in anticipation. Steve’s face heated up even more as you both started to lean in. 

Before your lips could touch, his foot shifted and you lost your balance, sending both of you tumbling out of the tree, breaking branches along the way.

Steve landed on his back in the plush grass below, it wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t land directly on top of him. The breath in his lungs got pushed out as he let out a loud “oof” that quickly dissolved into laughter. Once you realized he was okay, you began to full body laugh alongside him. 

Both your disguises got lost in the chaos, he could finally get a good look at you. You were still laying on top of him as his brown eyes stared happily up at you, ignoring the leaves and debris that were still raining from your fall.

It’s like deja-vu, time slows as you stare into each other's eyes, slowly leaning forward yet again.

“a-hem!” 

Both your heads whipped to the side to see Robin, now only a few feet away from you, glaring disapprovingly at Steve with her hands on her hips. Vickie had her arms crossed and her furrowing brows were directed towards you.

“Our cover has been blown!” you say to Steve.

“Retreat! Retreat! Abort mission,” Steve said, a grin still plastered on his face as you both hopped up and ran through the woods, hand-in-hand. Robin and Vickie watched you both go, listening as the sounds of maniacal laughter echoed throughout the woods, fading away the further you got.

Both of you made it back to your cars, still laughing through your heavy breathing. Steve didn’t waste time catching his breath before gripping the back of your head and planted his lips to yours.

You were still giddy with laughter as you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck in an attempt to get closer. He snaked his arms around your waist as he walked you backwards, pining you to his car. 

You pulled back for air, still nuzzling your nose against his. Both of you were still smiling like a couple of idiots as happiness and adrenaline flowed through your veins. 

You continued to pant in each other’s faces before you whispered, “hey Steve?”

Steve pecked your lips again, “yeah?”

“So… you know that Fast Times tape we returned a couple weeks ago?”

_______________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

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[chelseachilly]

THIS LOVE - chapter four | you can hear it in the silence

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.2k

summary: you try to keep your distance from ben after italy, but after a terrible day, there's no one else you'd rather be with. i wonder why that is...

A/N: sorry it took longer than usual to update guys, it's been a very busy week for me! this one's a bit short as well but the next will be longer. i'm so happy the prem is back and we're getting so much good ben content though, the chelsea media team is keeping us well fed (and inspired one line of this chapter lol). title is from you are in love by taylor swift 🙈

previous chapter | view all chapters

Your plan when you got back to London seemed almost foolproof at the time.

You picked up a bunch of shifts at work, more than you would ever normally take on in one week. If you’re constantly working, then that gives you 1) an excuse not to attend any more events with Ben and 2) a good distraction from the developing feelings you’re experiencing for him.

The facts are simple.

He is your best friend in the world. He most certainly doesn’t return whatever weird feelings you’re having. Nothing is going to happen.

You’re sure it’s just a weird side-effect of this fake dating you’ve been doing, but that’s just playing pretend. 

Seeing him return to his usual ways - that perhaps he never left - of sleeping with beautiful models, firmly planted you back in the real world. 

And there’s nothing that can help you snap out of your fantasy life than a double shift in an East London emergency department. 

By the end of the week, you’re burnt out, exhausted, and you’re coming off what might be the worst shift you’ve ever had. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong, and it takes all your energy just to make it home on the tube and get yourself up the stairs to your flat afterward.

You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, sleep, eat, or something else entirely when you finally make it to your couch and collapse into it. 

Some time passes - you’re not sure if it’s minutes or hours - without you moving a muscle, your face buried in a pillow as you try to forget about your nightmare day. You’re snapped out of it when there’s a knock on your door. 

You’re not expecting anyone, but you reluctantly force yourself off the couch and trudge your way over to open it. 

And there stands Ben, who you haven’t seen or really spoken to except a few texts in a week and a half. Perfect.

“Ben, what are you doing here?” 

You’re aware it’s not the most polite greeting, but you don’t really have much more than that in you. 

“Are you alright?” Ben asks as soon as he has a moment to take you in, his eyes scanning your face. “You didn’t answer my call yesterday or my texts this morning, I was worried.”

Although you missed the texts because your phone was off at work and haven’t had the energy to check your messages since, you did dodge his call. 

“I’m fine, I just had a long day at work and I-“ You pause as it dawns on you what day it is, as well as the fact that Ben is dressed a bit more smartly than usual, in black trousers and a nice leather jacket. “Oh, shit. The Nike thing. I completely forgot.”

You had agreed weeks ago to attend a big flashy party for Nike as Ben’s date tonight, but as you focused all your energy on work this week it completely slipped your mind. 

“I’m sorry, just give me a few minutes to get changed and I’ll-“

“Hey, hey,” Ben says softly, stepping into your flat and closing the door behind him. “Forget about the party, is something wrong?”

You shake your head. “I just had a rough day at work.”

Ben nods, gesturing for you to go on, and something about the sincere worry in his eyes makes it impossible for you to remain closed off from him.

“We were really understaffed, and it was just one thing after another and then I lost a patient and I just-“ 

You cut yourself off as you feel that you’re about to cry, the sheer weight of your awful day and week catching up with you, but Ben can see it in the way your lip is trembling slightly and you’re avoiding eye contact with him.

“It’s alright, come here,” he says, stepping closer and pulling you into his arms before you can insist that you don’t need to be comforted. You definitely do, and there’s no better comfort on earth than Ben’s hugs. 

He holds you close against him, letting you hide your face in his chest, and you can’t resist letting out a few sobs now that he’s opened the emotional floodgates. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” Ben says so softly that it almost makes you cry harder. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, and never breaking contact, Ben shuffles you both backward until the back of your legs hits the couch and eases you both into a seated position. He pulls you even closer so your legs are draped over his lap and your face rests in the crook of his neck, his hands slowly rubbing your back as your sobs taper off into quiet whimpers.

You can feel everything bad and stressful about today slowly leave your body with every soothing murmur and stroke of Ben’s warm hand against your back. 

He’s like an instant cure for everything wrong with the world, and it occurs to you that a big part of your terrible mood is probably the result of not seeing him for longer than usual. 

Now that you’re back in his presence, in the strong arms that have held you when you were eight and you scraped your knee falling off a bike and when you were sixteen and a boy broke your heart for the first time, you never want to leave. 

You’re no longer crying when you finally find the strength to pull away from him and look him in the eye. 

Ben releases you but keeps his hands firmly on your arms as he examines your face with worried eyes and a creased brow. 

“Are you alright?” he asks barely above a whisper. 

You nod, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Sorry, I guess this week was just a bit overwhelming.”

“You’ve been working a lot lately, yeah?”

“Yeah, well, have to pay the bills,” you shrug, as if that’s the only reason you’ve been drowning yourself in shifts on purpose. 

You do regret the comment slightly as Ben’s mouth opens and you know what he’s going to say before he even says it. 

“Y/N, if you ever need money, you know-“

“Ben,” you interrupt. “I don’t need money, I’m fine. It was just a stressful week, but I’ve got a few days off now.”

You’ve had this dispute before, with Ben freaking out whenever you seem overworked and insisting on covering some of your expenses. You never take him up on it, obviously. You do mostly love your job and helping people, and Ben knows that. He just worries about you. 

“Alright, fine,” Ben accepts. “Now why don’t we order some food and pick something to watch?”

You blink at him in confusion. “What? What about the Nike thing?”

Ben shrugs. “I’ll skip it. No big deal.”

“Ben-“

“Y/N, you had a shit day, you’re not going to some dumb party, and I’m not leaving you alone.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s his job to take care of you when you’re sad. Like he’s more than just your friend.

You can��t help but smile at his sincere expression, and how he’s gently rubbing your calf that’s still draped over his lap, as if you touch each other like this in private all the time. 

“I thought you said it would be a fun party?” you raise an eyebrow. “Or were you just trying to trick me into it?”

Ben laughs. “Well, it might be alright. A couple of the boys are gonna be there. But not as fun as watching a film with you.”

There it is again - that damn fluttering in your chest that is equal parts exciting and terrifying. 

Suddenly, doing anything with Ben sounds pretty good. Even a dumb party. 

“You know what, let’s go,” you say, wiping any remaining tears from your cheeks. “There’s no point in this whole fake dating thing if we don’t commit, right?”

“Are you sure?” Ben asks, frowning a bit. “We really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure. Let me go get changed.”

You get ready fairly quickly, putting on your go-to little black dress and comfiest heels, because you did just work a 12-hour day. You make your hair look presentable and apply a bit of makeup.

It’s nothing special, but the look on Ben’s face when you walk out of your bedroom says otherwise. 

The stress of your day continues to fade away to nothing as you and Ben make your way over to the party. Ben drives as they have a match Sunday so he won’t be drinking anything, and he loudly sings along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio in a clear attempt to cheer you up. It’s definitely working.

The party is a cool, lively affair at the Nike HQ. There are loads of athletes there, some that you recognize from television and some that you know through Ben. 

As you navigate the party, chatting with some Nike execs and some of Ben’s past and present teammates, Ben maintains some kind of physical touch with you. His fingers intertwined with yours as you walk in; his arm around your waist as you talk to his mates; his hand rubbing gentle circles on your lower back as you order a drink. 

You don’t know if it’s the fact that this is an event hosted by one of his biggest sponsors and he wants to play up the “man in love” thing or if he’s still trying to comfort you, but you can’t help hoping it’s the latter. 

After a while, Ben is approached by someone from Nike asking if he can do a short interview for social media. 

“Your girlfriend is welcome to join too,” the woman says nicely, flashing you a smile.

“You don’t have to,” Ben whispers in your ear, but you just shrug. 

Normally you would shy away from any press, but maybe a part of you doesn’t mind being called his girlfriend tonight.

“I’ll do it,” you say with a small smile at the interviewer. 

Ben keeps his arm protectively around your waist as the interview begins, glancing at you from time to time to make sure you’re alright.

They ask him a few questions about football before diving into the personal stuff, which you know is juicer for social media. 

“So, Ben, we see you’ve brought your lovely girlfriend Y/N here tonight,” the interviewer says. “How does she keep you grounded during the hectic football season?”

You tense a bit as you wonder what Ben is going to say, or if he’s going to be able to come up with anything on the spot, but he barely takes a second to respond.

“She’s such a calming presence in my life, really,” Ben says, squeezing your waist slightly. “She’s a nurse, so her job is infinitely harder than mine, and she still supports me emotionally whenever I hit a low point with my career. She’s…just the best person I know.”

Your heart is beating so wildly that you’re worried Ben is going to be able to tell, but you don’t have much time to stop being flustered before she’s directing a question at you.

“Y/N, I’ve heard that you two have known each other for quite some time before your relationship began,” she says. “What’s your favourite thing about Ben?”

There are a million things that come to mind right away, most of which feel too personal to share. 

You love how he takes care of the people in his life without expecting anything in return. You love how he cries every time you watch Marley and Me together, even though he’s seen it a thousand times.  You love close he is with his family and how he calls his mum every Sunday night just to chat. 

You love…

“I love how positive he is,” you say after a moment when you realize it’s taking you too long to answer. “He’s overcome a lot of adversity in his career, but he always has a smile on his face and makes everyone around him feel better by being in his presence.”

While you try to keep your answer somewhat football-related, since this is a work function, it’s also completely true.

And when Ben looks at you with that same bright smile, you think he knows that.

“Well, it seems love is in the air at Nike HQ tonight,” the interviewer swoons. “I hope you both have a nice evening, and we wish you all the best this season, Ben.”

As she leaves you standing there alone with Ben, trying to process the weight of your feelings, he turns to smile at you and tightens his grip on your waist.

When you meet his gaze and your stomach churns, you know two things for certain.

The first is that you’re in love with your best friend. It’s absolutely terrifying, due in part to the fact that you think you may have been in love with him without realizing it for a long time, but there’s no disputing it anymore.

The second is that you’re going to have to end this fake relationship before someone gets hurt. 

You just hope it’s not too late.

a/n: let me know what you thought, predictions, etc!! love chatting with all of you and your comments/asks make my day! <3 tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans​ @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe​ @batmansb1tch​ @ncentic​ @myheartgoesvroom @chillymountsjess @babygirlbenji @delicateearthquakellama @joyfullyswimmingface @xxenia14 @chaotic-taco-collector-blog (let me know if you would like to be added or if i missed you!)

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 1: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,584

Rating: T/M: There’s some language. That’s about it. 

Summary: As the holidays approach, it’s time to start seriously thinking about how you’ll spend them - and who you’ll spend them with. 

After breaking the ice with your coworker Din, the future becomes a little clearer ... and you begin to see some of the possibilities.

Author’s notes: 

It’s here! This is the first part of my 2022 Hallmark Christmas celebration. You voted and you chose this story as the winner - so I hope you all enjoy it. 

I’m planning on releasing this in real time for each part to coincide with the dates of the events that take place in the story... but don’t hold me to that because as we all know, the holidays can and do - usually get a little hectic. 

We’re playing a little fast and loose with some canon Mando elements - and I’m picturing Din as a little younger than he is in the show; early-mid 30′s. Reader will have no specified characteristics or age, aside from the fact that she is over 21 (legally allowed to drink in the US), celebrates Christmas, and she does/will have hair that is of a length that can be covered (you’ll see). 

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! I tried to keep this brief, and yet again... was unable to. You should all know the drill by now. 

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog) 

Thank you to everyone that’s showed interest in this so far. 

Translations at the end!

Masterlist

The more you put it off, the clearer it became that you were going to have to swallow your anxiety and just do it. 

And it shouldn’t have been difficult - not really. 

He was a nice guy; the conversations that you’d had at work were always positive ones, even if they were short. You’d never seen him get upset, even when someone made an unreasonable demand of him. He’d even gone out of his way to help around the office, taking on tasks before anyone could ask him to do so, or spending extra time to make sure the older people working there knew how to use everything properly to do their jobs. 

He is a nice guy, and if you didn’t ask, you knew that someone else would. 

And it wasn’t just the people you worked with that you had to worry about getting ahead of - it was everyone single in your age group, too. 

So on the Monday before Thanksgiving, you found yourself texting your best friend and asking her to wish you luck before taking off down the hallway and toward his office, fingers nervously trailing along the wall in your wake. 

Everyone seemed to be busy as you passed, and you were thankful that no one stopped you or poked their heads out of their office doors and attempted to speak to you. One delay and I’m going to lose my nerve. I know it. By the time you reached his partially closed door, your nerves were much calmer, one hand rising so that you could rap your knuckles against the frame with no hesitation. 

Or, only a little hesitation, if you were being honest. 

“C’mon in.” He spoke before you’d finished knocking, and you did exactly that, pushing the door open and then sticking your head inside of the room, a smile unavoidable at the sight of him.

“Hey, Din.” Leaving the door open behind you, you stepped through the small space and dropped into the chair across from him at the desk, crossing your legs at the knee. “How’s it going?” 

“Busy today, actually.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair and then gesturing to his computer. “I’ve closed a few work orders, and had to go and help Sandra log back into her computer. She forgot her password again, and couldn’t do anything.” Bet she didn’t really forget it.

As you listened to him speak, you let yourself stare at the man, trying to decide what the best course of action was. Just ask. That’s what you’re here to do. “Didn’t you help her last week, too?” Wrinkling your nose, you rolled your eyes. “I know it’s not a good idea because of safety and all that, but you’d think these people would use simpler passwords, right? Things they can remember?”

“If they did that, I’d be out of a job.” Leaning back in his chair, Din smiled at you, a dimple appearing on one cheek, visible through his sparse beard. “It’s fine. It’s what I’m here for, and it makes the day go by faster.” 

“If you say so.” Both of you went silent, and after about ten seconds, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I didn’t come here for computer help, Din. I actually… I have a favor to ask you.” 

“Yeah?” Din sat up straight, leaning closer and then pushing the sleeves of his shirt up toward his elbows before resting his forearms on the desk, the keyboard between them. “What’s up?” His casual response put you even more at ease, and as you opened your mouth to clue him in, you realized that you weren’t anxious anymore - whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He’d either agree or he’d say no, but you’d never know the outcome unless you took the leap. 

“So, you weren’t here last Christmas, but I’m sure you’ve seen the fliers for the events that happen over the next month.” Din nodded, his gaze still focused on you. “Christmas is a pretty big deal here, and -”

“With a town name like Mistletoe, I’m not surprised.” He raised a brow. “But go on. I’m sorry I interrupted.” 

“Well, if you’ve seen the fliers, then you know that the events are all part of a larger contest, right?” He nodded again, the warmth in his eyes there but subdued, the man waiting to see exactly what you had to say. “I sign up every year, always have, and I did this year, too.” He nodded again, his smile still present but somehow smaller, the man staying quiet. “It’s… long story short, I signed up with James as soon as the site went live, and …” 

“And now you’re not together anymore.” Din leaned even closer, saying your name. “I’m sorry about that.” You were surprised by the sincerity in his voice; you hadn’t even known that the man was aware that you’d broken up with your long term boyfriend. But apparently, Din knew more than he let on. Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean that he doesn’t see. “But that doesn’t … I can’t do anything about that, and if you wanted to remove your name from the list, I’m sure all you’d have to do is tell whoever’s in charge. I’m good with computers, that doesn’t mean I can hack into -”

“No, Din!” The laugh that spiled from your lips was one of the most genuine that you’d produced since your breakup a few weeks earlier, your accompanying eye roll only slightly exaggerated. “I’m not sorry about it. It was a long time coming. We wanted different things. He was ready to leave here and uproot his life and I just… wasn’t.” Not for him, anyway. “It’s better like this, but.” You held up a finger. “I don’t want to take myself off of the list, and I don’t want you to take me off, either. I … I was actually wondering…” 

The nerves were creeping back in, especially with the way that Din was still watching you, the expression on his face much more interested than it had been only minutes earlier. Just ask. All he can say is no.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to pair up, Din. With me.” Wetting your lips, you paused and gave him a few seconds to let the words sink in. “It’s actually a lot of fun every year, and if you’re involved with it, it’s a great way to really experience a Mistletoe Christmas.” 

“Aren’t there like five events? Doesn’t that take up a lot of time?” Cocking his head to the side, the man blinked slowly, a slight frown deepening the lines on his forehead. “We haven’t really spent much time together, so I’m not sure that I’d be a good partner. I don’t know you or this town well, so …” 

“It’s one event a week leading up to the 23rd.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sliding it across the desk at him. “Starts with trivia, and  then there’s a baking thing and a snowman competition.” He reached for the paper, his fingertips briefly making contact with yours as he picked it up, unfolding it. “But the biggest thing is the scavenger hunt that’s the morning of the 23rd. That’s my favorite part, even though it’s the most difficult.” 

You watched as his eyes scanned the sheet, his mouth lifting into a small smile at your words. “One a week?”

“One a week. A couple hours at a time.” Leaning back, you reached up to scratch at your chin, wetting your lips. “There’s other stuff to do on the days that there aren’t events, but it’s not … they aren’t mandatory. And no, we haven’t really spent much time together, but I think it could be fun, and we could get to know each other a little better.” You paused, thinking. “I never really see you out anywhere, Din. And you’ve met a couple of us for drinks after work once or twice, but …” You shrugged. “I know you don’t have family here, so I thought it would be a good way to…” 

But as you spoke, you realized that you’d never even considered the possibility that Din would leave for the holidays - using his vacation time to travel back to wherever it was that he was from originally. Shit. I didn’t … that could be a problem. “You alright?” He set the paper down, his hand lifting to run his fingers through his hair again. “You got quiet.” 

“It just occurred to me that I have no idea if you’re planning on being here for Christmas, and if you aren’t, then my plan isn’t going to work.”

“I’m staying here.” His tone hardened slightly for the first time, but it passed quickly, the man shaking his head back and forth. “I’ll be in Mistletoe for Christmas. Is there anyone else you can ask, though? I wouldn’t want to ruin your chances of winning.”

“There are a couple people I could ask. But if you say no, I’m not going to.” The look of confusion on his face made you laugh, and so you uncrossed your legs and then leaned all the way forward, pressing your palms on the top of his desk. “I’m pretty competitive, Din. And none of my friends really are. I take this seriously, and I think you would, too. I thought we’d make a good team.” 

“Yes.” He was grinning again, excitement back in his eyes. “I will.” You will? You’ll take it seriously, or you’ll be my partner? “When is …” He looked down, consulting the list. “When is trivia?”

“Saturday.” You grinned back, rising to your feet. “And then the baking thing is the following weekend.” He took a deep breath, exhaling as he brought his gaze up to meet yours again. “Let me give you my number and that way we can coordinate for the -”

“I have a better idea.” He stood, too, pulling his phone out of his pocket and thumbing it unlocked. “Give me your number, and I’ll give you my address. You can stop over after work sometime in the next couple days and we can strategize.” What? The look on your face must have alarmed him because Din’s lips parted, the man’s fingers tightening around his phone. “Or we can just talk at lunch or on break, that’s just as easy.

“I’m surprised that you’re inviting me to your house.” Pointing at his phone, you took a breath. “I figured you’d want to meet at a bar or restaurant or something.” 

“I leave my dog alone all day while I’m here, so I like spending time at home at night when I can.” He grinned, the expression somewhat embarrassed. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel bad that he’s by himself for so long.” He handed you his phone and you typed in the number before replying, sending yourself a message that simply said “Din” in the text field, and then gave it back to him. 

“No, I get it. And yeah, that’s fine. I’m free tonight and then tomorrow, so let me know what works best for you, alright?” Din nodded again, setting the phone down on his desk. “I really appreciate this, Din.”

“Don’t mention it.” He opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by a loud beep from his computer, the man’s eyes immediately going to the screen. “I should look into that. That’s the noise it makes when there’s an emergency.” 

Telling him goodbye, you spun and headed out of his office, pulling the door partway shut behind you. That could have gone worse. The walk back to your desk felt shorter than the one to his office had, and by the time you’d settled back down, picking up your phone to save his contact information, you were smiling outright. Much worse. 

The rest of the day was uneventful, and you worked methodically to clear out your inbox and get things done leading up to the long holiday weekend, the conversation with Din fading to the back of your mind as time passed. 

But when your phone vibrated later that afternoon and you picked it up, everything came back - including your wide smile - at the words on the screen. 

Here’s my address. How’s 6:30 tonight sound? I can order pizza. 

You only hesitated for a few seconds before typing back a reply, trying not to let yourself get overexcited. 

That works for me. I’ll see you then. 

— 

“Stace, there’s nothing else to it. We’re going to be teammates for a couple weeks.” You were pacing in your living room, phone held to your ear. “Yes, he agreed right away, but it’s probably just because he felt bad for me. He knew that James and I broke up, so it was probably just pity.” 

“Nah. He doesn’t seem the type to do pity.” The woman’s laugh was loud in your ear, but her tone was serious. “And even if it’s just because he wants to experience a Mistletoe Christmas, that’s still a good thing, right? It’s going to be fun.”

“I hope so.” You sighed, checking the time. “I’m going over to his place tonight so that we can talk about the events, and -”

“You’re going over there?” She screeched the words, her surprise evident. “Oh, that’s really good. Just the two of you means that …” She kept talking and you sat down on the back of the couch, bringing your free hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“Stacy. Yes, I’m going over there. He said he would have asked me to meet him somewhere else, but he doesn’t like leaving his dog alone all day and night. So it won’t be just us, the dog’s going to be there too.” She called you an idiot but you ignored it, continuing. “And even though it was the best thing for both of us, I did just break up with a long term boyfriend a couple weeks ago. I’m not looking for anything right now.

“Even with someone that looks like Din?” She’d seen him in person when she’d met you for lunch a few times, the man lifting his hand in a quick wave as the two of you passed him on your way out the door. Even with someone like Din. “You have to admit, he’s… nice to look at.”

“He is. But that doesn’t matter. We’re going to do some Christmas themed activities together, and that’s it. Maybe we’ll become friends, but I’m not counting on it.” 

“We’ll see.” You stood again and moved into your kitchen, head tilted to the side to hold your phone in place as you pulled your jacket on. “Just give it a chance. You never know - you might be perfect for each other.”

“Or,” you countered while grabbing your purse and keys. “Or we might be really incompatible, this is going to be a mess, and five weeks of us spending time together will end really badly.” She laughed again, telling you were wrong. “Maybe. But I’ve already asked him, so now all I can do is see what happens.”

You hung up the phone after telling her goodbye and that you’d let her know how things went, scrubbing one hand over your lower face. Is she right? Am I right? Only a few minutes later, Din’s address was typed into your phone and you were on your way to a house not even ten minutes from yours, music playing softly on your car radio as you drove. 

There were a few houses that already had their Christmas lights on and decorations up, but you knew that the number of them would only increase the following week, starting with the tree lighting ceremony on the day after Thanksgiving. You wondered if Din would go to that and decided to ask him while you were at his house that night. Might as well. 

You felt no apprehension as you got closer to his place, and even when you parked in the driveway and turned the car off, that was still true. 

But as you headed up the steps to the porch - he’d turned the light on for you - you felt a small twinge of nerves. And when you pressed the button for the doorbell and were answered with a series of barks from the opposite side, you sucked in a breath, heart rate increasing. I could leave. I could just go.

You saw the dog before you saw Din, its face poking around the edge of the curtains in the front window, and were so focused on it that you didn’t notice the door opening inward, Din standing in a rectangle of light that spilled out from the hallway and onto the porch. “Hey, sorry about him. He likes to bark, but he’s all talk, I promise.” The man paused and your attention shifted from the animal to the man, who took a step back and gestured with one hand. “Come in.” 

You followed him inside and shut the door behind you, and there was another quiet yip as the dog ran from the other room and into the hallway, Din bending slightly at the waist to grab for his collar. “Oh, it’s fine, he’s…” Unzipping your coat, you crouched down and then looked up, nodding. “You can let him go.” 

Din did, speaking two words - Cuyir jate - and taking a cautious step closer to you as the dog closed the final distance, head held high and his nose working overtime as he sniffed at you. Look at how cute this damn dog is. “His name’s Grogu. Had him since I got here. I actually… found him.” You reached out, letting Grogu sniff your hand, and when he’d made the decision that you weren’t going to harm him and started to lick at your wrist, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Or maybe he found me. They tell me he’s a mix of a couple things, but that he’s mostly Shiba Inu and some sort of Shepherd.” 

“He’s definitely cute.” Biting your lip as you glanced up, you nodded. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave him longer than you need to.” Scratching the dog behind the ears for a few seconds with one hand, you began to stroke over his fur with the other, Grogu plopping down into a seated position and whining quietly. “I love his ears.” 

“Everyone does.” Din cleared his throat. “Figured we could order food and then you could tell me more about this contest while we wait and eat. I like it kinda cold in here, so I built a fire in the living room, but …” Standing, you gave the dog one more pat on the head and then moved closer to the man, wiping your hand on your jeans. “If you wanted to stick to the kitchen, we can do that too.”

“Sitting by a fire sounds great, Din.” He led you into the other room and you followed, glancing around to get a look at the inside of his house. It was clean and organized, though it was smaller than yours, and as you walked, you noticed that there were very few personal touches scattered throughout. Maybe he’s a minimalist. 

Grogu pushed past you as you stepped down into the recessed living room, the dog immediately jumping up onto an armchair next to the fireplace and curling up. He settled his nose into his bushy tail, bright eyes watching intently as you lowered yourself onto the couch across from him. You kept your eyes on Din as you did so, the man stepping toward the fireplace and bending over to add another log before pulling the grate shut. 

It was impossible to ignore the way the material of his shirt pulled over his shoulders - the waffle-knit texture of the dark Henley he wore tight over his back and arms - and so you didn’t. You let yourself look, leaning back against the soft cushions, and barely managed to avert your eyes when he turned to face you, pointing at the open laptop on the table. “I have the menu open for the pizza place I like. Pick what you want and add it to the order.” 

As he settled down on the couch next to you - leaving plenty of space between your bodies, you leaned closer to the computer, fingers moving over the trackpad. I know this place. It’s one of my favorites.

It didn’t take you long to add your meal to the order, and when you gestured for him to finish, you reached for your purse, pulling your phone out. “What do I owe you? I can send it through Venmo, or if you want cash, I can give it to you at work tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” He clicked the “place order” button and then turned to look at you, lower lip pushed out in a small frown. “I invited you over here, so I’ll pay.” Thanking him quickly, Din ducked his head, turning his attention back to the screen. “Says it’ll be about 30 minutes. That’s plenty of time for you to fill me in, right?”

It was, but rather than just telling him, you decided to show the man what he’d invited you over to talk about. “There’s actually a website, if you want to look through it. It’s got pictures and videos from previous years, and it’s how they keep track of teams and points, too.” He pushed the device closer to you again, and you typed in the address, opening up the page. “I’ll actually need you to add in your information, too, just in case we win anything. They need to have a record of who the prizes go to, so -”

“Wait, there’s prizes?” He was tapping lightly on the trackpad, scrolling through the main page. “This isn’t just friendly competition?” 

“Well, yes and no.” Bending one arm, you rested your elbow on your knee and settled your chin in your hand as you eyed the website. “It’s pretty friendly all the way through. People are competitive, but they’re not ruthless, y’know? It helps to get us all in the Christmas spirit, but they like to reward the people that win, too.” 

“What kind of prizes?” He clicked a video and kept his eyes on it as it played, the volume loud enough that you could hear it, but not too loud to keep you from talking. “Cookies and Christmas sweaters? Gift certificates? What are the stakes here?” 

“God, no. We all get enough cookies and candy canes and all that bullshit from everywhere else. The Christmas sweaters … I can’t tell you no, because that might be part of it, but it’s more than that.” Pointing with one finger, you cleared your throat. “It sort of depends on who wins, too. There are some generic participation prizes, but for the teams that come in first, second and third, they personalize it a little.” 

“Yeah?” A second video was playing, Din watching as people competed in a 3-legged race. “Have you ever won?”

“I’ve won individual events before. But I’ve only won a bigger prize once. It was the first year James and I were together, and we came in third overall. We got an overnight stay at a bed and breakfast about an hour away as our prize.” You swallowed hard at the memory, looking down at your lap. “I think that was still during the honeymoon phase of our relationship, you know? He was trying to impress me. After that year it always seemed like he was just going through the motions.” 

Din was quiet for long moments and when you finally looked up, you sucked in a breath at the sight of a photo of you and James on the screen, both of you in winter hats and scarves. I forgot that was on there. 

He quickly clicked to a different page and while it loaded, Din shifted on the couch next to you, obviously a little uncomfortable. “So it’s not just a couples thing? I know you said there were other people you could ask, but I figured it was just so you didn’t have to back out.”

“It’s not. I entered with my best friend a couple times. My college roommate was my partner once when she came back here for the winter break. As long as it’s a team of two and both people fall into the same age bracket, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Yeah, it looks like there’s a separate contest for kids?”

“There is.” You leaned over, clicking on a different tab. “But that one’s just mostly fun. Races and making decorations, volunteering for the older kids. You have to be over 18 to sign up for the one we’re in, but there’s still plenty of stuff to do even if it doesn’t earn you points toward the competition. “You’ll see. It sounds a lot more complicated than it really is. All you have to do is show up for the main events and play, and you’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t promise you that we’ll win.” He rubbed a large palm over one knee, sighing as he said your name. “Where I’m from, we didn’t have a lot of these traditions. My holidays were a lot of … structure. I’ve really only gotten to experience American Christmas a few times, and I’m still getting the hang of it.” The hang of it? It’s just … celebrations. 

“That’s alright, Din.” Clasping your hands together in your lap, you shrugged your shoulders. “As long as you’re having fun, that’s what matters.” 

“But you just said that you and James didn’t win because he wasn’t trying to.” He rubbed at his knee again, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to think …”

“There’s a difference between not trying and giving it a legitimate effort and losing, Din. As long as you aren’t just showing up and sitting there on your phone instead of decorating cookies, or complaining about having to trudge through the snow and getting your pants wet while we’re building snowmen, it’s fine.” 

“I don’t mind the cold.” He let out a long sigh, the concern fading from his expression. “And Grogu and I really like the snow. He didn’t get to see much of it last winter, because we got here toward the end, but we took a trip over the summer, and he really liked it then.” 

“Ah, so that’s where you went when you were gone for a week. Europe. There’s snow over there in some places in the summer, right?” You grinned at him, tilting your head. “You left so fast that some of us wondered if you were even coming back, and the little old ladies in the cafeteria were distraught at the thought they wouldn’t ever see you again.” 

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting over to Grogu and then back to you. “Europe. It was a last minute thing, so I only had time to clear it with the boss.” His reaction was a little strange, but you figured that it was just the result of the man accidentally revealing too much to you after such a short time, and so you ignored it. He’ll tell me what he wants to tell me when he wants to tell me. “And I’m sure the cafeteria ladies were only distraught because I wasn’t around to help ‘em log into their email and update their order forms.” Doubtful. You snorted at that and were rewarded with another of Din’s bright smiles, the discomfort from a few minutes earlier all but gone. “The food should be here soon. Let me put Grogu outside so that he’s not trying to climb into your lap while you eat, alright?” 

Nodding at the suggestion, you settled back as Din stood and whistled, calling out the dog’s name. Grogu’s head popped up in interest, and when the man headed for the back door, fingers closing sound the handle, he bolted toward his owner, tongue hanging out. “He’s adorable, Din.” You spoke as the door shut behind the dog, Din flipping the light switch on and keeping his eyes on the glass for a few seconds. “You found him?”

“Yeah. It was about two weeks after I got here, I was driving down the highway and stopped at a rest area.” He motioned for you to follow him up and into the kitchen, opening cupboards and then pulling out plates and napkins. “He was in a box next to one of the dumpsters, and I heard him whining when I walked by.” Din pulled his phone out again and scrolled for a few seconds, tapping once on the screen before he turned it toward you. “There was no way I was getting back in my car without him.” 

 You gasped at the picture he was showing you; Grogu but tiny, the longer fur near his ears matted and wet, his body tucked into a tight circle on a piece of filthy cardboard. “Of course you couldn’t.” Covering your mouth, you blinked back tears at the sight. “He was so little.” 

“And all alone. I think there were others in the box with him at one point, but by the time I got there, he was by himself. Wrapped him in a blanket and put him in the car with me.” Din swiped to the left and the next picture you saw was of the puppy on the front passenger seat, wrapped in a tan, fur-lined blanket with only his head poking out. “Took him to a vet as soon as they opened the next morning, and they scanned him for a chip. Nothing came up. I said I’d keep him until someone claimed him or I could find him a home, and now…” Din trailed off, shrugging. “He’s not going anywhere.” 

“They always know when they’re rescued.” Movement out of the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head toward the window, the sight of Grogu running across the snow-covered grass making you smile. “I bet he’s a terror sometimes, though.” 

“Oh, definitely.” Din’s laugh was loud and genuine, and when he pushed away from the counter, tucking his phone back into his pocket, you followed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “He’s a little shit but I love him anyway.” Before he could sit down across from you, the sound of the doorbell filled the house, Grogu’s response barks audible through the glass. “One second.” 

He grinned as he walked away and you followed his motion with your eyes, gaze locked on the way his arms swayed as he walked, fingers curled into loose fists by his sides. Din was nice to look at - you’d thought so from the minute he’d been hired. The man’s shy nature during his introduction to the company had made him something of a mystery, many of the employees - especially the women - going out of their way to attempt to get to know him. But I don’t know if any of them actually have.

He answered  the door, greeting the delivery driver, and as he made conversation during the handoff, you kept watching him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. I shouldn’t stare, especially since we’re going to be hanging out so much. But you couldn’t help it, keeping your eyes on him even when he’d turned to face you again, boxes in his hands and using one foot to push the door shut behind him. “Need help?” 

He assured you that he didn’t, and a few minutes later, the two of you were happily eating dinner, both boxes open on the table between you. “So tell me more about this competition. I know we looked at the site earlier, but …” He swallowed a bite of pizza, setting the slice down and wiping his fingers on a napkin. “How do they score the events? Is it easy to win?”

“Everything’s weighted differently.” Swallowing a mouthful of your own, you lifted your cup to your lips, taking a long drink of Coke. “For example, the teams that win trivia will win with that number of points, but they only carry over a specific amount to the second event.” He nodded, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “There are judges for the snowman contest, and winners are ranked, and it’s the same thing; a certain number of points.” 

“Do they count the number of cookies you decorate?” He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Because I can tell you right now, I’m not going to be fast at that.” 

“They do. But it’s not just the number with frosting, it’s the number that are complete. We don’t have to bake them, just decorate them. Every year, someone drops a full plate, or comes up with some lame method that they think is going to get them an advantage, but it never works.” 

“What about eating them?” He raised a brow, swiping at his lower lip with one thumb and then sucking it clean, a breath catching in your throat at the sight. That’s definitely… something to see.  “What happens if I eat the ones we frost?” 

“I’ll be mad.”  You wadded up your napkin and tossed it at him. “A couple is one thing, but there’s plenty of time to eat cookies after, Din. I promise, there’s hundreds of them that get made that night. You’ll have too many to choose from.” 

“Fine.” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Scavenger hunt? That seems like it’ll be the most competitive.” 

“It always is. And it’s the best place to make up points, too.” Finishing your pizza, you pushed your plate away. “There’s the typical clues, and we have to figure them out and then go to each place and take pictures to prove that we solved everything. But there’s also a list of extra point opportunities.” 

“Extra points?” He finished too, sitting straight up and then leaning back, his arms behind his head as he stretched. “What does that mean?” It took you a second to answer - the flex of his upper arms through the material of his shirt distracting you big time.

“There… there’s a time limit. If you get all five or six of the main clues, you earn a certain number of points, but if you take pictures with the other stuff on the list, you earn extra points.” His eyes widened. “The trick is that some of the stuff on the list is worth more extra points, and it’s all completely random. The people that are in charge are the only one that know until the end of the competition. They upload the list with the point values after everyone’s submitted.” 

“So you really have to strategize.” He stood, beginning to clear the table. “Decide if you want to try for the extra points and put the actual clues aside, or -”

“Or play the game and pick a few of the extras and hope for the best.” As you moved through the kitchen with him, you were struck with how fluid it seemed - Din putting the dishes into the sink and rinsing them while you threw away the trash and combined the pizza into one box before sticking it in the fridge. 

“Exactly.” Pausing with one hand on the countertop, you eyed him. “That’s why it’s last. Gives people a chance to decide how they’re going to play it.” 

“Sounds like a lot of fun.” He had one hand on his hip, fingers spread out, the tips of two of them dipping into the front pocket of his jeans. “I’m glad you asked me to be your partner.”

“Are you?” He nodded and you felt heat rising in your cheeks, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You then turned away quickly so that he couldn’t see the change in your expression. Shit. “I’m going to let Grogu in. He’s gotta be cold.” Din told you that that was fine but didn’t say anything else, and you took the opportunity to walk back downstairs, heading straight for the door. How do I respond to that? 

You pulled the door open and Grogu dashed in, crowding up against your legs as you shut and locked the glass and then stepped back, laughing. Dropping to your knees again, you reached for him, the dog excitedly jumping closer and nudging at your chest and arms with his nose - which was much colder than it had been earlier. 

Leaning forward, you used both hands to pet him, running your nails along his back and sides, his curly tail wagging back and forth at your touch. “He likes you.” 

Din followed you downstairs, his arms crossed over his chest. Letting his words sink in, you smiled at the dog, scratching the space just behind his ears. “Yeah? Is he not usually this friendly?” Din sat down on the couch again and you heard a low whistle followed by another single word - K’olar. Grogu immediately went still at the sound and then headed for the man, bypassing you without another look. He jumped onto the couch and then settled down with his snout on Din’s thigh, the man’s hand immediately moving to his shoulders. Ok, that’s impressive. “Din?”

“It usually takes him a little while to warm up, but I guess not with you.” He looked down at the dog and then back at you. “I don’t have people over much, so this is new for him.” 

It seemed like an invitation and so you took it, sitting down on the couch again - Grogu between the two of you that time. “So you keep to yourself at work and after. You don’t have many people over. I’ve never heard any of the women in the office talking about going out with you for dinner or to a movie or for a drink, even though they all talk about asking. So why’d you agree to do this with me, Din?” 

You weren’t trying to pry, but you still wanted to know, hoping that at the very least the man would tell you something that would help explain his decision. I shouldn’t question it, because I’m happy it’s happening. “I wanted to.” He said your name and turned his head, waiting until you were looking at him to say anything else. “You’re friendly with everyone. You make my job easy because you never really need anything from me. And…” He scratched Grogu between the ears again, taking a deep breath. “And you’ve seemed sad for the last couple weeks, so I wanted to see if I could cheer you up.” 

“Din, I -” It wasn’t an admission of anything - not really -  but it made you happy all the same, and you didn’t quite know how to respond. “Thank you.” You ran your fingers through Grogu’s fur, careful not to get in the path of Din’s hand. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.” He was playing with the dog’s ears, the brown and black fur sticking out from between his fingers before he flattened them against the sides of his head. “Go on.” 

“Was I the only person that asked you to partner up for the competition?”

“No.” He laughed and your head snapped in his direction. I’m not? “A couple of the girls from the sales team asked.” He met your eyes. “And so did Omera, the one from accounting?” 

“And you said no?” Din nodded, his expression solemn. “Then why -” 

“Because, I like I said…” He reached over, laying his hand on your arm and squeezing. “I want to cheer you up.” He cleared his throat. “And to be honest… you’re really good at your job, and you look like you know your way around these events, so clearly we have the best chance to win together.” 

That made you laugh, too, your attention shifting to the warmth of his palm on your arm, the heat present even though the sleeve of your shirt. “I definitely do.” Lowering your head, you focused on his hand, the man squeezing once more before he pulled it back and resumed stroking over Grogu’s head. “Well thank you, Din. I appreciate it, and I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“You won’t.” The room went quiet then, and even though there was plenty that you wanted to say, you chose not to, instead flexing your fingers and then leaning back in and reaching for the laptop. 

“I’m going to log on now so that you can put in your information. If you enter in your email, they’ll send you instructions and updates about the events.” Once logged in, you navigated to the correct page and sat back. “All yours, Din.” 

He typed quickly, entering in his name and address, along with his phone number and email. “Says I need a picture? I don’t have one on here, but -” 

“It doesn’t have to be a professional picture. We can take one with your phone, or upload one using the laptop’s camera. It really doesn’t matter. They just want to be sure that no one’s trying to sub in someone for an event.” 

He didn’t speak, but you watched as Din pressed a few keys and opened the laptop’s camera, ducking down so that his face was visible on the screen. He ran his fingers through his hair again but instead of taming the locks, he ruffled them even more, the man muttering something under his breath that made Grogu raise his head. Did he just call him lamb?

He snapped a picture moments later, and then with a few more taps, he spun the laptop to face you. “How’s that?” There was a picture of him and Grogu next to yours, and if you hadn’t been able to catch yourself, you would have said something embarrassing. Like telling him that that’s the best laptop selfie I’ve ever seen. “Figured even if people didn’t know who I was, they might recognize him.”

“It’s a good picture.” With a final pat, you pulled your hand away from Grogu and linked your fingers together. “Hopefully they don’t think that he’s my partner.” 

“You wouldn’t have to worry about decorating cookies then because he’d eat every single one of them.” Din’s hands went back to Grogu’s face, the man cradling it between his palms. “Isn’t that right, you little womp rat?” 

You couldn’t help smiling at the sight, but when your eyes moved up and you saw the clock over Din’s shoulder, you winced. “It’s getting late, Din. And we’ve gotta work tomorrow, so I should probably go. I don’t want to keep you up.” You didn’t want to leave but figured it was polite to do so, and when you stood, Din did, too. “You don’t have to -”

“I’ll walk you out. I have to lock the door anyway.” He held one hand out and spoke to Grogu again, his head angled down. “Gev, Grogu.” The dog relaxed almost immediately, putting his head back down on his paws and looking up at you, brown eyes wide and somewhat sad. “Oh, don’t look at her like that.” Din rolled his eyes when he caught yours. “He acts like I’m the worst when I’m just telling him to stay put.” 

“He just wants to be around you, Din.” And I can’t blame him, especially after finding out he was rescued. You led the way back to his front door, reaching for the coat that you’d draped over the banister, along with your bag. “Thanks for dinner.” As you zipped the jacket, you met his eyes again, giving him a small smile. “If you have any other questions, that site can probably answer a lot of them, but you can always ask me at work, too. It’s pretty straightforward.” 

“I figured.” He was leaning against the railing, arms once again crossed over his broad chest, the bottom of one socked foot pressed to the wall’s surface just above the baseboard. “And you’re welcome. It… I’m glad you stopped over tonight.” You are? Fighting back a smile as you zipped your boot, you turned your attention toward the door, reaching for the handle. “I’ll finish filling out that information when you leave, and see you at work tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be there.” Sighing as the cool air rushed in when you pulled the door open, you looked back at Din over one shoulder, nodding. “Have a good night.” 

“You too.” He followed you out onto the porch as you made your way down the stairs, the man still standing there by the time you’d buckled yourself in and started the vehicle. As you backed out, you noticed that Grogu had joined him, the dog sitting next to Din, pressed close to one of his legs. 

The radio still played softly as you drove, but you paid no attention to it, instead focused on the previous few hours - and what you’d learned about Din. Blowing out a breath as you sat at a stoplight, you stopped trying to hide your smile and let it free, grinning as you eased your foot off the brake. 

It was going to be a long five weeks - but you couldn’t wait to see how they went. 

—

Cuyir jate: be good

K'olar : come here 

Laam: up 

Gev: stop (stay)

- - - 

Tag list coming separately!

[the-boy-meets-evil]

a simple agreement | kth

pairing: taehyung x f!reader trope/au: fake dating genre: mostly just fluff, slight comedy? rating: general (unless i add another chapter) warnings: mentions of drinking, taehyung's mother makes an appearance and i love her, reader is kind of snarky, taehyung is in over his head, it's just a fake dating trope because of taehyung's family word count: ~4.5k summary: taehyung comes from an incredibly wealthy family and hasn't ever given much thought to settling down. that is, until his father says he can't take his place at the head of the family business unless he's married. but maybe he's found the perfect solution. a/n: i wrote this initially for another fandom and have been having the absolute worst writer's block. so, i'm hoping this clears it up. initially i'd planned to carry the story on, so if you're interested in what happens next, let me know! it's also on ao3 here if that's your thing

“You okay, babe?” 

The question broke through Taehyung’s daze as he stared out the window onto his parents’ estate. It was nothing but beautiful green grass all the way to the stables in the summer. Now it was blanketed in fresh snow. Growing up here had not been all bad, he reminded himself, and it wasn’t bad to be back here now. 

He turned around to see you standing in the doorway, a perfect fit for this lifestyle of functions and charity work, a perfect fit for the Kim family. The weak winter sunlight streaming in the window caught your warm eyes, which were trained on him and looked softer than usual, at least for when the two of you were alone. Instinctively, you reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, forgetting you had pulled it half up and clipped it, keeping the long strands off your face. The long-sleeved cocktail dress complimented your figure perfectly while still being up to the Kim family standards for an event like this one. Even your heels were simple, all designed to be the perfect fixture on Taehyung’s arm for photographs without pulling too much focus.

By all accounts, you were beautiful, both inside and out, and it was something that Taehyung never failed to notice. When he had told his family you were officially together, they had been thrilled. Finally, it seemed their eldest child and only son had found someone he could be serious about. Finally, the papers would stop writing about the playboy heir to the Kim business. Finally, everything was falling back into the plans that the Kims had made for their son. You were poised, had gone to the proper schools, were a good conversationalist, well-read, a philanthropist, connected to the right society organizations. His mother took you shopping and to luncheons with all her friends, his father pulled him aside to express his approval. 

Once the two of you separated from the parents and all the obligations, you would turn off parent mode and you were actually one of the only people Taehyung had ever been able to truly be himself around. You never judged him, never made him feel bad or guilty or anything. Somehow, he could unload things he had never said to anyone and you took it all in stride, staying by his side. On paper, you were perfect. There was only one problem.

None of it was real. From the moment it had started, the whole relationship had been fake. The two of you weren’t in love and never had been. Taehyung had needed a solution and you had been the perfect means to an end.

Taehyung finally pulled his eyes back to yours again and he forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, darling.” 

You stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, eyes still appraising his face. If you had one fault, it was this. There was no way he could ever hide what he was thinking from you. Nobody had ever been able to read him so well.

“We don’t have to go through with this, you know,” you said softly, watching him as the words came out.

“What other choice do I have?” His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as he said it but he knew you would have seen. He looked away to buy himself a second.

“Go it alone?” 

It was not the first time you had made the suggestion. Usually, when anyone else had said that to him, he just scoffed and dismissed it. There was just something different in the way you said it, though, as if you knew him well enough to say it from a concern for his happiness rather than anything else.

Taehyung sighed and with it tried to dispel some of the weight he was feeling. “I don’t care about the trust fund, I never have. But the business…”

Because that was the truth. He didn’t care if he lost out on his trust fund that stated he had to be married first. That had never mattered to him. But he did care about having a chance to make a difference in the business. The two had always been separate in his mind. Why should they be tied together? That was when Taehyung’s father had told him that he could not take over the business while unmarried, the investors and the board were all against it. According to them, it was at direct odds with everything the business stood for. That made Taehyung pause in a way nothing else had. Losing out on his trust was one thing, there were other ways to make money. He was not prepared to give up on the business without the fight of his life.

“I know.” Your voice was gentle, soothing, understanding.

“I can’t give it up when there’s still something I can do about it. I deserve the chance to leave my mark on it.”

“You also deserve the chance to fall in love, Tae.” 

Again, there was nothing condescending or judgmental about the statement. There was only concern for him. Even though your entire romantic relationship had been a sham, there was a level of care between the two of you that neither had been expecting. 

“I know,” he conceded.

Taehyung turned back toward the window and lost himself yet again. He let his mind drift back to when this had all started. Had anyone told him this is where he would be less than a year later, he would have asked if they were out of their minds. 

It was another weekend of doing the exact same thing as Taehyung and his friends did any time there was something to celebrate, bar hopping around the city until they were so gone that they barely knew their own names. And nobody could come up with excuses to celebrate like the group of them, who had been friends since their boarding school days. Taehyung would also argue that nobody quite knew how to party like them and few people could keep up. 

Although the night started like any other, you were different. Taehyung rarely worried about finding women on his nights out like this, partly because he did not want to generate another tabloid photograph for his parents to chastise him over that called him the city’s most eligible bachelor, and partly because none of the women were ever enough to hold his interest. 

That night was different, though. You were different. When he noticed you on the other side of the bar, he immediately called a friend’s attention to you, not even noticing that you were also with a group of friends. But, you had noticed them, the second they had walked in, you later told Taehyung. It had been impossible to not notice them, what with all the commotion they had caused. Despite yourself, you later admitted that you had been amused by the sight of them. 

As the night progressed, Taehyung had been compelled to try and speak to you, to use one of his fail-safe lines as he was quite drunk already. Was it even a good line? Had he delivered it correctly? He did not have those answers. What he did know was that nothing seemed to be working on the mystery woman you were. Instead, you wore an amused grin every time he approached you, which had likely been more than several times.

That was where the night went hazy. It was at that point that his mind had gone into protective mode to save him from remembering anything else that he had said or done. What his mind had not counted on, though, was that you would remind him the next morning. 

Taehyung awoke to the unfamiliar smell of delicious food wafting into his bedroom from somewhere else in the apartment. Odd, he thought, as he lived alone and did not have any memory of bringing someone home the night before. As he shifted to go investigate the source of the smell, he noticed a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table. He reached for the bottle and caught sight of a note written in very elegant curling lettering. 

Don’t take any more of these until 1 pm.

He frowned. It had crossed his mind that maybe some of his friends had crashed at his place last night since it had the extra space, was the nicest of any of their places. Taehyung was also pretty sure it was the closest to the last bar they had been at. But none of his friends had handwriting like that. So, the mystery continued.

Consulting the clock and finding that it was not actually after 1 pm yet, Taehyung stood up from the bed, waiting for the hangover to hit. Surprisingly, it did not seem that bad. Somehow he had managed to get into a pair of his pajama bottoms too, so maybe he had not been as drunk as he assumed. It was time to find out who the mysterious, cooking intruder was, and he braved the walk to the kitchen. 

There were no words when he rounded the corner and saw a woman with her back to him, whisking eggs in a bowl, skillet on the stovetop beside her. Her hair was in a messy knot on top of her head and she wore a baggy t-shirt with a pair of what looked like his joggers that must have been rolled over several times to fit her. The whole scene already made zero sense to him when you turned around. That was when his stomach had really, truly, dropped. The girl from the bar. Parts of the night came flooding back. 

“Morning sleepyhead,” you said cheerily.

Just as he was about to say something in response, the doorknob of the door to the flat turned and caused Taehyung to turn towards it with a sharp panic. Only one other person had a key to his apartment and would do something like this, dropping by unannounced, and incidentally, it was the last person that he would have wanted to walk in at that moment. There was no time to say anything to you, to tell you to hide, or explain why you ought not to be there. No, this was happening and he was in for it.

A well-to-do older woman with perfect skin and dark, almost black, hair pulled into a tight bun atop her head stepped cheerily over the doorstep. As always, she was immaculately dressed, with shoes and a handbag color matched to her outfit. Her eyes went to Taehyung first, a frown replacing the previous smile at his appearance. However, he was saved from the tut forming on her lips as she seemed to realize someone else was in the flat.

“Oh! Taehyung, I didn’t realize you would have company,” she said, throwing her son a glare as she looked at you in the kitchen.

Not missing a beat, you (Taehyung was calling you the beautiful mystery woman from the night before) smiled brightly and wiped your hands off, stepping forward.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Kim,” you said and gave your full name.

Taehyung was struck with several thoughts all at once. How did you know his surname? How did you know this was his mother? How had he not remembered such a pretty name? And most importantly, how was your voice so chipper and pleasant after a night out? 

“You as well,” Mrs. Kim said, not bothering to offer her first name to you. “I hadn’t meant to intrude…”

“Oh, you’re really not. Several of us went out last night and Taehyung was kind enough to offer some of us to stay here to not have to head such a long way home. You’ve only barely missed Jimin and Jeonghan,” you said quickly but without a hint of untruth behind the words. “I couldn’t help myself, though. I wanted to make sure to leave some breakfast as thanks before heading out myself.”

“Jimin and Jeonghan were here as well? Such lovely young men,” Mrs. Kim said, softening a bit. “Did you have fun?” 

“We did, and we were very careful to avoid anything that...well, you know,” you said, almost conspiratorially to the older woman.

What was happening? Taehyung wondered, not even for the first time, who this mystery of a woman that was completely charming his mother with no notice was.

“You should let this one come out with you more, Taehyung. She’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Mrs. Kim said to her son with a touch of affection and a larger hint of affection toward the stranger. 

“Have you eaten? I haven’t put the eggs on yet, I can easily add more,” you said.

“Oh, I’m fine, but you’re very kind,” Mrs. Kim said. “No, I was just in the area and was going to twist his arm here to come to lunch with me, but I’ll take a raincheck. Maybe if I play my cards right, he’ll bring you along as well.”

“Mother,” Taehyung said, speaking up.

“Oh, he does speak,” Mrs. Kim tutted. 

“You haven’t given me much chance,” Taehyung said and Mrs. Kim waved a hand dismissively. 

“Don’t forget the function tomorrow night and don’t you dare bring that Jennie or whatever her name was, she was awful,” Mrs. Kim said and went to kiss her son’s cheek.

“That’s tomorrow?” Taehyung asked, clearly having forgotten. 

“Yes, and you had better be on time with an appropriate date or so help me,” Mrs. Kim said before turning to you. “Say, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Mother,” Taehyung said again, warningly.

“What?” Mrs. Kim asked, feigning innocence. 

“You can’t just invite someone to a function at the last minute and put her on the spot,” Taehyung said.

“Why not?” Mrs. Kim asked. There was no hint of embarrassment behind her words. She just existed in an entirely different world.

“For one it’s a Saturday night and she may have other plans, for a second thing, it’s incredibly short notice, and for a third, she may not have an evening gown just ready to go,” Taehyung said, cheeks going red at having to have this conversation in front of you.

“As it happens, I’m not busy tomorrow night and I do have several dresses in my closet that work for a function,” you said and Taehyung snapped his head to yours in complete shock.

“Lovely, I’ll see you both tomorrow then,” Mrs. Kim and headed out the door. 

During his reflection on that first meeting, you had moved to stand beside him, not interrupting the silence that washed over the two of you. That was something he had appreciated from the beginning. While you were incredibly interesting to listen to and capable of holding a conversation on such a wide variety of topics, you were also just as happy to let the silence settle between the two of you. You were not like the other vapid society girls, unable to understand when their very existence was annoying. Then again, your existence was never annoying. 

Glancing over at you, he found that you were also gazing out the window. As if feeling his gaze on you, you turned your face slightly to meet his, your eyes again hinting at depths most did not get to see with the public face you wore. The two of you were somewhat the same in that regard, both used to putting on a show when you were around groups of people.

“I was just thinking about the first time we met,” he confessed and saw the corners of your lips twitch up into a smirk.

“What you remember of it,” you responded, not missing a beat.

“I suppose I should be glad I don’t remember more,” he admitted and you laughed, a melodic sound that routinely brought smiles to those around you.

“I wish I’d recorded you,” you said and he chuckled at the thought.

“You should’ve, it would be worth quite a lot now to the right buyer,” he responded and you turned to face him fully, eyes alight with mischief and joy.

“Maybe I’m just pretending I haven’t recorded you and I’m saving it for the right moment,” you mused and he rolled his eyes.

“You’re exhausting,” Taehyung responded without any real bite and you smiled wide.

“Which is exactly why this works, because I challenge you,” you shot back and he sighed. You were right, again. Not that he liked to admit how often you were right. And not that you needed him to. It was one of the many unspoken truths.

“I suppose we’d better go join the party,” Taehyung said and adjusted his suit nervously before fumbling with the buttons on the jacket. 

Your hands carefully brushed his out of the way and deftly fastened the jacket where he had been struggling. When you finished, you looked up into his eyes, studying him. “I meant what I said, you know.”

“About what?” Taehyung thought he knew, but he needed to hear you to say it one more time.

“About forgetting everything, calling the whole thing off.” 

Taehyung studied you for a moment, trying to find a trace of annoyance or insincerity, but there was nothing there apart from the same care you had shown from nearly the beginning. He took a deep steadying breath and fixed a smile on his face. 

“I’m still in if you are,” he said and turned to extend his arm.

“Course I am,” you agreed breezily and took his arm.  

“Then let’s go.”

The pair of you left the room and descended downstairs to the party, eyes on you from the moment that the two of you appeared at the top of the stairs. It was a party to celebrate another year of Taehyung, after all. Almost immediately, he found his mother’s eyes and she smiled warmly at him. There was a small part of him that felt guilty about it all, worried that she would find out the whole relationship had been a lie from the moment she met you. His mother had grown fond of you almost immediately, as had every other person who met you. 

His mother immediately came up and whisked you off to talk to another friend of hers about some function or other. Taehyung was honestly not listening, but his eyes followed you as you walked off anyway, catching the wink you threw back at him when you caught him watching. All he could think about was being nervous about what he was about to do. He had put the nerves down to not wanting anyone to realize that it was all fake and not considered any other possibility.

Before he knew it, and certainly before he was ready, Taehyung met your eyes across the room and saw you nod nearly imperceptibly. It was crazy to be nervous. The two of you had planned the whole thing out and Taehyung had practiced what he was going to say. Had practiced until he was completely sure and comfortable with how it was going to go. This was supposed to be the easy part. The hard part should have been convincing everyone that the two of you were in love, which had turned out to be surprisingly easy. Everywhere the two of you went, you both heard what a stunning couple you were, how lucky you both were to have found each other, how wonderful you both were to have around.

He stepped up to where the band had been playing but was now taking a break, grabbing hold of the microphone. It was traditional that he gave a speech to thank everyone for coming to celebrate his birthday. Nothing odd about this. He tapped the microphone and noticed how quickly the silence fell.

“Thank you all for coming to celebrate my birthday, it means a lot to see so many faces here tonight. Of course, the real thank you goes to my mother, who tirelessly planned such a wonderful event,” he said and paused to raise his glass to his mother. “I have to admit, I was not really looking forward to turning 27, I was kind of dreading it, actually. But then something happened that I never could have imagined.”

Exactly as the two of you planned, Taehyung found you in the crowd of people, standing right next to his mother, as you both agreed you should be. You gave him a dazzling smile and he felt immediately at ease again. It was just like you had told him. Focus on me, you had said, and pretend I’m the only one in the room.

“Then, I met one of the most beautiful, kind, intelligent women in the world. Her smile lights up every room she’s in and you can’t help but be happy in her presence. But, most importantly, as my mother will tell anyone that asks, she has no problem putting me in my place.”

There was laughter at this, just as you had assured him there would be. His mother was nodding along and gave you a smile. Taehyung made it seem as if he were taking a thoughtful pause.

“So, although we’re here celebrating my birthday, I hope you’ll indulge me in this,” Taehyung continued. “She’s been the most wonderful person to have by my side for the past nine months and I know it might seem like I’m moving fast, but someone once told me that when you know, you know.”

Here, Taehyung paused again to look over at his father. It came directly from a conversation the two men had before Taehyung had even met you. Using it here was showing that he had learned from his father.

“I’ve realized that I don’t actually know nearly as much as I thought I did, but what I do know is that I don’t want to learn with anyone else by my side. I don’t want to share adventures with anyone else. I don’t want to go through life without her for a single day,” Taehyung said as he stepped off the stage and moved through the parting crowd towards you and his parents. When he reached you, he withdrew a box. “My darling, will you marry me?”

You had a hand over your mouth as if you were in shock and Taehyung just gazed at you, showing nothing but the care he genuinely felt. This beautiful, kind, captivating woman had been the most supportive friend he had ever had and he had not even known you for a year.

Everything that he said in the speech was true. You were as beautiful as you were kind, as intelligent as were charming, and you challenged him in a way nobody had ever been able to challenge him before. This was the first time he could remember not getting bored of someone in a long time, possibly ever. When anyone else stood up to him, he would write them off. When you did it, however, he stopped and listened. There was value in what you said and you had a way of getting through to him even in his foulest of moods.

He watched as you brushed tears out of your eyes and was in awe of you yet again. How were you able to cry on command on top of everything else that you could do? Honestly, there seemed to be nothing that you were incapable of. It should have annoyed him and yet, there was no way to be annoyed with you.

“Yes,” you said, having pretended to compose yourself enough to answer. “Yes, Tae, of course I’ll marry you.”

Your always dazzling smile had gotten somehow brighter as you flung your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his. He realized that the two of you had not talked about what was going to happen once you said yes and there was a moment of panic. Of course, you had it covered though. You pulled away from him and placed your hands on either side of his face as you pressed your lips firmly against his. Instinct took over and he wound his arms around your waist more tightly, the box still in one hand, pressing you tightly against him. It was like he was on autopilot as he deepened the kiss. You, never missing a beat, matched him. Time stood still and Taehyung forgot that there were people all around until you gently placed your hands on his chest and pushed the two of you gently apart. At the same moment, Taehyung snapped back to reality and heard the applause all around the two of you.

In front of him, you smiled at him, eyes full of affection, as you held your hand out to him. Remembering that he had the box in his hand still, he slid the ring onto your outstretched finger. It fit perfectly, as he knew it would because you had already tried it on. He had wanted you to come with him to pick it out, but you reminded him that someone could see the two of you and it would spoil the plan. So he had taken a friend of his instead and picked out the most stunning ring he could imagine, knowing his mother’s approval was just as important. 

The rest of the party seemed to fly by in a whirl of people congratulating him and wanting to see your ring. You, ever the perfect companion, showed off the ring and gushed along with whatever anyone was saying. To anyone that didn’t know you, you would have seemed just a vapid as every other woman that ran in these circles, only caring about superficial things. But, Taehyung did know you and he knew that you were just going along with the plan you both made. That was what made you an infinitely better person than he was. It only served to reaffirm what he had said after the function his mother had roped you into: you were too good for him. 

While part of Taehyung was present in accepting the congratulations, another part of him was somewhere else entirely. The kiss consumed his thoughts. The two of you had never kissed, not like that at least. Any kisses had been quick pecks, usually on the cheek as was the custom in these social circles. Both of you had been very careful drawing up the lines and careful to not cross them. Both of you had agreed on that. This worked because things were not messy and the two of you had not gotten drunk and slept together, though Taehyung had considered it a time or two. Or ten, maybe, but who was counting?

She kissed you back, said a small voice in the back of his head. It was true. He knew that he had been the one to deepen the kiss. But you had gone along with it too. What Taehyung did not know, though, was if you were still playing the game or not. And more importantly, he did not know why it mattered so much to him if you were. This was all just a fake relationship, right?

[chaoticgoodlawyerwrites]

Preview for HOMD Chapter 10

Hey folks! I am very tired and still pretty sick but! I know not how to rest if I am physically able to work soooo. Let's just blame my capricron sun. But now we present! HOMD chapter 10! This is, again, a joint effort with @mocheng-gusto!

---

Shen Yuan was reminded of this last unfortunate fact as he turned off his fifth alarm and read the notification to his most recent message.

✂️: Don’t forget to bring a certain special someone to our date today~ 

Fuck. Shen Yuan had completely forgotten about that part.

Not about the lunch of course. Yesterday he had been psyching himself up to “meet the family”. He was nervous but not anxious as he was putting together the outfit Mei Kexin had specifically made him buy for this occasion.

And just then was when his package arrived.

Alright yes, he had to admit that after that all other thoughts had exited his brain like an emergency evacuation. But by then he was too out of it thinking of silicone heavenly pillars to do anything but the most mundane tasks to keep himself busy!

Nothing to do about that. Fortunately at some point in the past when he’d been more mindful he’d put enough alarms to make sure he’d wake up with plenty of time to get ready, so he had time for a thorough shower and a quick breakfast, but not for anything more.

He would’ve liked to go on a jog to free himself of any restless energy but… thinking about it, he didn’t think his body would be able to take the impact. 

His musings were interrupted by his phone pinging with two new messages.

✂️: And don’t even think you can get out of bringing your man 

✂️: Remember how much blackmail material I have and won’t hesitate to use ❤️ 

Right.

That was the detail he hadn’t accounted for so far. Luo Binghe couldn’t come for quite obvious reasons, and it wasn’t like he had any desires to fess up that he was dating, married, to a mind construct, but he had other options. He’d disappoint his friend and her girlfriend no matter what, but Shen Yuan didn’t want to completely ruin their afternoon. 

Good thing he had a Plan B in mind. The problem was that he never informed his Plan B of his participation in this ruse.

No time like the present! Shen Yuan called Shang Qinghua as he was getting rid of all the gross beddings and towels.

The call was picked up on the third ring. “Bro?”

“Free food.” Best to start with his strongest cards. “I’m inviting you to lunch, with plenty of leftovers to bring home.”

Shang Qinghua was silent for a few seconds. “… Are you bribing me?”

Technically. “Are you coming or not?”

“Aww, no need to be so shy about it bro. If you were feeling lonely you could’ve just said so!” Sensing Shen Yuan’s silence as an impatient one, Shang Qinghua was quick to add. “But sure, why not.”

Shen Yuan discreetly let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sending a Didi to your place. You have twenty minutes to get yourself decent and finish whatever you’re doing.”

Shang Qinghua mumbled. “Every day you’re becoming more like your brother.”

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing! Just send me the info and I’ll be down when it arrives.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Whe–” Shen Yuan hung up before he was able to get the full word out. He had a couple of cars to order and a cold shower waiting for him.

-----------

Shen Yuan, because the shopping center was actually closer to downtown due to the somewhat upscale nature of the place, got there first. Shang Qinghua wasn’t too far behind, climbing out of the didi with eyes and something like fear on his face. “Bro, what the fuck?”

“Wardrobe,” Shen Yuan said before grabbing his friend’s arm and pulling him in, putting the little strength he had worked to build to use. “Don’t worry; I’m paying.”

“No shit you’re paying!” Shang Qinghua hissed. “I can’t afford to breathe in here. What the actual fuck is going on? Are you becoming my sugar daddy? Platonic, of course; love you but not like that, bro.”

“Tch, you wish. Besides, I’m straight. I’m just paying for stuff today so don’t question it.”

“What kind of lunch are we going to that apparently requires shopping?!” Shang Qinghua asked quietly, eyes darting from side to side as if a nervous herbivore. Shen Yuan locked eyes with a sales associate in the men’s section and, spotting a sale, the person discretely hurried towards them. “Oh, my God, are you taking me to lunch with your family!? Is Shen Jiu going to be there!?! Bro, I’m noping out of the free food offer if that’s the–”

“No, it’s not with my family, sheesh,” Shen Yuan said through clenched teeth before smiling at the sales associate. In a much more polite tone, he addressed them with, “Hi. My friend here needs appropriate semi-casual attire for brunch. We have a rather immediate deadline and would appreciate your assistance.”

“Of course, sir. If sir could please follow me…” Shang Qinghua was too polite to his fellow service worker to resist their urging, but he did throw Shen Yuan a dirty look as he left him alone. He watched from a distance to be sure that Shang Qinghua didn’t pick anything out that was ridiculous but otherwise left him to it, helpfully avoiding the questions his friend had about this ‘lunch’.

He would find out soon enough as it was.

[seb-writess]

Exactly You

Pairings: Naruto/Sasuke

Tags: Modern AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake Dating, There’s Only One Bed, Implied Sexual Content, Internalised Homophobia, Biphobic and Homophobic Language, Bisexual Erasure, 

Summary:

“But…why’d ya tell him it was me? I’m definitely not Uchiha material.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re just…the first person I thought of when I was trying to make this lie work. We’re so close anyway, it was easiest to sell it if it was you.”

Naruto sighs with his whole body. He does everything with his whole body. It’s one of the first things I noticed about him. One of the first things I hated about him.

One of the first things about him I fell in love with.

“Now I’ve told Itachi so many details specific to you,” I continue. “It won’t work unless it’s exactly you.”

In a desperate bid to have Itachi stop setting him up on pointless blind dates, Sasuke enlists Naruto's help. Now, they're sequested to a private house with the intimidating Itachi Uchiha, and his group of loyal frat boys. Naruto begins to learn first hand why Sasuke loathes his brother so much, along with the other deep secrets Sasuke has kept locked away inside a frozen heart. Good thing they're on a mountain in the middle of winter with snow around the corner. That should be enough to keep those secrets frozen shut.

Status: Complete (26,000 words)

READ UNDER THE CUT

I am so fucked.

“Excuse me?” I say into the phone, my voice betraying me with a tremble I don’t give it permission to have.

“I said,” Itachi repeats on the other end, deep voice sure and poignant.  In a ‘no nonsense’ voice.  In a ‘I’m speaking to you and you will listen’ voice.  “Bring your boyfriend to the family reunion this week.”

I swallow.

“He’s busy.”

“With what?  It’s winter break.  I thought you two would be ecstatic for the free time together.”

“Yeah, but because I made plans, he made plans.  And now he’s busy.”

Itachi goes silent.  My mouth goes dry.

“Don’t you think it’s weird I haven’t met him yet?” he asks.

“No,” I say quickly.  “I don’t think that’s weird at all.”

“And what does it say about the man who thinks he’s worthy of my precious baby brother that he can’t step up and meet the family he’s marrying into?”

I bite my lip.  “Don’t talk like that.  It’s creepy.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

I slam a fist into my forehead.  My sweat band comes slightly loose with the action.  I always have the worst trouble keeping my bangs out of my face.

“I thought you said he didn’t have a family of his own,” Itachi continues.

“Yeah, but-”

“So tell him that if he wants to keep seeing you, he better realise that this is important and come with you to the reunion.”

I swallow.  Lick my lips.  It’s too cold inside my apartment to sweat, but I start trembling at my dining table.

“It’s not that simple-”

“Actually, it is, Sasuke.”

Fuck, I hate when he gets like this.  No nonsense.  No budging.  No room for argument.  It’s no different from when I was eight and wouldn’t clean my room.  It’s just as annoying, and just as impossible to pass.

Itachi continues, “This is an important family-”

“Like you’d ever let me forget.”

“-and we want important people coming into it.”

“We’re not even that serious!”

“Oh, you’re not?”

Shit.  Fuck.

“I mean, like, we’re serious enough to be talking about moving in together,” my words come out sounding fake.  And if I can hear it, Itachi can definitely hear it.  “But marriage is like…way, way down the road.”

“Serious enough to move in together but not serious enough to meet the family?”

“Well-”

“Sasuke.”  It’s that tone.  That fucking tone.  I’ve lost this argument.  I lost it when it began.  “Bring him to the reunion, or I’m going to have to assume you’re making him up.”

My only saving grace is that Itachi can’t hear how badly I’m shaking right now.

“I’m not,” I croak.

“Good.  Then I can’t wait to meet him.”

He hangs up.  Conversation fucking over.

I pull my phone away from my face, my sweat band coming loose completely and my bangs fall over my eyes.  I hardly notice.

I am so fucked.

“Which ones?” Naruto holds up two bouquets of flowers to me.  One is bright, pink daisies, the other is a hoard of garish, yellow roses.  I flinch away from the onslaught of sweet scent they bring with them.

“Don’t you think flowers are a little predictable?” I ask.  “Shouldn’t you be trying something more personal if you’re going to win her back?”

Naruto’s eyes keep flicking back and forth between the flowers in his hands.

“What do you mean?  Girls love flowers!”

I sigh.

Naruto puts the daisies down, and makes his way over to a different stand.  The weekend market bustles around us.  It’s full of noise and motion and people.   I hate people.  But if I’m going to get through this, I’m going to need Naruto’s help.  Which means playing best fucking friend in anyway he needs.

A gust of wind bellows and I pull my jacket tighter around me.  Did I mention it’s five in the morning in the middle of winter and way too fucking cold to be flower shopping?

“What about a cactus?” he asks.

I can’t help it.  I laugh.  “‘Cause nothing says ‘babe, take me back, I’ve changed’ like a cactus.”

“Well, it might, if the cactus could talk!”

I laugh again.

I don’t know how serious Naruto was about the suggestion, but he seems to see it for the horrible idea it is as he makes his way past them to look at the lilies displayed in their intricate glass vases.

I’ve been looking for a gap in the conversation all morning, but so far most of our talk has been taken up by Naruto’s girlfriend.  Ex-girlfriend, actually.

They broke up a week ago, and Naruto has been steadfast on finding ways to win her back ever since.  It would be endearing, if it weren’t so completely heartbreaking to watch.  I can’t believe she’s making him grovel like this, and then has the mind to call him disingenuous.  Naruto couldn’t really explain it to me, partly because I don’t think he really understands it himself, but she broke up with him because she felt he didn’t really know her.  She felt like whenever they were together, his attention was somewhere else.

Probably, because it’s Naruto, who I don’t think has paid attention to one, single thing since the day he was born.  But because it’s Naruto, she should have seen how incredible that makes him.  He doesn’t notice a goddamn thing in the details, but he’s incredible at taking in the big picture.  At making you see yourself the way he sees you.

How else would someone like him stand my asshole attitude long enough to become friends with me?

That she can’t appreciate that, in my unbiased opinion, is her loss.

Naruto doesn’t think so.  He’s set on showing her he can be it all.  

It that way, we’re so similar.  Naruto has spent his whole life attempting to be everyone’s idea of enough, when he’s never needed to be more than himself.

If it sounds like I’m in love with him, it’s because I am.  I’ve gone and accepted my lot in life long ago, cursed to harbour feelings that will never be returned.  I’m a walking stereotype.  The queer man falling for his straight best friend.

Which is what’s going to make it so much more awkward to ask this favour.

“Naruto,” I start, knowing this shred of courage is going to leave fast if I don’t wrangle it around the neck like a snake.  “You know how I have that reunion with my family coming up?

Naruto rips his eyes away from a display of artificially dyed, blue azaleas.  When they sway close to his eyes, they make the colour of them shine.

“Yeah,” he says carefully.  “The one you always come back from acting like your soul has been pecked out of your eyes by demon chickens?” I blink, surprised at the avid description he’s taken, and nod.  “Remind me again why you keep going to this thing every year when it seems like you’d rather chew loose screws in your cereal?” 

Naruto has moved onto the artificially dyed, pale pink azaleas.  They don’t suit his skin tone.

“It’s not all bad,” I try.  I kind of hoped Naruto would have forgotten how un-excited I am for this trip every year.  That he wouldn’t have another reason to say no.  “Would you, I don’t know, maybe, want to come?  Maybe it’ll be bearable with you there.”

Naruto stands up straight.  He’s only half a head taller than me, but he’s got twice as much muscle.  I always feel like I’m craning my neck back to look at him.

“Seriously?”  He doesn’t sound totally enamoured by the idea, but he does seem curious.  I nod again.  “But I thought it was like, an exclusive Uchiha thing?”

I roll my eyes.  “Itachi invites half of his frat house.  I don’t see why I can’t invite just one friend to save me from their constant bickering despite promising they’re brothers and they love each other.”

Naruto grins at me.  “So, you’ll invite your honorary brother too?”

I have to strain my face to stop myself from frowning.  I hate when he calls us brothers.  To him, I might as well be.  We’ve been pretty much inseparable since our first year of college.  Even once we graduated and went out into the real world and got real world jobs, I’ve spent more time at his apartment than my own.  

Until he got a girlfriend, and it became about prioritising his relationship with her over his relationship with me.

Look.  I get it.  I’d prioritise anyone sucking my dick over him too.  I just never liked anyone enough to let them.

When they broke up, it was hard for him.  I’d spend nights on his couch while he laid across my lap.  He never cried, I don’t even know if he was ever that depressed over it.  He kind of just went really quiet.  He seemed to accept it fairly quickly though, and I thought that’d be the end of it.  Except he woke up one day with a fire up his ass, exclaiming he wasn’t going to let her go.  He was going to win her back.  Now, if I ever want to hang out, it’s under the pretence of performing an activity that may (but probably won’t) win her affections again.

It’s also what’s going to make convincing him of this next part so hard.

“Yeah, about that.”  Naruto is still facing me.  He’s raised a blonde eyebrow, the roses he’s still holding limp in his hand.  “At this thing, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

He drops the flowers.

I paid for the damaged flowers as quickly as I could and ran after Naruto, who is trying his level best to disappear into the crowd.  I can recognise the hunch of his shoulders and the dart back and forth of his head that he’s not angry, just anxious.  Overwhelmed.  I don’t blame him.

“Naruto!” I call after him, trying to push through everyone getting in my way.  “Naruto, wait!”

He finally stops beside a drinks vendor.  The vendor gives us a puzzled look.  I know what this must look like.  Naruto, looking like he just swallowed a lemon whole and me, running after him through a crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

Yeah, yeah, old man.  None of your business.  Move on.

“Naruto.”  I’m panting.  My breath comes out in white clouds.  Naruto finally turns to me.

“You want me to what now?”

He looks spooked.  I suck in a deep breath.

“I,” my voice gets stuck.  I clear my throat, and try again.  “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Naruto lets out a very undignified  “Huh?”

I steal myself.  I was prepared for this.  Of course he wouldn’t go along with it, no questions asked.  Who, in their right mind, would?

“Sasuke, I love you, bro,” he says.  I bite my tongue on the ‘bro’.  “But maybe not quite that much!”

I just need to explain to him why I need this.  He’ll understand.  It’s Naruto.  Be clear.  Be concise.  We can both get out of this unscathed.

“Look, it’s just that-”

“And besides!” He’s not listening.  He’s trying to get as many thoughts out of his head as he can before they swallow his brain.  “I don’t think my girlfriend is going to think I’m genuine about her if I go off and get a boyfriend like, two seconds after we broke up!”

“I’d just be a fake boyfriend.”

“That’s even worse,” he says, voice dark now.  “You see how that’s worse, right?  It’s kind of the definition of disingenuous.”

“Naruto…”

“And why me?  Ask Sakura!”  

“I’m not asking Sakura!”

“I know she never really got over you, but she’d be over the moon to pretend to be your girlfriend for a few days.”

“It can’t be Sakura.”

I’m making no sense.  I’m losing him and I’m making no sense.  Get your shit together, Uchiha!

“If it’s a gender thing, ask Sai.  Or Kakashi!” he insists.

“No, I can’t just…”

“Then again, Kakashi is the same age as Itachi.  That’d be kind of weird…”

“It has to be you,” I plead.

Another undignified “Huh?” leaves his mouth.  I press my knuckles into my forehead.  The lemonade vendor isn’t even pretending he’s not listening to us anymore.

“Or else-”

“Or else what?   Sasuke, this is crazy!  I’m not becoming a part of some fake dating trope with you.  Yes, you’re my best friend, but-”

“Naruto…” I hate how pathetic my voice has become.

“But don’t you see how weird it would be?”

“Naruto, it has to be you, or Itachi is going to marry me off.”

Naruto doesn’t have any more words; not even any more undignified “Huh?” s.

Let me explain from the beginning.

The Uchiha clan is predominant.  Prestigious.  Even after losing my grandparents and my parents, Itachi did a great job of going against the odds and expanding the Uchiha company beyond what anyone thought possible of a mere twenty-one year old fresh out of business school.  It was incredible to watch those old ass board members grovel for his forgiveness once they realised how much money he could rake in, all thanks to his intuition.  Intuition he definitely inherited from our father.  I admire him for that.

He’ll never hear me say it of course.

But being born into a great family comes with great expectations.  Itachi gave me until I graduated, but as soon as that cap was thrown into the air with celebratory jest, he was already on my case about marriage.  House.  Kids.

Heirs.

He’s so busy running the family, he has no time to do it himself, he would say.  It’s up to me, he’d tell me.  And I’d curse his name for even mentioning it to me.

But it got worse. 

And worse.

And worse.

The profiles of women he’d email me.  The blind dates he’d send me on.  It was driving me crazy.  So crazy, in fact, that one day during a particularly heated phone call, I said something I may come to regret.

“You have a boyfriend!?” Came his incredulous question.

Shit.

Shit fuck.

Shit fuck shit.

“Y-yeah?” I clear my throat, prepared to put more force behind it.  “Yeah.  I do.”

There’s a silence on the other end I don’t like.  I can almost hear Itachi calculating.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“Just over a week ago,” I answered.  “We’ve been seeing each other for a while, but I was waiting for it to stick before I told you.”

Itachi tutted.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  Really.”

I could hardly believe it.  Was this all it would take?  A simple white lie and I would be free of his relentless pestering and insistent matchmaking?  Surely, it couldn’t be that easy.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

“Where’d you meet him?”

“Uh…”

“You haven’t been seeing each other for so long you can’t remember where you first met?” Itachi asked, a voice I forgot he knew coming back into play.

“That’s not it!” I snapped.  How could this be falling apart so quickly?  It’s not like I’m a bad liar either, but something about Itachi makes it impossible to slip anything by him.  I seem to learn first hand more than anyone else why he’s so prolific in his own business and in the field.  “I was just…”

“Sasuke,” Itachi started.  “If you’re lying-”

“I’m not lying!” I sounded desperate, which meant I was seconds away from cracking.  I needed to sell this to him, and fast, before Itachi brushed it off as a little brother’s fantasy and sent me his new bingo book of bimbos.  

So I called on something he told me years ago, when I was trying to sneak my first cigarette past him.  He caught me easily enough, disappointment deep in the lines of his face.  But it wasn’t the smoking he was disappointed by, it was how I got caught so easily.  He sat me down and gave me this long ass lecture, about the principles of building a good lie.  The best lies, he’d said, are founded in the truth.

If you lie about what you know, it’s easier for yourself to believe it.  Which makes it easier for them to believe it.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, a sunshine smile.  He appears to me in a vision of fangs and whisker tattoos and terrible bed hair he never makes an attempt to tame.

“We met in college.  In my photography elective,” I answered, and finally, the words began to sound real.  “We were partnered for a class exercise.  We hated each other at first, and after he pushed me into the campus fountain because I called him a dumbass one too many times, I decided, hey, this is the dumbass for me.”

Itachi laughed.  Well, scoffed.  Which meant I was selling it.

“Okay, that does sound like you.”

I allowed myself a victory smile.

“What does he do for a job?” Itachi asked.

“He’s a delivery biker for a ramen shop on the corner of his street.  Pretty good ramen, too.  But he wants to open his own business.”

“Doing what?”

This is where it would sound ridiculous.  Too ridiculous for Itachi, but ridiculous enough for it to sound real.

“A ninja dojo.”

Itachi laughed for real then.  “You’re kidding!?”

I shrugged, not caring Itachi found it amusing.  “You should see his business model.  I think you’d be impressed.”

“Okay, what’s his name?”

I knew the minute I told him, Itachi was going to go through my instagram feed to find him, assess his value as a prospective partner and, worst of all, find out this man is not dating me.

“Don’t even think about it,” I snarled.  “You’re not cyber stalking my boyfriend.”

Itachi made a noise.  “If I wanted to find him, I could.”

I rolled my eyes, but made it a little more audible for him by clicking my tongue.  “Itachi.  Seriously.  He’s good.”  Too good for me, but lies are all about the details, even the ones you don’t tell.  “I don’t need you scaring him off.  You want me to marry eventually, don’t you?”

Itachi hummed.  “Fine.  No cyberstalking.  For now.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Itachi continued.

We said our goodbyes and I ended the call, muttering to myself.

“Like that’ll ever happen.”

And I truly thought that would be the last of it.

My mistake.

After that, Itachi asked new details about him every time we spoke.

“If I’m not allowed to cyberstalk him, I have to get my information from somewhere.”

The first few weeks, I just gritted my teeth, and relayed any facts Itachi deemed interesting enough to want to know.  After Itachi felt like he knew enough about my boyfriend himself, he asked what we had been doing.  So I’d tell him.

We went to the beach in the summer.  Sand and waves and sun clinging to his hard body as he threw me into the water.  Itachi didn’t need to know we were part of a group, and part of that group was his very real girlfriend.  

Naruto took me to the movies when I was upset over a project gone wrong at work.

He had let me choose everything.  The snacks.  The drinks.  The movie, even though he hates horror.  I had let him hold my hand the whole time.  

Luckily, to the untrained ear, it sounded like a date any time Naruto and I hung out, and I found I could sell it as such if I leant into the small things.  Like how cute Naruto looked cowering against my shoulder.  How good he looked sunbathing on the towel beside me.  How kind he was, even when I was being an arrogant prick and didn’t deserve it.

“You’re really taken with this guy, huh?” Itachi asked me one night.  I made a noise in the back of my throat.  A pained noise.

“Yeah.  I am.”

I think that was the only time no part of what I said was a lie.

I was doing a pretty good job of putting off making it any kind of real.  Even if Itachi was in town, I’d say my boyfriend had friends to see.  If he was around, and Itachi would ask to speak with him over the phone, I’d say he didn’t want to leave a bad impression and have their first meeting without the face to face.  

I knew I was stretching it thin.  I just hadn’t realised how thin until the thread didn’t just snap, Itachi slashed through it with a knife.

Naruto stares at me across the space between us.  His mouth had been falling further and further open with every minute I spoke as I told him everything.  Now that I’m done, I realise my coffee has gone cold in my hands.  I take a sip anyway.

“Geez, Sasuke!” Naruto says, scratching the back of his head.  “That’s…heavy.”

I grimace.  I hate him thinking I’m any kind of weak.  I’m not weak; I could have handled this entirely myself if my brother wasn’t literally the fucking worse.  Trying to get me tied up with a wife and, when that didn’t work, trying to get tied up in my love life anyway.

Even my fake one.

“But…why’d ya tell him it was me?   I’m definitely not Uchiha material.”

I swallow more of my cold coffee.

Okay, maybe I didn’t tell him everything.   Of course I certainly wasn’t going to tell him I thought of him first because he’d be my ideal boyfriend anyway, and that I'm obsessively in love with him.

“You’re my best friend.”  I’m not going to call him my brother.  “You’re just…the first person I thought of when I was trying to make this lie work.  We’re so close anyway, it was easiest to sell it if it was you.”

Naruto sighs with his whole body.  He does everything with his whole body.  It’s one of the first things I noticed about him.  One of the first things I hated about him.  

One of the first things about him I fell in love with.

“Now I’ve told Itachi so many details specific to you,” I continue.  “It won’t work unless it’s exactly you.”

Naruto groans, throwing his head between his knees in the chair.  A few others in the coffee shop turn to glare at him.  I glare back at them.

I can see this falling apart in front of me.  I can see, now, what exactly it is I’m asking of him.  How much of him I’m taking away just so he can give it to me.  

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.  “I know this is too much for you.  I’ll tell Itachi…”  The truth?  Fuck no, I’d rather lie in a bed of snakes.  “I’ll tell him we broke up.  Or something.”  I can tell Naruto’s eyes are on me now, assessing my expression.  I try to keep it as neutral as possible.  “Maybe I can sell the heartbreak enough he’ll leave me alone for a few days.”

I meet Naruto’s eyes.  He’s got a certain look he gets when he’s really thinking.  When he’s seeing clearer than ever, can see the pathways set before him, and is taking his time choosing the correct one.  I’ve only seen that look a few times before, but it’s always breathtaking to watch his blue, round eyes fill with an indescribable emotion.

“He’s really just going to assign you a wife?” Naruto asks.

I bite my lip, and nod.

“Does he even know you’re bisexual?”

I shake my head.

Naruto crosses his arms, frowns, and sighs again.

“I’ll do it.”

No.  No fucking way.

“Really?” I ask, terrified to, less he change his mind.

Naruto groans.  “Yeah, I’ll do it.”  Regret already sits between his eyes, but he’s doing an excellent job of trying to erase it.  “I mean, I don’t want to be the best man at a wedding even you don’t want to be at.”

I laugh, relief leaving my lungs.  Naruto smiles at me.

“Naruto, you have no idea how much this means to me,” I force myself to say.  My voice is shaking.  I’m not good at the getting sappy thing.  It’s why I’d make a terrible boyfriend anyway.

“Yeah, I do,” Naruto insists.  Then he sits up straight, like he’s been poked with an idea.  “But you can’t tell my girlfriend about this!”

I scoff.  “Like I’d ever.  It’s embarrassing enough asking you.”

“I suppose I can work on getting her back from…where is this thing?”

“We have a winter house at the base of Mount Hokage.”

Naruto’s eyes light up.  “Woa!  You have a house all the way up there?  That’s like, bougie country!”

I try not to spit.  “It’s not bougie country!”

“Sasuke, as someone who has looked on in wonder his whole life wondering how the other half live, I can tell you, that’s bougie country!”

I groan.  I don’t let Naruto see my family’s wealth very often.  Mostly because, if I had a choice in the matter, I wouldn’t have anything to do with it at all.  I’ve worked my whole life for my own rewards.  I pay for my own apartment.  Won my own sports scholarship.  Everything in my apartment and on my back I’ve worked my own sweat out for.  I haven’t touched my family’s money in years.

Naruto knows we’re rich.  Everyone knows I’m famous.  Uchiha is a pretty unforgettable name (regrettably) and it’s what anyone zeroes in on the moment I introduce myself.  Except Naruto.  Naruto didn’t know who the fuck I was the day we met, and even when he found out, he didn’t care.

But Naruto has never seen how rich we are.  Honestly, I’d kind of hoped to go my whole life without him ever seeing it.  It’s not important.  It’s never been an issue in our friendship.  He’s the only person who has always known me outside my name or my family or my wealth.  I was kind of hoping he’d continue to know me like that.

“Fine!” I bend.  “It’s kind of, sort of, maybe a little ritzy up there.”

Naruto’s eyes go wide.  They sparkle in the setting winter sun.  “Do you have a whole mansion?”

I feel a muscle in my eye twitch.

“Maybe.”

His face breaks into a grin.

“I knew it!”

I roll my eyes.  

“Shut up, moron!  It’s not actually a big deal.”  Please don’t make it a big deal.

Naruto’s grin is huge.  “Well, if I have to spend my break single, sort of, at least I get to spend it in style!”

This whole thing is a mess, but at least I get to hear the hitch in Itachi’s breath when I tell him I spoke to my beloved boyfriend and he has valiantly agreed to come with me on winter break and meet the family.  He wasn’t counting on that, but I’ve always been good at calling his bluff when he’s called mine.

I break it all down for Naruto, who I see regretting this with each new piece of information I throw at him.  A week later, I somehow get him packed and into the car before he changes his mind.  I figure if I at least don’t talk about it during the drive up, he might not tuck and roll into the snow in a bid to escape.

He’s still abnormally silent.  Any kind of silence is abnormal for Naruto, but something specific is eating away at him.  I squeeze the steering wheel, my knuckles white despite the heater keeping my fingers warm.  

“Sasuke,” he says tepidly.

I try not to snap, to not let my impatience show.  It’s not like I could say anything if he chose to pull out now.  I couldn’t even blame him, but reserve the right to be extremely pissed.

“What is it?”

There’s a long moment of silence.  The radio is on but the volume is low.  

“We’re not gonna have to like, ya know…kiss?  Are we?”

I commend myself for not immediately swerving into the line of trees bordering the road.  My face flashes hot.  My eyes dart to the rearview mirror, making sure I can absolutely keep my face in check before I have this conversation with him.

“In front of my brother?  Fuck no!”

“Okay.”

I can tell he’s still worried about this.  I let out a frustrated sigh.  I can’t lie; I’m a little offended he’s so turned off by the idea of kissing me at all.

“Naruto, I promise you,” I say in what is a much gentler voice.  “Of everything that comes out of this weekend, kissing me will not be one of them.”

“Okay,” he says again, and I can tell he’s still not convinced.  “Just…couples kiss and all.  And it might poke a hole in the story if we don’t do…something.”

I’ve thought of this.  Of course I’ve thought of this.  I was just banking on the fact that Naruto is already an overly, physically affectionate person, and that my brother might mistake his usual, friendly, brohood touches for something meant to be more intimate, and only for me.  Not something he does with literally every one of his guy friends.

“We can hold hands.”  I hate how hot my cheeks get at even the thought of something so innocent.  “That’s enough PDA for anyone, let alone a room full of my relatives.”

“Okay.”

He sounds a little more sure this time.

“Why?  Don’t you want to kiss me?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.  “I’m too ugly for you, is that it?”

“Fuck off.  You know you’re gorgeous,” he says immediately.  

If he notices my face, I’m going to blame it on the car’s heater.

We spend a few minutes in what is noticeably a more comfortable silence, and then Naruto is grabbing the AUX chord and plugging in his own music.  Normally, I’m steadfast on the ‘my car, my music’ rule, but considering Naruto is sticking everything out for me this week, I let him have it and pretend I can stand his shitty hip-hop as we make our way further and further into the country.

Two hours later, and Naruto is getting his first view of the place I used to call home every winter break.

“This shit is huge!” He exclaims.  “Is that a jacuzzi on the balcony?”

I roll my eyes.

“It’s really not that impressive.”

“Shut up, rich boy!  If I have to date you this week, I’m taking full advantage of the perks!”

I can’t roll my eyes any harder; they’ll pop out of my sockets.  I just snort and shut the engine off.

Within moments, a figure appears on the aforementioned balcony.  Long, black hair frames so many of the same features I share with him and my late father.  We even have the same trouble keeping our bangs out of the way.  He waves to us from the railing.  I open the door far enough to flip him the finger.

“Woa, your brother’s…intimidating,” Naruto says.  I can hear in his voice the hesitation coming creeping back.  I better get him into the house before he attempts to run all the way home.

“That’s putting it lightly,” I reply.

“What is it your family does again?”

“Private investigation.”

Naruto chokes on air.  “What?”

I pause on my way out of the car.  “What?”

“Your brother is a spy?” Naruto chokes out again.

“No?  He’s a PI.  That’s totally different.”

“And judging by the size of this house, a really good PI.”  I mean yes, but also, for the love of god, don’t read anything into it. Naruto’s fear is growing in his voice and in his eyes.  “Sasuke, won’t it only take him like, five minutes of internet research to realise we are both big, fat liars?  My instagram is not exactly rainbow pride flags and declaring my love for you or anything.”

I hate that my blush comes back in full force.  I also hate that we’re having this argument in full view of Itachi, who was already ready to come at us with a fine tooth comb.

“Your instagram is private,” I remind Naruto.  “And I’ve told him from the beginning to not go investigating your life.  Mostly to protect your privacy, but also for this very reason.”

Naruto grumbles.  “This shit just got so much harder.”

He throws his head back against the headrest, making a soft thunk.   He shuts his eyes, brows drawn together.  His anxiety is set in the shape of his mouth and his fists clenched in his lap.  Before I can tell him he doesn’t have to do this, that I’ll drive him back and face Itachi later, my door is flung the rest of the way open and a familiar blue head of hair pops into my line of sight.

“Well, well, well!  If it isn’t the happy couple!”

Fuck.

“Hey, Kisame,” I greet with about as much enthusiasm as either Naruto or I feel for this situation.

“Bit early for a lover’s quarrel, innit?”

Naruto laughs nervously beside me.

Kisame disappears to pop the boot and grab our bags.  I look at Naruto, who is doing a very good job of not looking at me.  Fantastic.  

“Naruto,” I say gently, “It’s okay if you want to-”

“Okay!” he shouts suddenly.  He wears a look of determination he wasn’t wearing before, eyes wide, blue and fixed on something I can’t see.  I’ve always envied his talent for being rid of any feelings he doesn’t want like it's as easy as cleaning out the fridge.  “Let’s do this!”

Then he’s pushing his own car door and practically leaping out of the car.  I hear a “Shit!  It’s cold!”, and after a few moments to reflect on how good of a friend he is, I follow him out.

“Shit!  It’s cold!” I repeat as a gust of wind hits me.

Naruto is helping Kisame with the bags while simultaneously introducing himself for real.  I attempt to take a bag from him.

“Nah, babe!  I got this!”

Babe?

We hadn’t agreed on any pet names.  And now that I think about it long enough, we haven’t agreed on much of anything.  The ‘absolutely no kissing’ was really the only boundary we set up.  In my honourable idea to not talk about it in case Naruto changed his mind, I’m realising now how badly we should have talked about it.

It’s fine.  I’m good with a pet name or two.  My rapidly beating heart will get used to it.

We make our way up the driveway, Naruto lugging our duffels, teeth chattering the whole way.

“How is it so cold and there’s still no snow?” he whines as we finally get inside.  The heat of the house is a welcomed greeting.

“We’re still too far down the mountain for that,” a voice says, cold and smooth as the owner descends the staircase.  “We might get some ice later in the week, but if you want any real cold weather, you’ll have to travel further up.”

Itachi Uchiha is a business man first and a family man second.  Or in my case, he’s always both.  I still hate how good it feels when he encompasses me in a hug.  Damn him.

“Welcome home, brother,” he says in my ear.

“This isn’t my home,” I reply, but I hug him back anyway.

“And this must be the man of the hour,” Itachi says when he pulls away, focusing now on Naruto completely.  “And do I finally get the honour of knowing the name of the man who is tasked with protecting my little brother’s heart?”

Gag me.

“Naruto!” Naruto takes it in good nature, clasping Itachi’s hand and shaking it.  “Naruto Uzumaki!”

“Uzumaki?” Itachi questions.  “Have I heard that somewhere before?”

Naruto shrugs, completely oblivious.  “Beats me!  I don’t know any of my family.”

A silence that could be construed as awkward takes up the room.

“Really?  Interesting.”  Itachi says, and means it.  I can see Naruto instantly regretting disclosing this fact, especially now knowing what Itachi does for a living.  What he created an empire doing.

“Well, ya know…maybe I’m lucky last?” His voice cracks.

“Naruto, this is Itachi,” I say, by way of changing the subject to anything else.  “And his assistant-slash-bodyguard-slash-whatever the fuck they do behind closed doors, Kisame.”

Kisame grins wide, flashing razor sharp teeth, and chuckles.

“Cool!” Naruto exclaims, and reaches out to shake Kisame’s hand too.

I should have known he’d be good at this.  He’d be good at leaping into this den of dogs like it’s nothing.  Naruto has an unquestionable ability to make friends out of whoever he meets, but I feel like he’s about to face his biggest challenge.  

“The others coming?” I ask.  There’s a definite hope in my voice that Itachi is about to turn around and say no.

“Yes, of course,” Itachi replies.  Dammit.  “Deidara and Sasori will be here tonight.  Nagato is arriving tomorrow morning-”

“You invited Pain?”

“He’s family, Sasuke.”

“He’s fucking weird, Itachi.”

“ -and Zetsu will arrive tomorrow afternoon.”

“If everyone is getting here tomorrow, why did you make a big deal out of telling me I had to be here today?”

Itachi only smiles.  It’s easy and humourless and to anyone else, handsome and calming.  To me, it just means he was always up to no good.

“To get to know your new beau out of the way of all those prying eyes, of course.”

I glance at Naruto, who is doing a great job of pretending like he isn’t officially realising just what he signed up for, none of it is good, and freaking the fuck out.

Forget appeasing Itachi and getting him off my back re: marriage; by the end of this, I’m going to be lucky to even keep Naruto as a friend.

There’s only one bed.

How did I forget that, obviously, there will only be one bed?

“Is this alright?” Itachi asks behind us as he follows us into one of the main guest rooms.  I thought he’d let me have my usual room, that’s fitted with just a king single, and give Naruto a cot in the corner to sleep on.  I was going to insist Naruto take the bed.  Itachi, in his own words, was having none of it, and allowed us one of the bigger rooms for our stay.  “I wouldn’t want you two love birds sleeping apart for so long.”

“Why do you have to be so creepy?” I snarl.  He only laughs.

“Well, get situated and come down stairs later.  We’ll give Naruto the tour.”

He leaves us alone, shutting the door behind him.

It’s so uncomfortably silent.  

“So…uh…”

“I’ll take the floor,” I say immediately.

Naruto fixes wide eyes on me.  “Wha-  You don’t have to do that.”

“This weekend is already shit enough for the both of us; I don’t need you losing sleep because of it.”

“Yeah, but we could just-”

“Anyway,” I interrupt, terrified of what he was going to say next.  “We should unpack, because once the others get here, Itachi will expect us to be present in polite company.”

I can’t help the sneer that leaves my voice at the mention of the others, but I move to start unpacking anyway.  If I know Naruto (and I do) he’d live out of his duffle bag for the duration of his stay.  So I start unpacking for him, too.

“Your brother is so commanding.  It’s like he takes up the whole room as soon as he walks into it,” Naruto says.  He’s moved across the room to look over the knickknacks gathered across the bookshelf.  All of them are decorative; none of them have any sentimental value.

“I think he gets it from dad, and I don’t think it’s something you can just learn.  He and dad used to fight just as much as they used to bond.”

I don’t realise I’ve said too much until I’ve said too much.  I keep my eyes steadfastly focused on unruffling Naruto’s one, good dress sweater I made him pack.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your parents,” Naruto says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t make it a habit,” I reply.

“Is it hard?”

I turn to him now, and see the blazing curiosity in his eyes.  Yes, Naruto doesn’t have parents either, but he also never knew them.  He doesn’t have much frame of reference when it comes to mourning, and despite how young I was when the accident happened, I still have vague shapes and sounds that resemble the memories I have with my own parents.

“Yes,” I answer honestly.  “It’s very hard.  It tends to make me angry.”

Naruto chuckles.  “Yeah, I noticed.  This is also the only time you haven’t gotten pissy while talking about your family.”

I huff and move on to unpack my own clothes.  A quiet chime falls from Naruto’s pocket, and he brings it out to check the notification.

“Oh, right,” he says.  “I’ve got to try ringing her again.”

I make a face, then quickly hide it.  It’s so easy to forget Naruto is emotionally taken, even if not physically so.  He still hasn’t given up the chase.  She only answers his calls to tell him to stop calling, like a spoiled child.  If Naruto rang me every day just to say ‘hi’, ‘how are you’ and ‘I love you’, I’d deck anyone who got in my way of answering that call.

“You have a reminder on your phone for that?” I ask instead, ignoring the squeezing in my chest that never really goes away when Naruto’s girlfriend comes up.

“You know I’d forget my feet if they weren’t attached to me!”

“Sometimes I think you forget them anyway,” I reply.  He pokes his tongue out at me before heading into the ensuite to try his ex.  

When he’s gone, I let myself make as many faces as I want.

When we exit the room and make our way downstairs, Itachi doesn’t waste any time commanding our attention.

Just when I think Naruto’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any bigger, they seem to swallow his face as he twists his head every which way Itachi points as he rattles off the history of the house, right down to how the Uchiha clan won the wood for the third structural beam from the left in a duel against the clan across the river something-hundred years ago.  When will he realise this shit is only impressive to investors and his country club bumpkins?  Naruto’s attention is rapt, however, despite him not really taking in any of the information.  

He seems to enjoy the tour though, and finds the house huge and wondrous.

The sun begins to set over the valley, and just as we make it to the back deck, there’s a commotion from the front.  Loud yelling.  A lot of banging.  Naruto gives me a concerned look, and I only meet it with my own tired expression like I’ve been here before, and I’ve come to expect this.

Because I have and I do.

“You’re shitting me?” Comes a voice I hate that I recognise.  “It does not!”

“It does,” comes a much more calm but twice as insistent voice.

“You’re fucking crazy!”

Itachi chuckles as the voices grow louder and louder.

“Deidara.  Sasori.”  Itachi calls.  “Please.  We don’t have neighbours but we do have guests.”

Deidara, in sweats and a sleeveless shirt, strolls onto the deck.  Sasori follows him, in black jeans and a t-shirt.  Neither look dressed for mountain-side, cabin vacationing but I also know neither of them care.

“Oh, is this the little one’s little one?” Deidara asks, walking right up to Naruto.  I shove myself between them instantly.

“This is Naruto,” I say.  “My boyfriend.”

I can feel my voice catch on the word, still so foreign to me.  Knowing how uncomfortable Naruto is in this situation doesn’t help.

“Hey!” Naruto gives them a friendly wave.  Then his eyes flick between me and him and me and Sasori and me again.  I cock an eyebrow.  “You guys don’t share much resemblance.”

Deidara starts laughing.

I shoot him a glare.

“I’m not actually related to these idiots by blood,” I clarify.  “Thank god.”

“Oh c’mon, Sasuke!  Don’t be like that!” Deidara reaches up to ruffle my hair and I swat it away before he can try.  “We basically saw you in diapers!  I think we’re allowed to be family!”

“Not even in my grave,” I glower.

Deidara just keeps laughing.  Thankfully, Kisame chooses that moment to bring out a steaming dish of something that smells delicious.  Our stomachs growl simultaneously at the sight.

“So, when you call this a family reunion, you really mean…?” Naruto asks as we all sit down.

“It’s more of a reunion of the people we love, if we’re going to be specific,” Itachi answers.  “I know all of these men from college, and each were there for me during the darkest moment in my life.  Deidara and Sasori helped me with Sasuke when he was going through his rebellious phase.”

“Still am,” I grunt as I shove an entire roast potato into my mouth right off the serving dish.

“Kisame has been my partner since freshman year, when we were paired together for an economics assignment, and he hasn’t left my side since.”

“You’re fucking welcome.”

“And the others have helped in a variety of ways, from loaning me money or directly investing in Uchiha Investigations.  I owe them all.”

Naruto, like the sap he is, smiles at this.

“That’s kind of really cool.”

“You would think so,” I mutter.  Naruto looks at me, a question burning in his eyes.  I meet his look.

You’ll soon see, I mouth.

Naruto’s confusion doesn’t go away, but soon Deidara and Sasori have made themselves at home at the table and we start eating.  Admittedly, the food is really good.  I always eat well during this weekend, and drink even better.  Itachi is a collector of many things.  Ridiculously expensive alcohol being one of them.  He tries to keep it civil with some good, red wine but three bottles in between us all and we’re demanding the hard stuff.

The scotch burns in all the best ways as it goes down.

Naruto is having the time of his life.  Of course, being a previous frat boy himself, he gets along really well with them.  I have to keep telling myself that’s a good thing.  That if they like him, they’re less likely to go looking for holes in our relationship.  They’ll want it to be real.

“Okay, okay, enough!” Deidara is saying, sloshing his drink over the table and his words into the night.  “Naruto.  Sasuke.”  He addresses us with an almost alarming amount of seriousness for someone that drunk.  “Let’s get to the point.  How serious is this?”

I throw my head back and groan to the sky.  Kisame and Deidara immediately erupt into giggles.  

“Could we not, for five fucking minutes, talk about my relationship?” I ask.  My words are also sloshed.

“Why not?” Kisame demands.  “Now that you finally have one!  Itachi was about to go rogue if he didn’t hear of grandkids by Christmas.  I don’t know how none of us clocked you as a pansy before.”

My eyebrow twitches.  Here it comes.  I wish I had had the presence of mind before, when I was sober, to warn Naruto.  I didn’t mean to throw him into the deep end, and I now realise just how incredibly unprepared I am to fake this.

“Don’t call me that,” I say.  Plead.  It comes out a little watery.

“It makes sense,” Deidara tacks on.  “The nail polish.  The hair.  The jeans!”

“My style has nothing to do with my sexuality!”

Deidara just turns to giggle into Sasori’s shoulder.

“So what’s Naruto then?  Flavour of the week?” Kisame’s roar of laughter is ear splitting, teeth grating, headache inducing.  

Naruto is looking at me again, not with confusion, but with concern.

“Isn’t that what bis do?” Sasori asks, voice quiet and low, but I can tell from how glassy his eyes are that he’s just as drunk as the rest of them.  “Pass themselves around to what fits their needs.”

The implication of my sex life has me seeing red.

“It’s not really any of your business,” I snarl, glaring at him.  He simply shrugs, and downs the rest of his glass.

“‘Kay so, if you like both tits and dick,” Kisame starts, “Why choose the latter?  Why not make it easier on everyone and just date a girl?”

I’m so close to throwing myself across the table and strangling him, if it weren’t for the very real fact that he’s twice my size and has years of martial arts experience on me.  He’d flatten me in an instant.  He’s done it before.  Itachi didn’t do a thing to stop him then, and he wouldn’t now.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Naruto says, and I can hear in his voice how much he’s holding back.

“Can we stop talking about my sex life?” I cry.

“Why?  Does it still not exist?” Deidara rocks in his chair from his laughter.  

I bury my face in my hands and wish the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

“Sasuke?” Naruto whispers to me, but I can’t look at him.  

“Okay,” I say, standing up.  “You’ve all had enough.  We’re going to bed.”

I have to get him out of here.

“Oh, come on!” Deidara’s smile has turned evil.  Drunk and evil, what a mix.  “We’re just joking!”

I ignore him, tapping Naruto on the shoulder, gesturing he should follow me.  He hesitates, not wanting to be rude to his host, but begins to stand with me.

“Please, it’s fine,” Itachi is now saying.  He takes an extremely languid sip from his glass.  He’s clearly not as drunk as the rest of them, and is using that to his full advantage.  He loves having power over everyone in the room.  I was never an exception.  “It’s not all that serious anyway.”

This makes me pause in my quest to get the fuck out of here.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, glaring at Itachi across the table.

He shrugs.  “You told me so yourself.”

I want to kick him.  

“I said we’re not serious enough for marriage,” I almost scream.  “But we’re plenty serious.”

I glance at Naruto out of the corner of my eye.  He’s fidgeting, unsure of himself, what part he plays in this group of strange men.  Like how I’ve felt my whole life.

“Really?” Itachi asks.

“Yes!  Really!” I’m snapping now.  He’s got me drunk and wound up and irritated.  He just stares at me, pensively.  Have you ever hated a human being so much it hurts?  

“Sasuke, we both know you can’t possibly be serious about this man.  Or any man, for that matter.  Kisame has made a point; when the time comes, you’ll choose what’s right.”

My jaw falls open.  I feel Naruto tense beside me.

“We’re plenty serious!” I am screaming now, teeth gnashing.

Deidara, Sasori and Kisame have exploded into laughter.  Itachi just raises one, condescending eyebrow.

“Let’s just go to bed,” Naruto pleads, taking my arm and trying to herd me away.  I follow him.  Does he know I’d follow him to the ends of the earth?  I rub my entire face with my palm.  We’ve been here less than a day and they’ve already embarrassed me, worked me up and made me regret folding to Itachi’s plan.  

Like I always do.

“I hate him!” I’m still screaming, and I don’t care who hears.  I can still hear the four of them joking and laughing and drinking downstairs.  Separate from reality but have sucked me in with them.  I slam the bedroom door shut.

“Sasuke,” Naruto tries.

“What kind of sick fuck does he have to be to always undermine me like that?  In front of the guys?  In front of you?”

“Sasuke.”

“I know what you’re going to say!” I round on Naruto.  I instantly regret it.  “I’m the problem!  I’m the one making a scene and causing a fuss and I can’t take a joke and…”

I’m enveloped by Naruto’s arms.  They’re big and warm and strong, but I’m frozen inside.  He pulls me to his chest, all the way in, so I can hear his heartbeat, loud and sure.  It sounds so reassuring.  Like he’s the only one alive in this house.  

“Sasuke, I’m sorry,” he says into my ear.  I shiver.  I blame it on the alcohol.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” I scoff.  

He pulls away and I mourn the contact.  He’s not looking at me.  He’s looking at the space between us, head bowed, eyes sad.

“I don’t know what I assumed about your relationship with your brother,” he starts.  “Like I said, you don’t really talk about your family, and you get mad when I ask, but I don’t know…I always just figured it was some kind of friendly, family rivalry.  Brothers fight, right?  You’re meant to say ‘I hate you’ and ‘you’re annoying’ when talking about family.  Right?”

My breathing is becoming uneven.  So is his.

“I didn’t realise you were always so…tortured….here.”

I laugh.  I force myself to laugh.  “Please!  I’m not some pick me princess stuck in a young adult novel!  I can take care of myself.”

He doesn’t let me turn away.  “But do you always have to?”

I’m scared to look at him.  Naruto has always had an unquestionable talent to make me raw with him.  To break off pieces of armour I hadn’t even realised had formed.  It’s why we’ve been friends for as long as we have.  It’s why I’m so fucking in love with him.

“It’s easier,” I admit.

I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone before.  When I finally face him again, he’s wearing a sad smile.

“Look, I can’t do much about your brother or his dickhead friends, but I am your boyfriend for the weekend.  Imaginary or not, it’s a boyfriend’s job to protect his…other…boyfriend?”  He gives me a nervous laugh.  “That made way more sense in my head.”

His whiskers are dusted with a light shade of pink.  It’s adorable.  

“My point is!” He crosses his arms, stands up tall, the way he does when he’s about to announce something archaic yet, at the same time, completely true.  “I’ve been kind of half-assing this, and that’s not right of me.”

I shake my head.  “I’ve asked something impossible of you.”

“Nah!” he suddenly says.  “Hard?  Maybe.  Impossible?  For you?  Never!”

My heart is pounding in my chest, making my head throb and my vision swim.  

“I’m gonna be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had!  Starting right now!  We’ll show those dickwads who is serious about who, then Itachi won’t dream of marrying you off.  Then you’ll find someone you really do care about, the person of your dreams and we’ll announce we amicably split because I couldn’t compete, and they loved you so fiercely, I wouldn’t dare!”

I can’t help it.  I start laughing for real.  I’m clutching my stomach and bending over, the alcohol finally warming my blood in all the right ways.

“You’re ridiculous!” I tell him.  Naruto only grins wider.

“Ridiculously right, maybe!”

I’m still laughing, and Naruto joins me, until we’re both trying to keep the other upright with how hard the joy and happiness takes, leaving us breathless.

“C’mon,” he says through dying giggles.  “You need to sleep this off.”

My own laughter finally bubbles out, and I start to grab blankets and pillows to make a nest for myself on the floor, but Naruto yanks it out of my hands and throws it back on the bed.

“Take the bed.”

I scowl, but the good feeling from before doesn’t really go away.  It’s really hard to get rid of it around Naruto.  “We’ve already talked about this.”

“Yeah, when I was being a shit boyfriend!  Now I’m better.  Take the bed, Sasuke.”

If he keeps talking like that, I’m going to die of a heart attack on this mountain and no way is Itachi burying me on Uchiha ground.

“Fine, just for tonight,” I mutter.  “Tomorrow, we switch!”

I might have said that last part too loud because from the other side of our door bursts a new round of laughter from Deidara, who is sufficiently drunk enough he’s stumbling through the halls.

“Didn’t take you for a switch, little one!” he calls.  I feel so gross, my skin dances on my arms.  Sasori must be with him because there’s multiple sets of footsteps thundering down the hall before they finally taper out.

“He’s kind of a creep,” Naruto comments.

“They’re all creeps,” I agree.

After changing into sweats and a long shirt, cleaning up and crawling under the covers, I feel the night start to catch up to me.  The feeling of being so under Itachi’s control, even as far as I’ve escaped, sitting heavily in my stomach.  That could also be all the scotch I drank.  I try not to barf, reminding myself it’s only for a few days.  Then I get to go home and pretend I’m nothing like him and not part of this cursed clan they call family.

I hear Naruto softly snoring already from the floor.  He’s like a cat; he truly can sleep anywhere.  His declaration from before settles in my chest.  His grin.  His eyes.  His loud voice promising, not his protection, but his guidance.  His help.  For once, it’s not just me picking up the pieces of myself like I’ve always had to.

Do you always have to?

I look at him, in the dark of the room, sprawled out under the blankets, and feel for the first time I’ve ever been in this house, maybe I don’t have to do this alone.

The morning brings a new drop in temperature and with it, hangovers for every one of us.  Every one of us except Naruto, who isn’t where he was when I fell asleep.  I groan.  Hiccup.  Squint against the light snaking in between the curtains.  I roll over, bury my face in my pillow, and try not to throw up.

Unfortunately, I’m not hungover enough to forget last night.

Their terrible, ear grating laughter and the words that caused it.  The sting of every accusation and perverse comment lashing against my skin.  How weak I felt trying, again and again, to pretend like it doesn’t bother me.

The bedroom door swings open.

“Sasuke?  Sasuke!  Look!” Naruto begins the morning like how he begins everything; with shouting.  I groan again in response.  “No, seriously!  You have to get up!”

I roll over to look, only so I can work up the strength to punch him for being so damn loud.

Naruto is balancing a bag of something in one hand and a tray of extremely tall coffees in the other.  My eyes zero in on the paper cups, and I lick my lips.  Naruto settles the bag beside me on the bed before plucking a coffee cup out of the holder and handing it to me.

“Is this…?”

“All black.  Triple shot.  No sugar.  No cream.”

I love you.

I sit up slowly and take the most tentative of sips.  It’s still piping hot.  I don’t know how Naruto ran up the side of a mountain when it's negative degrees outside with all this in just basketball shorts, a singlet and a backwards baseball cap.  He’s some kind of god to me.

“How is it still hot?” I croak.  My voice scratches on the way out.

“Oh!  I heated it up downstairs.”

Thank god he’s distracted digging out whatever else he has in his magic bag of tricks, because I might have made some very embarrassing declarations right now.

“But look!”

Finally, Naruto brings out a box of scones.  They look fluffy and would probably also still be warm if Naruto didn’t insist on exercising for his breakfast.  I recognise the bakery logo on the box.  I remember going there a tonne when I was a kid.  I haven’t been back there since my parents died.

“And they gave me homemade butter!  For free!”

With how excited Naruto’s face is, it might as well be Christmas.  It makes me smile.  It fills my heart with a little bit of hot air and makes me feel a little bit lighter.

We eat scones with fresh butter in bed, and sip our coffees while I nurse my hangover.  Naruto is showing me photos of the village he took on his phone, exclaiming how picturesque it looks.  I have to admit, it’s been years since I’ve viewed this place in the way Naruto does now.  I used to love coming here on family vacations, ready to visit the bakery and the lighthouse and the ocean, even though it was always too cold to go swimming.

Sometimes my brother and I would sit out on the sand for hours, counting the wildlife we’d see in the surf.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, voice suddenly tight.  I blink, and realise my eyes have filled with tears.

I wipe them away.

“Yeah, sorry.  This bakery just brings back a lot of memories.”

Naruto goes pale.  “Shit, really?  I’m so sorry!  I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” I say, gently placing a hand on his forearm.  And I find it really is okay.  It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.  “Thanks, by the way.”  I tip my coffee to him.

Naruto slowly puts his smile back on his face.  “Figured you could use your devil drink to help with last night.  And to prepare for today.”

I slouch back into the pillows, under the covers of the bed, groaning.

“Right.  God dammit and there’ll be more of them now, too!”

For all that has happened already, Naruto laughs.  His phone goes off in his hand.  I don’t mean to spy, but I recognise the reminder notification flashing on his screen.

“Ah, right,” Naruto murmurs, staring at it.  

“How’s that going, by the way?” I ask, more out of a need to know if I’m running out of time with him, and not any real curiosity.

“Not well.”  Naruto scratches the back of his neck.   “She still doesn’t want to take my calls.  But she wants me to show her I really care.  How am I meant to do that if she won’t speak to me?”

My fingers tighten around the coffee in my hands.

“You’ll figure it out,” is all I can say.

Naruto makes a hacking cough, before sighing, swiping away the notification, and tossing his phone to the side.  I give him a confused look on the way to taking another sip.

“Don’t you have to call her?  Profess your undying love and all that.”  It hurts only a little to joke about.

Naruto has settled down beside me, smearing more butter onto a scone so it’s more butter than scone.  

“Nah!  I’ll call her later.”  He proceeds to stuff the whole thing in his mouth.

Once we’ve polished off the rest of the scones and pulled on clean clothes, we head downstairs.  It’s a little quiet in the house, eerily so, and it takes us both a minute to follow the commotion out toward the backyard.  When we step out, it’s to find Deidara and Itachi facing off against Kisame and Pain (who must have arrived while I was still passed out) in a game of basketball.

I feel Naruto twitch beside me.  His need to be moving and competitive overtaking his equal need to show his loyalty to me.

“Sasuke!” Pain calls.  He dribbles the ball while somehow still fending off Deidara.  “It’s been a while!”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer before shoving Deidara away and going for a dunk.

“Not long enough,” I mutter.  Naruto giggles beside me.  At least he thinks I’m funny.   “That’s Nagato, but he’s Pain to us,” I explain.

Naruto is rubbing the bridge of his nose while his eyes play dot-to-dot between Pain’s piercings.  “That’s such a cool nickname.”

Itachi taps in Sasori so he can join us on the porch instead.

“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.  It’s almost noon,” he says, instead of just a regular ‘good morning’.  Does everything have to be a criticism with him?

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I saw Naruto leave early; I thought he was running away.”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried!” Naruto announces.  He steps a little closer to me, the heat of him beside me makes me feel a little safer.  

“Naruto was bringing me breakfast,” I explain.  

“And didn’t think to share?” Itachi’s eyes are incredulous.  The nerve of him.

I open my mouth for a scathing retort along the lines of how much he doesn’t deserve a minute of Naruto’s kindness, but Naruto beats me to it.

“Oh, there’s plenty there!  The scones are in the oven if you guys wanna heat them up.”

I don’t mean to look so shocked at this.  It shouldn’t shock me that Naruto has gone above and beyond for people who wouldn’t dain to offer him even a kind smile.

“Did I hear scones?” Deidara appears, Pain behind him.  Again, none of them are very good at waiting for answers before they’re hurrying into the kitchen and inspecting the treats Naruto brought back.

Itachi sighs.  Like he’s annoyed.  Like he wasn’t expecting this.  I let myself feel a little smug.

“Well, while they’re stuffing their faces, you should join us for a game.”

I want to say no.  I want to say fuck no.   Usually when I’m here, I only show my face long enough to make an appearance at dinner, because Itachi would make me even if I were maimed and dying at the end of the driveway.  

I can feel Naruto tense beside me.  How badly he wants to join in.  To him, it’s still just a game.  To me, it’s twenty-six years of hazing.

“Fine.  We’ll join.”

I ignore Naruto’s look of elation.  At least making him happy makes me happy.  Gag me, this shit is for saps.

The day continues much like that.  We play basketball for as long as my body will let me (it would be longer but my limit means Naruto’s limit), and between us, we even scrape through with a few wins.  Having Naruto here seems to put everyone on their best behaviour.  They seem to like him enough, and approve of his rowdy, flamboyant personality.

I get an eyeful of Naruto’s abs when he picks up the hem of his shirt to wipe the chilled sweat from his brow, Deidara snickering at me when he catches me staring.

Whatever sells it, I guess.

Basketball turns into a game of cards on the deck.  Sasori and Deidara screaming profanities at each other, at least, is predictable and has nothing to do with us, so we’re happy to let them while we cheat and trade each other cards to get a better hand.  Kisame still cleans us all out.

Zetsu shows up and he seems to hone in on Naruto almost immediately.  I can’t tell if he’s just trying to bother him on purpose or he’s really up to something.  I can’t discount the latter, and make sure there’s a generous distance between us and him at all times.

They ask Naruto about anything and everything they can think of.  It makes me nervous; this is when my lie could start to split and show through the cracks.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Itachi has a manilla folder full of eligible bachelorettes I’m meant to court taped to the underside of the table, ready to whip out the moment he deems our relationship unworthy.  

Yet Naruto is incredible.  He seems to have taken what he promised last night to the extreme.  He remembers what I said at the beginning; that something about our friendship means it’s easy for people to believe everything we’ve done up until now has been the basis of a great romance.  If we just strategically leave out the ‘just friends’ part.

This is when it starts to hurt; when I have to remind myself it’s fake.

“What is this ninja dojo I’ve heard so much about?” Itachi asks.  We’ve settled at the table again for burgers and beers.

Naruto’s face goes red.  He’s great at talking other people up, he’d compliment me until I was rotting in the ground, but when it comes to himself, he always falls short of words.  

“Think Chuck. E. Cheese but without the creepy, anthropomorphic mouse, terrible music and overpriced, stale pizza,” I cut in for him.  “And is actually fun.”

“So, it’s like a glorified playground?” Pain asks.

“But with more focus on discipline, martial arts and Japanese history,” Naruto explains.  “I was obsessed with ninjas when I was a kid.  I wanted to be one when I grew up.”

Everyone is focused with rapt fascination on Naruto, who is busy studying his chicken in hopes it will keep talking for him.

“And you have experience with this?” Itachi says.  Naruto nods.

“Kind of.  There’s this public school at the edge of town that lets me work there in the afternoon, teaching karate as part of their after school program,” Naruto starts.  

“Voluntarily,” I say.  “He doesn’t get paid a dime.”

“They can’t afford to pay someone!”

“He was assigned there on his teacher’s placement and then he never left.”

Naruto is blushing from the tips of his whiskers to the roots of his hair.  “Well, it’s not like I had many role models growing up either.  I see these poor kids with absent parents or no parents at all, who have a history of causing trouble because they figure it's the only way they can get anyone to look at them, and then I show them that being angry doesn’t mean they can’t also be productive.  And I guess I kind of just rub off on them.”

“You definitely rub off on them.”  Hyping up your boyfriend (even your fake boyfriend) might be for saps, but at least I excel at it.  “Their teachers say they act up way less in class, do their homework, stop picking fights with the other kids.”

Naruto laughs nervously.

It’s not hard to pretend I’m so proud of him, because I am.  I went to college to get a degree so I could make money and get out from under Itachi’s foot.  Naruto worked two jobs the whole time, could barely afford to live most weeks, but would still keep going back to help the school if it meant one less kid growing up to make trouble on the street.

“I just think it’d be kind of cool to do that full time,” he continues.  “Like a daycare, but the kids are getting something out of it besides shoving marbles up their noses.  There’s a lot of mental energy that goes into martial arts as well,” he accentuates this by slamming his fist into his palm.  “So it’ll tucker them out and mean they’ll make less trouble when they go back to their parents.  And if the parents are happy, they’ll keep wanting to bring the kids back!”

I reach out and rub his shoulder.  It’s probably the most intimate way I’ve ever touched him before.  I figure it’s allowed, considering the circumstances.  Naruto cups my hand where my palm is splayed over his arm, and he gives me a grateful smile.

Deidara starts laughing.  “That’s so fucking cheesy!” 

Kisame snorts into his palm.  Pain and Sasori are doing a terrible job of hiding their amusement, their shaking shoulders betraying them.  

I look at Itachi, who only raises an eyebrow at me, and shrugs.  

Like I should have expected this.  Like it’s what I deserve.  Like it’s the same fucking thing again and again and again.

I don’t care about me, but no one deserves this less than Naruto.

“Ah, yeah, I guess it is kind of stupid,” Naruto comments, quietly, afraid even of his acquiescence proving a weapon in the mouths of these assholes.

“Sorry, mate,” Kisame starts, sounding very much not sorry.  “I know you’re just tryna impress Itachi, but that’s a lot!  ‘Oh, I teach underprivileged kids the values of harnessing their anger!’”   

“‘Oh, what’s that,’” Deidara joins in. “‘I volunteer to babysit so maybe they won’t end up as poor as me!’”  

They keep laughing.  Itachi doesn’t look amused, just annoyed and tired.

At me.  At us.

“C’mon man!” Kisame claps Naruto on his other shoulder.  “No one likes a suck up!”

I slowly fill with rage behind my half-eaten lunch.  Do they even know how incapable Naruto is of sucking up?  He’d never waste his own time.  If he wants to pay attention to you, it’s because he’s seen something inside, something you haven’t seen yourself.  Something he wants to be around.  

“It’s not like that,” Naruto tries, but Deidara is snorting into his plate.  Charming as he always is.

“This has nothing to do with you,” I say, aiming it at Itachi.  I squeeze Naruto’s shoulder tighter.  Itachi just shrugs.

“Naruto, speaking of someone who’s been in business a long time, there doesn’t sound like there’s a lot of profit in this venture.”

I go to spit something but Naruto stops me.

“I’m not doing it for profit,” Naruto says, barely loud enough for anyone to hear now that Pain has joined the other’s mockery.  I hate how Naruto sounds, like how I always feel at these meals; he sounds so small.

Itachi raises one, condescending eyebrow.  “Then what is there left to gain from this?  It’s not like there’s a lot of stability in good deeds.”

I stand up and grab Naruto’s hand, and for the second meal with this house of horrors, we ditch.  

“Not everyone is as obsessed with status and wealth as you, Itachi,” I say over my shoulder.

Naruto doesn’t hesitate to follow me this time.

We walk to the edge of the grounds, to the sea of trees and disappear amongst the roots.  Our footsteps are heavy.  Our breathing is loud.  We’re still holding hands.  I pretend not to notice.  I’m hoping if I don’t notice, Naruto won’t notice, and he won’t let go.  When I chance a glance at his face though, I can’t help but squeeze harder.

I’ll make them pay for the ring of red they put around Naruto’s baby, blue eyes.

“Geez,” Naruto mutters, wiping his face with his sleeve, hoping to hide them from me, but I can hear it in his voice. 

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, so quietly I don’t think he hears me over the whistle of the wind.

“Nah!  Don’t be.”  Naruto sniffs.  “You had it way worse last night.”

I squeeze his hand again.

“It’s not about who has it worse; it's about how they’re all a bunch of dicks.  I just thought they’d only ever go for me.  Ya know, to be polite?  I didn’t think they’d go for you, too.”

We’re both quiet as we walk.  We just keep walking.  I know I’ve ventured deep into these trees before, trying to escape my grief and my trauma and later, when those things took on a physical form, my brother.

“Sasuke,” Naruto starts softly.  I hum so he knows I’m listening.  “Why do you keep coming here?”

I grit my teeth together.  

“I mean,” he continues.  “Every year you always come back from here, and are depressed as shit for like a whole week.  Then you brush it off and pretend like nothing happened.  But…they’re horrible to you.  Your brother is an asshole.  His friends are creepy and perverse.  You keep calling this a family reunion, but I don’t see a family here.”

I clench my jaw harder.  It’s beginning to hurt.

“I can’t explain it,” I finally reply.  “It’s like some deep-seeded obligation to keep coming back; to keep showing Itachi we’re still brothers.”

We’ve stopped walking, and Naruto is giving me his full attention.

“I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not the only one who lost our parents.  I’m not the only one who had to pick themselves up and get on with life while carrying the family name.  Sometimes I believe Itachi had it worse.  Trying to provide for me, fighting to stay on the board of the company my father literally founded, all while dealing with my piss poor attitude and neglect.”

Naruto leans against a tree trunk, still listening, but I can see it in his eyes.  He’s still searching for a reason I haven’t supplied.

“I guess I owe him.  Maybe not for money, or for raising me.  I just owe him because, as horrible as he is, we’re still blood.”

Naruto looks at me for a long time before sighing, long and low.  “That’s bullshit.”

I can’t help it.  I laugh.  “Yeah.  I know.  But it’s my bullshit.”

Naruto’s phone chimes.  He’s quick this time, to check his reminder and swipe it away.  It’s effectively broken the tension, popped the bubble, one ghost in the forest blown away for another.

“Naruto,” I start.  He grunts to let me know he’s listening.  “Why do you do that?”  He raises an eyebrow.  “I see you trying so hard to even remember her.  Do you even like her?”

His eyebrows twitch.  His eyelids flutter.  I can tell I’ve hit something Naruto has been trying not to think about.  To my surprise, he smiles.

“You know I’m annoying, right?”  I go to rebut this immediately.  “Nah, c’mon!  I’m a pain in the ass!  Everyone knows it.”

I want to keep arguing, but Naruto says it like it’s a fact.  And it is.  Naruto also says it like he’s long since accepted this facet of his life, and he’s chosen to love himself anyway.

“Well, when I got to college and started making friends, people who genuinely liked me and wanted to spend time with me, that was more than I ever thought I would get.  I didn’t ask for anything else.  Sure, I like girls and I like sex, but I wasn’t going to stress over never having a real date for valentines day or, I guess, someone who I’d meet the parents for.”

The irony is crystal fucking clear.

“Then she came along and didn’t just tolerate me, she liked me.  Don’t get me wrong, I like her too, but I dunno.”  He’s looking to the canopy, to the sky beyond the thick coating of branches above us, his focus so far away on something neither of us can see.  “It’s like, something inside me is saying this is my only chance.  Don’t fuck it up.”

I frown.  “Naruto, that’s bullshit.”

His eyes meet mine.  They’re a little sad, but then he grins wide in that way that he does when his eyes crinkle in the corners and his fangs are shiny and bright in front of me.  

“Yeah, but it’s my bullshit.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Itachi is dressed in a nice, clean shirt and jeans with his leather jacket hanging on a bar stool beside him.  He’s fiddling with his Hugo Boss watch and fixing me with a stare that I recognise all too well.  The one he’d give me before he dragged me into the bathroom by the collar, showered me while I hissed like a stray cat, then forced me into whatever uncomfortably, itchy suit I’d be forced to wear for a night of pleasing strange people my fourteen year old brain couldn’t care about.  For a night of sucking up.

“Look, the boys are sorry for this afternoon…”

“They are absolutely fucking not.”

“And we’d like to treat you both to a nice dinner.”

I blow my bangs out of my face with an irritated huff.  “Then get us take out and deliver it to our room.  We’re not leaving the house.”

Naruto is hiding upstairs and I’m done with pretending in front of Itachi.  He’ll never know Naruto isn’t really my boyfriend, but I’m not going to force Naruto to play nice to a man who he knew for barely a day and then in no uncertain terms, crushed his dreams.  Naruto doesn’t need that kind of rejection when he’s still trying to make up for a childhood full of it, especially when we’re not even truly dating.

“You could at least try to meet us halfway-”

“Fuck off.”

“-and give us another chance.”

“Fuck off and die.”

Itachi rolls his eyes.  “You are such a brat.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

We glare at each other over the kitchen island.  The kettle makes a noise behind me, boiled water at the ready.  

“Let’s go!” Deidara calls, waltzing into the room with his hair braided and his nails freshly polished, probably courtesy of Sasori.  And they give me shit for my style?  “I want to eat and drink while I’m still young and hot!”

“Dates way passed on that one,” I mutter, still focused on making our coffees.

Deidara looks ready to jump right into the fray before Itachi interrupts him.

“Either you come or I shut the power off and you can freeze.”

I pause where I was pouring water into Naruto’s mug.  “Are you actually kidding?”

“I’ll take the key to the fuse box and the generator.”

There’s a thousand arguments that form in my head.  That I’m not five anymore and he can’t punish me for not doing something he wants by taking away my toys.  That Naruto is actually real handsy with wood and flint and could probably start a fire even without the gas.  That he has a really fucking funny way of making it up to us for being an ass…by being an ass.

None of this gets past my mouth anyway, and a half hour later we’re in a rowdy bar situated deep in the heart of the village, nursing extremely large pints of beer and trying to guess what game the others are even playing with the dart board.

At least, for once, their attention is not on us.

I lean over to Naruto who, like always, looks like he’s making the most of the situation by taking giant bites out of his food.

“I’m sorry about this.  I owe you ramen and pork buns.”

“Hey, at least the steak is free!”

I’m amazed again at Naruto’s ability to see the good in literally anything.

Then the whole bar goes quiet, even our table, as the lights dim and someone steps up onto the mini stage, in front of a microphone.  Someone fiddles with a projector, and they’re swathed in what looks like a very cheap, very emulated version of-

“Oh no.”

“Sasuke!” Naruto calls excitedly, tugging on my shirt like I’m not right beside him, seeing it.  “Holy shit, they have karaoke!”

Deidara and Kisame are already hooting, demanding they go first.  Zetsu sits pensively, while he and Itachi whisper to each other.  Pain and Sasori sit pleasantly, just pleased to see the others so eager to embarrass themselves.

Naruto is still stretching out my shirt sleeve.

“Naruto, we can’t,” I try to stress, chancing a glance at Itachi and eyeing where Deidara and Kisame are making a beeline for the songbook.

“Sasuke, we have to!  It’s tradition!  When have we ever not done it when there’s karaoke around?”

Sasori leans over into my space.  “Excuse me, but what is it?”

“It is none of your business!”

Naruto has disappeared to join Deidara and Kisame, flicking through the pages of the songbook, and all I can do is pray and hope and cross every part of my body that-

“Sasuke!  They have it!” Naruto calls excitedly across the room.

Everyone left at the table is sniggering.

“Don’t tell me you have a duet?” Itachi asks, mirth back in his dark eyes.  

“It’s not a duet,” I try.  “It’s just a stupid thing we do, but we’re not-”

“Sasuke!” Naruto is calling again, racing back to the table.  The entire bar is enamoured with him.  I usually wouldn’t blame them but right now I want to throw the entire karaoke machine at his head. “I loaded it!  Either I do it by myself or we do it together!”

Both of those are not options!

“Naruto.”  I’m looking at him with what I hope is my best scathing look.  The one I usually save for the slow walkers on thin walkways.  “Naruto, think of where we are.  We can’t.”

“C’mon, Sasuke!  It’ll be fun!” Naruto says and slaps my shoulder.  Hard.

What the fuck?  I thought he was on my side?

Deidara and Kisame are already on stage screaming some version of Sweet Caroline.   I think.

“Look!  They’re doing it!”

Yeah, but, they also haven’t been the target of constant scrutiny and blazed criticism since they walked through the front door a day ago.

I shake my head.  “Naruto, I can’t.”

He looks upset, then like he’s going to argue with me, then realises something and just looks disappointed.

“Okay, okay.  You’re right.”

He sits back down beside me, hand placed on my knee so casually, it makes me double take.  He doesn’t look at me, just looks on in yearning at the next group of friends who stumble on stage to drunkenly belt out Somebody to Love.

I know our turn is coming up, and as the missed opportunity draws closer, my chest begins to fill with rage.  The group is back to ignoring us.  Apparently, it’s bully us until we implode in on ourselves, or isolate us completely.  Naruto’s hand remains firm on my leg, a powerful weight keeping me grounded.

And then I remember getting to college, knowing no one and, thinking, that’s how I liked it.  I remember Naruto being so eager to be friends, and I couldn’t understand why, so instead of trying to figure it out, I was cruel to him.  But he didn’t just take it, he dealt it back, and I couldn’t fathom someone who didn’t put up with my shit, let alone someone who threw it back in my face.

And I remember how satisfying it was.  To find someone who’d rather call me a dickhead to my face than cower in fear of the prestigious Uchiha name.  To find someone who would push me into a fountain because I insulted his clothes.  It’s so disorientating to find your equal, when you were so convinced you were all alone.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, shoving my chair back.

Naruto looks at me, bewildered, where I have his hand in my grasp and am tugging him toward the stage.

Fuck them.  Fuck Itachi and his friends and this fucking holiday he makes me come to just so he can feel like a big hotshot for bullying his brother for a few days.  Fuck them for then turning this same maliciousness on Naruto.  Fuck them for making me feel like I have to hide who I am, who I’ve become.

I’m tired of my every action being dictated by Itachi.  And yes, Itachi will hate what I’m about to do.  He’ll call me uncouth and unconventional, despite his friends doing the exact same thing.  It will be exceedingly satisfying, but it will be twice as fun to do this with Naruto.

For Naruto.

We both take a side of the stage, fully facing each other.  Naruto looks giddy, smile threatening to split his face in two.  I can feel the others looking on in wonder, with anticipation, just waiting for us to make fools of ourselves.

That’s fine.  Making a fool of myself is my favourite thing to do with him.

The words come on screen, and the both of us have this song down to an art, so know exactly when to lean into our microphones and scream across the bar.

“YOU ARE MY FRIEND!  AH-AH!”

Naruto’s singing voice is horrendous.   It’s off-key, high pitched, cracks in all the wrong places.

“YOU ARE MY DREAM!  AH-AH!”

But fuck, if it isn’t my favourite thing about him.

“THANK YOU MY FRIEND! AH-AH!”

I can hear the group hollering for us, laughing with us, but for once, I wouldn’t care even if they were laughing at us.  This is my thing with Naruto.  Something we’ve done at every bar with karaoke since we decided hey, maybe we are kind of friends.  

“I GO THE DISTANCE!”

The song fades away, but our ears are ringing with the cheering of the bar, helped along by Deidara and Kisame who think it’s equal parts hilarious and entertaining.  It’s warm under the spotlights, and we’re both out of breath.  Naruto is grinning at me.  His cheeks are flushed and there’s a line of sweat dripping down his temple.  I know I’m smiling back twice as wide.

“Just kiss him already!” Sasori calls.

Naruto’s face falls, just slightly, just enough.  My smile falters.  

We ignore them, and climb down off the stage for another couple trying to match our energy, though it just doesn’t have the same vibe with Adele.

The guys are kind of, dare I say it, nice about it when we get back to the table.  Kisame slaps Naruto’s back so hard he almost pitches forward into the plate of chicken wings someone ordered.  Deidara compliments our choice of song and our execution.  Itachi sits idly by, but I can see the hint of a smirk on his face.

The rest of the night is kind of fun.  A rare night where it doesn’t end with me embarrassed and storming off, wanting to skin my brother’s face off while he sleeps.  We share food and good humour and talk about a whole lot of nothing.  They include us in their game, which I still don’t understand and I’m still not convinced is any version of darts.  Eventually, Deidara convinces Sasori to sing a surprisingly sweet rendition of Enchanted with him .  

Naruto leans against me, the entire length of our upper arms connected, whispering into my ear.  His warm breath brushes my cheek and makes me shiver.

“Is there something going on between those two I should know about?”

I look again, and it’s unmistakable, the look Deidara is giving Sasori under the tint of the blue light and the scrolling words across their faces from the projector.

I hide my smile behind my hand.

“If there is, we’re the first to know.”

Naruto chuckles, but doesn’t move back to his own space, still leaning firmly into mine.  I take his hand on the table, rubbing his knuckles with my thumb.  He squeezes the tips of my fingers.  I’m drunk.  I’m drunk and I’m warm and Naruto is drunk and warm beside me.  What I wouldn’t give to lean over and kiss his ear, run my hand down the neck of his shirt, play with the blonde strands at the base of his neck.

Oh fuck, I’m so drunk.

We drink well into the night.  We have to call taxis to get back to the house.  Sasori fends off Deidara’s wandering hands as Itachi struggles to open the front door.  They all go tumbling in.  Naruto has his arm thrown around me.  I think he’s forgotten where he is and what he’s doing, resorting to his old frat house ways of pulling me close when he gets overly drunk and overly friendly.  I love him like this.

I keep my hand on his belt, but I’m being tested by God every moment to not drift my hand lower.

We separate amongst ourselves.  I lose track of where everyone else goes, dragging Naruto up to our room and onto our balcony.  I deposit him onto the couch.  He bounces in the cushions, laughing the whole time.

“Sasuke!” He calls, drunk and loud.  “Sit with me!”

“I’m lighting the fire!” Thankfully, even with my vision blurry and my hands shaking, I get the fire lit and drag out the blankets we keep for outdoors, throwing one over him and keeping one for myself.  But as soon as I’m settled, Naruto has forsaken his own blanket to crawl under mine and forces me to share.

I certainly don’t hate it, but I might find myself with a particular problem if Naruto keeps rubbing his nose into my neck like he is.

“You smell so good!” he croons.  I’m bright, fucking red hot.

“C’mon, you moron,” I try to push him off, but he comes right back like a starving cat, except now his arms are wound around me.  I want to scream.

Out of frustration or happiness, I’m too drunk to determine.

“This was so fun!” Naruto says.  “You’re so fun!”

I sigh, pulling the blanket around the both of us.  Naruto has finally stilled, but his whole face is shoved against my collarbone.  I take the opportunity to put my arm around him, playing with those too long hairs at the base of his neck.

“I would just date you if I could,” he says.  Out of nowhere.  Like he just hasn’t turned my world upside down.  Like he hasn’t just simultaneously filled me with elation and broken my heart.

“Fuck off, you’re not even into guys,” I say, rather bitterly.

“I dunno!” Naruto says, chipper as ever.  “I’ve never really tried!  I could be into guys!”

I’m trying so hard not to hold onto this hope with a death-like grip.  He’s drunk.  He’s drunk and he has it in his head that this is kind of real.  

“Naruto,” I say, a warning in my voice.

“C’mon!  Let’s try!”  He sits up, suddenly determined, facing me with intent in his eyes.

I’m losing my mind.

“Naruto,” I try again, my voice much firmer, deeper, threatening.  “Don’t with me right now.”

He hesitates.  I’ve finally gotten through his scrambled brain, so he can remember he’s not into guys.  He’s just drunk and overly affectionate and is carrying a little heartbreak of his own.

“Oh, right.  Sorry.”  He sits up straight, but I can tell he’s doing it with great effort.  “Kind of shit of me to assume you want to kiss me just ‘cause you like guys.”

He doesn’t know the half of it.

“It’s not that,” I say carefully.  He can’t know.  He can never know the half of it.  “But you’re drunk off your ass and not making sound decisions right now.”

“Ah-ha!  So you’d kiss me if I was sober?”

I’d kiss him if he was dead.

I roll my eyes instead.  There’s a silence that stretches across us, our bodies still pressed together under the one blanket.

“How’d you figure it out, anyway?  That you like guys as well as girls?”

The ‘as well’ sits in my stomach and festers with the alcohol running in my veins.  It makes me brave.  It makes me stupid.

“Because I don’t like girls at all.”  It makes me confess secrets I was meant to go to my grave with.  I can feel Naruto’s eyes on me, big and blue and filled with drunken confusion.

“Has bisexual changed since I last knew it?” 

I know he means it as a joke, but I’m sullen and tired, and don’t look at him when I shake my head.

“I’m not bisexual.  I’m gay.  I have been since I found myself feeling more excited for the showers after swim practice than swim practice itself.”

It’s silent except for the wind that blows across our little pocket of the universe, chilling us both to our bones.

“Why does everyone think you’re bi then?”

I sit with the question for maybe longer than I should.  I sit with it for so long, it grows and grows between us until I can’t stand to look at my hands anymore, or even be a part of my body, but the only way to escape is to answer.

“Because it’s easier.”

One of Naruto’s infamous “Huh?”s leaves him in a grating cry.

“I never told Itachi I was anything; I just told him I was dating you, and figured he’d figure out the rest.  But he assumed, like Kisame inferred, I can choose, and I’m just choosing the wrong thing to spite him.  It still got him off my back and bought me some time, so I just went with it.”

“But everyone thinks you're bisexual?”

I shrug under the blanket.  “I don’t really care.  Labels are stupid anyway.”

I know he can see it on my face.  I know he can tell how much I care and how it’s eaten at me every day of my life.  

“When I got to college, I didn’t have anyone.  No one asked who I was into.  No one cared, but it was a superficial kind of not caring.  Like they only didn’t care because they got something in exchange.  They just heard ‘Uchiha’ and assumed I was either going to be their new, rich best friend or I’d unearth the skeletons they hide in their closet.”  I sigh, and it’s a little wobbly and a little wet.  “Then I had you, and of all the things I didn’t want you to hate me for, liking guys was top of the list.  You were such a stereotypical jock, I thought you’d learn I liked guys, assumed I wanted in your pants, and deck me.  So I just let you think I was bisexual, because I figured if you thought there was a shred of me that still liked girls, you’d think I was a little bit normal, and you’d still want to be my friend.”

“Sasuke…”  He sounds sad.  He sounds like he feels sorry for me.  I expect him to deny it.  I expect him to say he’d never punch me or judge me for who I was into.  I expect him to be a little angry I thought of him like that at all.  I keep going before I lose my nerve.

“Then I met everyone else, I made more friends I really cared about, and I didn’t want them to hate me either.  I never dated anyway.  A few hook ups when I felt like it, but nothing serious, so it’s not like I ever gave myself the chance to correct anyone.”  I shrug, expecting that to be the end of it, but when I open my mouth on a sigh, even more comes out.  “Itachi will never accept it.  He thinks I’m only dating you to spite him or get out of marriage.  He thinks I’m doing it as a prank.  Everything about my life revolves around him.  Nothing can ever be about me.  Not my career.  Not my money.  Not the person I love.”

He’s quiet beside me, contemplating all I’ve just said.  What it means for me, and how it changes his view of me as a person.  Exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

“Sasuke,” he starts, carefully.  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but Gaara is as gay as a spring fresh daisy.”

I snort.

“He always wore his sexuality unapologetically, it’s not like he was too chicken shit to come out earlier.  For me, it’s too late.”

“What do you mean ‘too late’?”

I tilt my head and look at Naruto, slightly annoyed, a little bit pained.  He only meets my gaze with the same look he always wears, with a challenge in his eyes.

“C’mon, Naruto.  I’m twenty-six.  I think my coming out has gone past its best before date.”

Naruto makes a noise in the back of his throat.  “I’m not even anything, and even I know that’s bullshit.  Ino came out, like, last year!”

“Yeah but-”

“And Hinata told us she’s trans two months ago!”

“That wasn’t a surprise to any of us.  We were all just waiting for her to tell us when she was ready.”

“And you can do the same!  Just tell us when you’re ready.  Shit, Sasuke, we’d all die for you.  I don’t think a little shift in who you prefer to date is gonna scare us off.  Your pissy attitude certainly hasn’t.”

I can’t help it; I laugh.  I laugh harder than I have in years.  Naruto snickers, and then he’s laughing too, with his whole body.

“Yeah, of course it all makes sense coming from the one guy who never makes sense of anything!”

He punches me.  “Fuck you, I make plenty sense!”

We erupt into a fresh load of snorts and guffaws.  There are tears in my eyes, I’m laughing so hard.  They bead in my eyes and roll down my cheeks, taking over my lungs and changing the shape of my shoulders with deep, inescapable sobs.

To my surprise, Naruto winds his arms tighter around me, pulling me into a deep, warm hug.  His hand is in my hair, woven through the strands, holding me so gently, but I might just break anyway.  “Stop thinking you have to do it all alone.”

Oh fuck him for making me cry.

But I do.  Long and low and heart racking sobs into the shoulder of his jacket.  He rubs my back and holds me tighter, and just lets me feel twenty-six years of pent up feelings I’ve never dredged up, or let beyond the gate in my head.

They come out full force, and the only one who is strong enough to hold them all is Naruto.

We’re lying in bed, side by side, facing each other.  I finally stopped crying, but now my eyes are dry and my throat hurts.  I haven’t brushed my teeth either.  I probably look foul.

“I’ll do it,” I whisper softly, into the dark of the room where all our other secrets are waiting.

Naruto hums, slowly drifting off beside me.

“I’ll kiss you.  I mean, if you really want to know if you like guys.”

He opens his eyes to fix me with the warmest of smiles.

“You’re a pretty good friend, Sasuke.”

I inch close across the mattress so we share the same pillow.  His eyes are wide now, darting between my lips and my brow.  He won’t look me in the eye.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he attempts, but his voice cracks.  He clears his throat.  “Yeah!  I’m just…”  He’s about to change his mind and I’m about to die of embarrassment.  “I’m just remembering how beautiful you are.”

Thank god it’s dark and he can’t see the full blush creeping up my chest and taking over my face.

“Fuck off and die,” I whisper, before I press my lips to his.

When I open my eyes again, the room is deliriously bright.  We forgot to shut the curtains last night, or even the balcony doors for that matter.  It’s too bright and fucking freezing.  I scramble out of bed to shut the doors, but the damage is done.  My vision is swimming, my head is pounding.  I‘m going to throw up in my mouth because I can’t make it to the bathroom.

I stand with this feeling for a bit, letting memories of last night come back to me in flashes of blue tints, loud laughter, cold tears and…

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck shit.

“Naruto.”

I whirl around, have to hold my mouth or I’m in danger of throwing up again, and when my vision clears, see Naruto isn’t in bed.  It’ll be just my luck he hasn’t ditched to get home early.  I take comfort knowing his bag is still here, along with his coat and his runners.  I don’t hear him in the bathroom.

Carefully, I make my way downstairs.  As I descend, I begin to hear more people in the kitchen.  I stop half-way down and begin to pick out their voices.

“I’m going to throw up.”  Deidara.

“That’s what you get.”  Sasori.

“We told you not to mix drinks.  It’s a total myth that it prevents hangovers.”  Pain.

“Honestly, where did you even hear that nonsense?”  Itachi.

Okay, but where is-

“I dunno know if it’s the beer or the five pounds of spicy chicken wings that’s going to kill you first.”

Naruto.

I shuffle down the rest of the way, peering around the corner, and almost drop my jaw at the sight of Naruto hard at work over the stove, flipping pancakes while simultaneously mixing more batter.  Sasori and Zetsu already have plates in front of them.  Itachi is cutting fruit.

What the fuck kind of domestic hellscape did I wake up in?

“If it ain’t the boy wonder!” Kisame calls, spotting me.

Dammit.

I make my way into the room, carefully, like a cat with canary feathers stuck to his chin.  My anxiety is not a good mix with my hangover, but Naruto whirls around without hesitation, batter flying from his spoon, and his face lights up at the sight of me.

“Sasuke!” he calls, abandoning the stove instantly.  Itachi takes over before the house catches on fire.

Naruto wraps me in his arms.  Despite how warm he is, I freeze.  

“You just as dead inside as the rest of them?” I can feel his grin against my hair.

Does he not remember?  Does he not remember, at all, the extremely intense make out session we had last night?  Does he not remember how desperately I clung to him?  How tight he held me back?  How hard I got in my pants before he let me grind against him until I was moaning into his mouth?  Does he not remember my fingers slipping down the hem of his shorts where I was elated to find his own erection?  Does he not remember how fast he came in my hands when I stroked him readily, eagerly, revealing how hungry I’d been for him this whole time?

Did he forget all that in his haze of booze and experimental fuss?

Or worse…is he pretending like it didn’t happen?

Before I can answer, before I can grit out a response that won’t totally give away how fucking terrified I am, he kisses me.

A peck.  Warm and sweet, but lingering, on the corner of my mouth.  My heart stops in my chest.  When he pulls away, his face is steady.  Certain.  Happy.  

What’s his fucking game?

“Come have breakfast with us!”

“Sasuke!  You can keep him if he’s gonna cook like this everytime!” Deidara shouts through a mouthful of pancake, maple syrup dribbling down his chin.

“He was awake again before you,” Itachi explains.  The batter is finished and he’s turning off the stove and bringing the last of the pancakes to the kitchen island.  “Went out to get fresh berries and everything.  I think he’s in danger of living here.”

I look, bewildered, to Naruto for confirmation.  He just grins.

“Am I a good boyfriend or what?” Then he cups a hand to the side of his mouth, voice dropping to a whisper.  “I think your brother is finally starting to like me.”

And I get it.

He’s still playing this game.  It doesn’t matter whether he remembers last night or not.  It was just a kiss.  And tongue.  And mutual hand jobs.  It’s not like I cracked him open and changed what’s inside.  Naruto is Naruto, unflinchingly loyal and obsessively determined.

And we still have an act to put on.

We’ve got one more day here, before we can leave tomorrow and get back to our old lives.  Where Naruto can go back to being his usual, straight self, attempting to win his girlfriend back who he’s convinced is the only one who will ever love him.  I couldn’t tell him last night how wrong he is.

But if I have to act like we’re in love, and I have to act like I’m not breaking my own heart, I get something out of it.

“Yeah,” I reply, twisting my fingers in his shirt.  “You’re the best.”

I pull him down, slam my lips to his, and find it’s very easy to ignore the cries of disgust from our audience as Naruto leans fully into me.

The last day is always a snow day.  We’ll split into two cars, make our way up the mountain with snowboarding gear and spare clothes filling up the backs.  The others have bought their own gear and lodged it at the house over the years.  I lend Naruto my old set of boots, gloves and goggles.

“I haven’t been snowboarding in years!” Naruto exclaims excitedly as we stand beside Kisame’s range rover.  The others are going to take Pain’s.

I admit, I’m in a much better mood than I have been previously.  Naruto hasn’t left my side all morning, and it’s easier than ever to pretend this act is our version of normal.

Itachi appears out of the shadows, startling us both, and clutches my shoulder.

“Naruto, there’s a space left with Pain.  You don’t mind taking it.” 

I look at him fearfully.  That definitely wasn’t an offer, but I loathe Itachi throwing Naruto into a steel trap of wolves.  Naruto can take care of himself just fine, but I’m not naive enough to think the ride will be filled with merely friendly banter and some innocent jokes at Naruto’s expense.

“Oh.  Sure.”  Naruto agrees, like it’s a script.

I kiss his cheek for good luck and watch him walk away to spend an hour alone with Deidara, Sasori and Pain.

Itachi gestures at me and I get into the car with him, Kisame and Zetsu.

The first moments are spent in a relatively uncomfortable silence.  Zetsu sits as quietly as he always does.  Kisame is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along with the tunes wafting off his phone.  Itachi and I sit in the back.  I’m waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

“So when are you going to just admit Naruto is only a way to get back at me?”

There it is.

“What are you on about now?” I ask irritably.

“You don’t actually care for that boy,” Itachi says, again, without the question of it.  “And it was entertaining at first to see you bring back someone so…”  He waves his hand.

“Different,” Zetsu gives.

“Insane,” Kisame pipes up.

“Yes,” Itachi says.  “That.  Sasuke, you’re not sixteen anymore, and bringing home someone I’d clearly not approve of just to spite me isn’t a way to get attention anymore like you think it is.  Why don’t you just admit there’s no future with him, and we can end this weekend on a peaceful note?”

I don’t know what it is about his words.  Maybe it’s the turn of events of last night, or maybe some of what Itachi says is right.  I’m not sixteen anymore, and I’ve long since stopped fighting for Itachi’s attention.  I don’t need it, when I have friends like Naruto who will guard me no matter what.  And all the others, who learnt facets of myself I hoped to never show, and still cared for me anyway. 

What Itachi says no longer bothers me.

For the first time in years, I can finally admit this to myself and believe it: Itachi has no power over me.

“You’re wrong.”  

Itachi looks surprised.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look surprised.  He lives on calculations and carefully planned moves in every day of his life.  Sounds exhausting to me, but it means I can so rarely surprise him.  Until now.

“I do love him,” I say, with so much conviction and force in my voice it surprises even me.  “I’m not doing this to spite you.  I could actually care less what you think of Naruto or my relationship with him.  I invited him this weekend because you were so insistent on meeting him, and it’s not like I ever thought you’d be nice to him, but he came anyway.”

“Sasuke,” Itachi spits my name.  “He’s not-”

“He’s not Uchiha material,” I finish for him.  “I know.  And sure, maybe that's a reason I love him, but it’s not the reason.  You will never ascertain what the reason is, because you couldn’t understand.  You never will, because you’ll never try.”

Kisame gives a low whistle in the driver’s seat.  The music has been turned off.

“Sasuke, think about your future.  If you think to bring this boy home next year, if you think to continue this diatribe of putting off finding a wife, I’ll cut you off.”

I bark a laugh.  “I cut myself off years ago, Itachi.  Have you not noticed?  My trust account has sat untouched for months, though it’s raked in some handsome interest.  If you want it though, it’s yours.  The only reason I keep coming back is for the very reason you keep looping around my neck like a noose ready to tighten; we’re family.”

The car pulls up to the ski lodge.  The others are already here.

I immediately open my door.

“Maybe you should start begging me to stay in the family, rather than threatening me.  Because if what you say is true and I’m not allowed to bring Naruto back next year, then this is my last year too.”

I jump down, my feet landing in fresh fallen snow, and walk away.

“You didn’t?” Naruto gapes at me, white teeth sparkling like the snow metres below our hanging feet.  “You said that?  To Itachi?”

I nod, unable to keep my own smug grin off my face.

“Do you want to know what the best part is?” I ask.

“I hope it’s the look on his face when you effectively dumped his ass.”

I scoff.  “Actually, it was that I could say all that, and mean it.”  Naruto’s grin widens.  “I’ve been telling him I’m not coming to this thing for years, saying I won’t attend Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter and whatever fucking holiday he drags me to.  But I kept coming back for the scraps of his attention I told myself I didn’t actually care about.”  I shrug.  “But now I finally believe myself.”

Naruto wraps his free arm around me and brings me into an awkward side hug.  It makes the chair lift swing dangerously and I clutch to him more out of fear of falling than in returning the hug.

But the hug is a nice touch.

“Fuck yeah, babe!”

Babe.   I glance over my shoulder.  Right.  Kisame has the chair lift behind us.  I hope the exclamation of excitement was carried backwards on the wind.

We reach the top of the mountain and head toward the slopes.  Naruto whines that he wants to try the hard ones.  I remind him he’s out of practice and he’ll have to drag his own ass down to the medical bay if he breaks his neck.  He whines more but follows me to the easier slopes to warm up.

But both of us pick up on it pretty quickly.  Our competitive nature towards one another comes out in full force, and we’re racing each other down the medium slopes by the afternoon.  I announce we have to take a break or my ass is going to freeze.

“C’mere!  I’ll warm it for you!” Naruto unzips his snow jacket, pulls me to his chest and wraps the front half around me.  It’s insanely warm in the coat with him, but I still shiver at being so close to him.  I spy the lingering looks of Deidara and Sasori in the reflection of his goggles.

We don’t join the others for dinner.  After cleaning ourselves up in our room and dressing in casual, warm sweaters and fitted jeans, we find a table in the warmly lit, lodge restaurant and order anything we want off the menu.

“I don’t know if I can afford this,” Naruto says, looking nervously at the prices.  “Even if we go dutch.”

“It’s on the Uchihas,” I say, before ordering an extremely fine, extremely expensive bottle of wine.  “We have an account here.  That Itachi pays.”

Naruto snorts.  “What happened to cutting yourself off?”

I grin, feeling a little naughty.  “Think of it as backpay.”

I’m careful with how much I drink this time.  Partly because I’ve already spent two mornings in a row nursing a hangover, but mostly so I won’t be tempted by Naruto and his tight, turtleneck sweater stretched across his ample bosom.

Okay.  Maybe I’m a little drunk already.

“Out of curiosity, what did the guys interrogate you about on the drive up?”

Naruto’s face flushes when he answers.  “‘What are your intentions with the little one?’” He says in a piss poor impersonation of Deidara.  “‘Don’t get him pregnant!’ ‘If you’re after his money, forget it!’”

We both peel into laughter.  We’re a little louder than we should be.

“And what were your answers?” I hope he can’t hear the tremble in my voice.

“I told them you were on the pill.”

I kick him under the table.

“Naruto!  Seriously!”

He just cackles.  “Don’t worry, don’t worry!  I just told them there’s nothing to worry about, that your shitty attitude wouldn’t be worth your wealth anyway,” he pauses to scratch the back of his head.  “And that I’m a little bit in love with you.”

I know my face is red.  I’m pale enough as it is, my dark hair a stark contrast to my skin, so every little blush shows up on my face like someone took a red, permanent marker to my cheeks.

“You’re hilarious.”

I tip my head back and swallow the rest of my wine.

We stumble into our room.  Room service has been here to fluff our pillows and light the fire.  There’s a faux fur rug lining the floor between the bed and the hearth, and I have a vision of lying Naruto down on its soft surface and showing him what being with a man can really be like.

I’m so drunk.

How did I let this happen again?

“One bed again!” Naruto calls excitedly, already dumping himself across the entire king size expanse of it.

I laugh this time, pulling off my sweater now that we’re tucked away safe in the warmth of the room.  Naruto whistles.  He’s staring at me.  Like, really staring at me.  

“What, moron?”

He sits up on his elbows, wine flush across his cheeks, and probably his chest if I could get that damn turtleneck off.  “You’re so hot.”

Oh, I’m too drunk for this.  I scoff.  

“I’m serious,” Naruto stands up, making his way over to me.  “You’ve got the chest of a model!  How come you only wear fitted stuff when it's too cold to see it?”

“Naruto,” I warn, but I don’t get much else out before he’s taking my jaw and kissing me, warm and soft.

He tastes awful, like the wine we just had and the duck he just finished, but I quickly wrap my arms around his neck and let him pull me close.  His kiss is more forceful than last night, when he was kind of unsure but still so eager, now he’s just eager.  It makes my toes curl and embarrassing noises escape from my throat.

I snap out of it momentarily when his hands go under my shirt, slowly lifting the fabric as his fingers trail up my spine.  I should stop him.  I should tell him he doesn’t need to do this, but when he presses his nose against my neck and fucking inhales against my skin, I go needy with want and repressed feelings.

I raise my arms above my head, and let him take my shirt off.

I’m laughing as we crash into the floor.  Those visions before of us sinning against the rug coming back in full force, like I’m some kind of pornographic clairvoyant.

“What?” Naruto asks, smiling against my jaw as he keeps kissing me.  I tilt my head, never wanting him to stop.  “What’s got you so happy?”

“Your hands on my ass are a good start,” I say.  I feel lighter, happier, than I have in ages.  Naruto is still figuring himself out.  He’s been through hell this week.  I tell myself the least I can do is get him off and let him enjoy himself tonight, and if I get to be the one to help, it’s a win-win.

“Yeah?” he asks, cheeky and ruddy with a goofy smile.  “Where else should I put my hands?  To make you happier?”

The images that flash through my mind.  I kiss him, moaning against his tongue.

“Literally, anywhere you want.”

Waking up tangled in the arms of a naked Naruto Uzumaki is a new one for me.  It’s a good one for me.  I twist my neck to look at his sleeping face, a little pout on his lips, hair already a mess from the frenzied way he sleeps.  I press a kiss to his furrowed brow, he mumbles in his sleep, and I turn back to settle under the weight of his arm around my waist.

We checked out and went home early.  Take a shuttle back.  

“Petty motherfucker,” I mutter to the text on my screen.  Naruto peers at it over my shoulder.  

“Someone’s throwing a tantrum,” he says.  I’m in the midst of twisting a few choice and creative expletives into my reply, but then Naruto kisses my bare shoulder, and I forget why I was mad in the first place.

With our ride gone anyway, we don’t rush.  We order room service.  Fluffy waffles with a raspberry sauce and whipped cream, fresh coffee and crisp peach slices I push onto Naruto’s tongue and let him lick the juice off the pads of my thumbs.

Honestly, I don’t know why we’re still doing this.  Itachi and his army are nowhere near us, can’t see us, haven’t been able to since last night.  Maybe there’s a little acting left in both of us.  I don’t bother fighting it when Naruto offers to give me another slow, languid and spine shattering blow job.

I’m waiting for Naruto to realise there’s no one to put on a show for anymore.  He did his part.  My brother believes I’m so serious for this boy, and he believes it because I am.  

I’m just waiting for Naruto to realise he can stop pretending like he cares the same for me.

“Let’s get a bath going in that giant tub we’ve got!  Are the room charges itemised on the bill?  I hope Itachi sees sensual bath salts and oils and knows exactly what we were spending his money on all morning!” Naruto is already stripping his sleep shirt off and making his way to the bathroom in just his boxers.

I scoff.  “Naruto.  You can stop now.”

He turns in the doorway and grunts.  “Huh?”

My anxiety is rising.  It makes me irritable and feral.  

“What’s with you?” He takes a step toward me.  I feel the pull of him even across the room.  He reaches out to me.

“Stop,” I say, forcing myself to put force into the word.  I step back, startled at myself, how easily I almost fell into him again.

He raises his hands in the air, to show he’s heard.

“Okay, fair!  We’ve probably charged enough to your brother’s card.”  He says it good-naturedly.  Like he’s not nearly as disappointed as I am.  “But I’m still curious.  I’ll pay!”

My hangover has hit me.  I have a raging headache, and a throbbing heart that hurts everytime it beats.

“Naruto, we’re alone now.  You don’t have to act so hard,” I say, forcing even myself to confront the truth I’ve been ignoring.  He blinks, an unreadable expression coming over his face.  I sigh, running a hand through my hair.  “It was fine on the mountain and at the restaurant and in the house where we can be seen, but no one is here but us, and I’m kind of sick of you hanging off of me.”

I didn’t mean that last part to sound so harsh.  I fix my gaze to the rug.

“What do you mean?”

I won’t meet his eyes.  I refuse.

“Naruto, seriously, stop it.”

“Stop what, Sasuke?”

“Stop the act!”

I’m desperate for him to understand.  I just don’t know what I need him to understand.

“What act?”

I can’t read his voice.  Is he scared?  Is he hurt?  Is he angry?

Because I certainly am.

“You don’t have to do it anymore.  Not here!  Not behind closed doors.”

Naruto looks bewildered, shocked.  A little speechless.  “What about-”

“Last night was fun.  It was good, but I’m done being your experiment.  You like guys!  Congratu-fucking-lations!” My voice cracks and takes on a tone I hoped Naruto would never have to hear.  “Why do you need me to keep telling you that?  Go tell your fucking girlfriend!”

Naruto stands there, not saying anything, for what feels like an eternity.

“Sasuke,” he says, careful and delicate.  “I like you.”

My world is spinning.  

“No, you don’t,” I spit.  “I’m just the first guy you kissed and happen to look a little feminine.”

“That’s what’s got you so pissy?  You think I think you’re close enough to a girl I can get away with rubbing one out on your leg and still say no homo?”

“Isn’t that part of it?” I challenge him.  “Aren’t I just lucky number one?”

“Sasuke, I don’t know about you, but I don’t fuck my friends and then expect nothing to come of it!  My friends are kind of important to me.”

I run a hand through my hair, yanking at the strands.  “I’m not saying you’re not important to me.  Of course you are!”  I need him to understand how important, and I need him to stop pretending I’m just as important to him.  “I’m saying you don’t want to be my boyfriend, so you can stop acting like it!”

“You’re right.  I don’t have to act anymore.”  It’s his turn to stare at the rug.  He swallows.  I watch his throat bob, and my traitorous brain remembers sucking kisses into it last night.  “I don’t want to be your boyfriend so Itachi will stop setting you up with eligible wives.  I don’t want to be your boyfriend so they’ll take your sexuality seriously.  I don’t want to be your boyfriend because I get a free ski weekend out of it.”  All these words should hurt.  Why don’t they hurt?  “I want to be your boyfriend because I like you.”

It’s too early in the goddamn morning for these serious declarations.

“How would you know that?” I’m not screaming, but my chest is bursting to hurt like it wants to.  “You’ve been hooking up with me for, what?  A few days?  How would you know you like me?”

Naruto strides forward with a growl, and I fear for half a moment he’s going to hit me.  I make myself stand still for it.  He grabs my shoulders instead.  I guess because I’m not wearing a shirt.

“When are you going to get it through your thick, beautiful, fucking head?” He is so angry and he is so beautiful.  “You think I stuck around this weekend because I’m some kind of masochist?  No!  It’s because you needed me!”  His fangs are bared and his eyes are shining.  He’s going to cry.  I grip his wrists, but I don’t push him away.  I can’t.  I can’t make myself.  “Yeah!  I didn’t know I liked guys until like two minutes ago.  And yeah!  I’m a shit boyfriend!  But I want to try for you.  I want to learn.  I want to be better!  Not because I think you’re my only chance and I’ll fuck it up, but because I don't want another chance with anyone else.  Now I’m terrified I’ll fuck it up!  I want to be better for you.”   And then he is crying.  I think I am too.  “You were the first person to see me, Sasuke.  And I think, this weekend, you finally let me see you too.”

He’s panting.  On the verge of sobbing.  We’re both standing in our underwear, in the middle of an overpriced room with a ridiculous fur rug we had sex on last night.  There are remnants of us all over the place.  In the way our clothes are strewn in a trail from the door to the bed.  In the way the pillows are set up so I was always supported, even as Naruto spent this morning taking me apart.  I literally can’t look anywhere and convince myself he’s lying.  Because it’s Naruto, and he’s stubborn, and he’s stupid, but he is incapable of lying.  

If he cares about you for even a second, he’ll never let you forget it.  I grip his wrists tighter, my fingernails digging into his skin.  He moves closer, his forehead resting on my shoulder, blonde hair tickling my skin.

“I always thought it’d be so cool to date someone like my best friend.”  He presses the words to my skin, against the beating pulse in my neck.  “Now I know; I don’t want anyone like you.  I want exactly you.” 

I grip his hair, yank his head back and press him to me.  Our breath is heavy, our hands are shaking.  I can taste our tears on my tongue.  He lifts me off the floor and I wrap myself around him.  He stumbles backwards a few steps before he manages to catch himself from falling and cracking open his skull.

“You’re a little heavy,” he grunts.  

I hiss and bite his lip for good measure.  “Are you saying I’m fat?”

For all his complaints, he’s still carrying me right toward the bathroom.

“No, you ass!  I’m saying you’re all man and muscle!  And I dig it a lot!”

Then he’s pushing bottles of lotion and unused face cloths aside so he can rest me on the bathroom counter.  

“If you’re going to keep being my boyfriend, I need you to stop using words like ‘dig’.  It’s not 2009!”

Naruto is busy turning on the tap so hot water blasts from the faucet.  Steam rises from the tub.  It’s going to make him so pink under his tan and I’m getting excited about making him pink other places.  Then he gives me a view of his big, beautiful, blue eyes surrounded by blonde lashes set in the most determined expression I’ve ever seen.

“I am going to keep being your boyfriend, but I’ll use whatever language I want to.”  My mind fills with steam faster than the room does, fogging up like the mirror behind me.  “Like a boss!”

I can’t help it.  I start laughing.  I throw my head back with force and my head smacks against the mirror.  Even as I’m clutching it in pain, I can’t stop laughing.

“You’re so ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously right, maybe,” he says, crowding between my legs and speaking against my hair, already damp from the steam.  

He hooks his fingers into the hem of my boxers and yanks them down my legs to my ankles.  My laughter gets caught in my throat as he does the same to himself, picks me up off the bathroom counter (with seemingly no effort this time) and lowers us into the tub now full to the brim with steaming hot and rose pink water.

I kiss him.  I kiss him hard enough I know my teeth are leaving marks against his lips.  I kiss him for long enough we run out of breath and have to take turns regaining it.  Him, while holding me tight enough to bruise and discovering the new parts of my body that make me whimper and moan.  Me, while gliding along his thigh, water foaming around us and overrunning the edge.  

I kiss him.  I kiss him and become a person whole again.

We check out late, charge the fee to Itachi, and get the next shuttle back to the house.  

I’m not sure who I expect to see first, but it’s Itachi who greets us at the door, with a cold shoulder and a scornful look over the rim of his mug.

“I see you two had a good time,” he says as we approach the porch steps.  It makes me pause.  There’s something hidden in his tone.

“You’re the one always telling me to take better advantage of our vacations,” I reply.

He doesn’t say anything more, just takes a long, languid sip of his coffee.  I usher Naruto to go inside, hoping I can get us packed and out to the car before Itachi decides he wants to play cat and mouse.  He goes to follow us.

“By the way, Naruto, how’s your girlfriend?”

Both of us pause in the foyer.  There’s ice trickling down my back, freezing my lungs, making it hard to think.  We both turn to look at him, and are met with a look of visceral hate.  I feel my own hate rising in my throat.

He couldn’t just let me have this.

“I thought I told you not to go digging into his life?” I say.

Itachi shrugs, and walks between us into the main rooms.  “I didn’t.”

“Zetsu,” I hiss.  “That’s cheating!’

If looks could kill, Itachi would have several lacerations in his back, and an open, bleeding heart.  

“And what you’re doing isn’t?”

I stomp into the kitchen with him.  Thank god the others aren’t here.  It’s just us.  Uchiha versus Uchiha.

“They broke up!” I say.  

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about them.  Frankly, I could care less what Naruto does with his love life.  It’s you I’m concerned with.  Setting up such a thin facade as to bring a fake boyfriend home.  Really, Sasuke?  How immature are you?”

“Can you blame me?  You wouldn’t stop shoving suitors into my face like I’m some mediaeval prince refusing to take the throne!”

“Maybe if you took finding a partner half as seriously as you took finding a fake partner, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

“Maybe if you just got off my back, I wouldn’t have had to fake a relationship!”

“It’s not fake!”  Naruto takes the space beside me.  Itachi regards him, like he forgot Naruto was even here.  “Okay, we came here faking it, but it’s not-”

“If you say something like ‘it’s not fake anymore’ then I will throw up in my mouth.”

I want to scream and throw my head against the marble countertops.

“Why do you have to be like that?” I cry.  “Did it ever occur to you that even if it was real from the beginning, I wouldn’t want to share it with you anyway!  Because you do this!  Every.  Fucking.  Time!”

“Sasuke, you are an Uchiha-”

“Like you’d ever let me forget!”  Fuck, I’m so sick of hearing that name.

“And you cannot bring home boys that don’t have any understanding of what that means!”

“Maybe I won’t be an Uchiha anymore than!” I know I sound like a petulant child.  I know I’m not helping this image Itachi has of me as a young kid crying on the playground because he was told he has to go home and practise his piano.  But if he’s going to constantly talk to me like I’m a child, maybe I’ll never stop acting like one.

Itachi has gone silent, leaning against the kitchen island, glaring at us across the kitchen.

“What does that mean?” He demands, in a voice that sends tremors of fear through my veins to my heart.  

I swallow.  I remember that feeling in the car with him yesterday.  I remember the boy beside me that cares for me no matter my name or my status, and has so since the day I met him.  Since the day I fell in love with him.  I remember the power he believes I have.  The power Itachi knows I have, or he wouldn’t be constantly trying to rob me of it.

I grit my teeth and I don’t back down.  

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Naruto won’t marry into this family?  That maybe I will marry out of it!”

Finally, finally, Itachi goes silent.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Finally, finally, Itachi has no leg to stand on.

“You know what, Itachi?  It’s not up to you.  It’s a choice we’ll make together, without your input.”

I steal my courage and look at Naruto, hoping he hasn’t been scared away by my sudden proposal.  I should never have worried about Naruto, who would never back down from defending a friend.  He looks at me with such a wide, proud smile.

“Sasuke Uzumaki!” He says, like it’s the greatest idea in the world.  “I like the sound of that!”

“Sasuke,” Itachi grits my name, loathing in his voice.  “This is your last chance-”

“No, this is your last chance with me!”

“How could you ever think I’d take a relationship like this seriously?” Itachi gestures between the two of us, and I don’t miss the look of contempt that flits over his face when he eyes Naruto.  I don’t miss the underlying meaning hidden in the this.   

“Oh, please take your prejudice and shove it up your ass!  I am not doing this because of you!  I’m gay!  I’ve been gay since the moment I was born.  There is no other choice here, not that that’s at all how bisexuality works, but you can very safely assume I will never date a woman!”

You could drop a pin on a shag carpet and hear it, the silence that encompasses the room.

“You’re gay?” He says, almost on a whisper.

I’m still terrified.  I’m still afraid of him, I will always be afraid of him, but that fear can no longer paralyse me and make me bend to the image he has of me.  Naruto looks at me in wonder, probably wondering where this version of me has been hiding.

I give Itachi one very quick, curt nod.

“Believe it or not, Itachi, some things in my life have nothing to do with you, and nothing to do with being an Uchiha.”

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with this information.  Every avenue he normally uses to coral me into his bidding, every string tied taught around my limbs, cut and shredded.  

I am no longer his dancing puppet.

It’s silent for what feels like eternity.  I hear someone sneeze outside the room, and a cry as they’re whacked in the arm.  So the others were listening.  

“Naruto,” I finally say, being the first one to speak.  “Let’s go home.”

He nods, takes my hand and leads me out of the room.  I find myself a little grateful.  My legs have stopped working.  

I let Naruto drive.  He doesn’t play any music and he doesn’t speak.  He fidgets, and I can hear it the whole time I lay my head against the seat and try to sleep.  I open my eyes when I know we’re off the grounds, when the familiar road finally starts to lead home.

I look over at him.  Naruto’s eyes are gleaming in the winter light, reflecting the stark, blue sky around us.  I shift, so he knows I’m awake, and carefully place my hand on his thigh.

He takes my hand in his immediately.

“That was,” he starts.  Swallows.  Clears his throat.  “A lot.”

I scoff.  “That’s an understatement.”

He clutches my hand tighter.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I sit with the question for a moment, letting the trees roll past us.  

“I am,” I announce.  “It’s been long overdue; cutting myself off from him and the others.”  I sigh, long and heavy, but it’s the first breath of fresh air I feel truly reaches my lungs.  “I think I got tired of hanging on to all my bullshit.”

Naruto grins at me.  

It’s silent again, a little more peaceful, and I think we’re going to spend the next couple of hours in comfortable silence.  Until Naruto starts fidgeting again.  I raise an eyebrow, that he’s ignoring.

“What, moron?” I ask.

He fidgets some more.  “I’m really proud of you for standing up to your brother and all, and for coming out to him.  I mean really coming out to him.  And it’s even cooler you wanted to announce our relationship so clearly to him…”

Oh my fucking god.  Where’s the but?  

My heart stops beating.  I’m going to have to ask him to pull over to throw up.  I applaud him for waiting until now to break up with me, and even after all we’ve been through, I can’t even bring myself to blame him.  What he just saw was probably not even a tenth of the family baggage that comes with being an Uchiha, and cutting myself off or no, I can’t guarantee it’ll all magically disappear.

I fucking wish.

“Okay,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“And it sounded really cool in the moment!  Like ‘Maybe Naruto won’t marry into this family.  Maybe I’ll marry out of it!’  That’s so badass!”

I would punch him if he wasn’t driving.

“Naruto, just say it!”

He grimaces, and takes a breath.  “I’m not ready to get married!”

He’s so stupid.  He’s so stupid and I love him.  Relief hits me hard.  I commend myself for being able to hide it.

“Neither am I, dumbass.”

Naruto blinks, eyes flitting between me and the road.  He’s not doing as good of a job at hiding his own relief.

“Oh.  Cool.”

Silence takes over again.  I’m suddenly missing his shitty hip-hop tunes.  I reach for his phone to plug it in and find them.

“What’s your passcode?” I ask.

“You’re still my boyfriend though, right?” Is his answer.

I can’t keep the smile off my face.

“Yes, moron, I’m still your boyfriend, but we don’t have to get married.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Great.  Now, passcode?”

“But like, maybe we could!  Way, way down the road!  Like, once I’ve figured out what my sexuality even is and we should live together first and-”

I heave a sigh.  “Naruto, pull over.”

After he’s shared a few more nervous glances my way, he obeys.

“Fuck, I’m screwing this up already.  You’re literally my best friend, Sasuke, and I love you so fucking much, but I can’t get married!”

While he’s babbling, I reach over and pull the lever that sends his seat careening back.  I take up a position in his lap, steering wheel digging into my back, and press my lips to his.  Sure enough, he folds easy, hands finding my hips, thumbs rubbing circles into my bones.  I kiss him until he’s stupid (which doesn’t take very long) and then I keep kissing him.  We’re wasting fuel, blasting the heater and the engine is still idle, but I don’t let him go until he’s done with me.

And he’s never done with me.

I pull away, peck his pink lips once, twice, then nibble on his bottom lip a little for good measure.

“Are you done?”

He gulps, but nods, with a sappy, lost, smitten look on his face.

“Yup!”

“We can be boyfriends, for as long as you want, even if that’s forever.”

I kiss his whiskers and climb off his lap.  We spend a few minutes calming down, before he rights his seat, and turns the car back onto the highway.

“Now!  Give me your damn passcode!”

He chuckles.  “Sixteen-oh-four.”  I tap it in and open up his Youtube Music.  “But you might want to change it.”

“Why?” I ask, not really paying attention as I try to search for something we both like.

He’s silently fidgeting again.  “Because it’s her birthday.”

I pause.  I look at his profile, and notice how determinedly he doesn’t look at me anymore.  “How can she say you didn’t care if your passcode is her literal birthday?”

He laughs nervously.  “Because otherwise I would have forgotten it.  You should make it your birthday!  Twenty-three-oh-seven!”

I don't comment that he can’t remember the birthday of someone he was meant to be dating, but knows mine off the top of his head.  I allow myself a little victory smirk.  I select a song, put his phone down, and go back to holding his hand, fingers intertwined, resting on his thigh.

I’m fidgeting nervously, picking at my fingernails, trying to calm my racing heart.  I pull a napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table and tear it to shreds.  Naruto returns from the bar holding our beers.

“Chicken wings are on the way!” he announces, and takes a swig of his drink.  I grunt in acknowledgement.

His hand fits into mine, pausing my homicide of the napkin, and squeezes my fingers.

“This isn’t going to be like last time,” he reassures me, again.  He’s been reassuring me all day.  Telling me we don’t have to do this tonight, that he’s happy to keep waiting.  It’s because of that I don’t want to wait anymore.  I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I have to wait a moment longer.

I’m also just completely terrified.

“I know that,” I say with a tight voice.  “I just can’t stop imagining it all going wrong.”

He squeezes my fingers again.  He abruptly lets go when two figures join our table.  

“Naruto!  Sasuke!” Sakura greets, kissing us both on the cheek in greeting.  “Don’t be a surgeon.  Don’t ever be a surgeon!”

Ino sits beside her, cackling.

“Trouble at the hospital again?” Naruto asks.  He’s careful not to touch me, but his arm is draped over the back of the booth, where it would be so easy to ease against it and let him trace the slope of my neck like he does when we’re on my couch and watching a movie together.

“I find the human body so fascinating,” Sakura continues.  “Just not when it’s exploding all over me!”

Naruto joins Ino’s cackling but I give her a sympathetic smile.

The others show up a few minutes later, and I grow more and more nervous with each new member of our group joining the table.  We managed to grab one of the big booths, but Lee shows up late enough he still has to borrow a chair from another table and Shikamaru is squashed in the seat opposite to us with Neji, Hinata, Sakura and Ino.  In a chair with five that’s meant to seat three.

Gaara took the seat beside Naruto when Kiba went to the bathroom, and refused to give it back.  

Everyone takes turns sharing their stories of their breaks.  What they did.  Where they went.  Who they spent it with.  I’m trying to be a good friend and listen to what they’re saying, but I’m not hearing it.  My brain is numb with nerves. 

Naruto seems at ease, like he always is when he’s in a group this large.  

“Okay, enough about you!” Sakura says as Kiba attempts to start another story of the dogs on his uncle’s ranch.  “Sasuke, I want to hear how it went with your brother!”

Well, if this ain’t it.

“Yeah, about that.”  I know I was meant to rehearse what I was going to say.  Naruto said it’s mostly my story to tell, and he’ll jump in when it’s his turn.  All my words left me the moment Sakura called any attention to me.  “So, funny story…”

And I tell them everything.  

I tell them how Itachi has been hassling me about finding a wife for years.  I tell them about his and his friends’ relentless bullying.  I tell them Naruto valiantly agreed to fake a relationship with me in an effort to help me carry some of my baggage out the door.  I tell them I put off dating for so long, because I was terrified of what Itachi would think of me bringing a guy home.  Of what anyone would think of me bringing a guy home.  

My friends are not assholes.  They’d die for me as much as I would die for them, but telling a group of people you care for about how your innermost self works is so much more terrifying than telling the people you care about less.  You care more about their opinions, and have so much more to lose.

“And by the end of it, I guess…” This is the important part.  The part I’ve been building up to.  Naruto is practically vibrating out of his seat in his excitement.  He tells me everyday he’s proud of me.  I take his hand under the table, lace our fingers together and bring them out onto the surface.  I trace the shape of his knuckles with his thumb, place my other hand over it so there’s no mistake.

This one’s mine.

“By the end of it, we kind of decided to-”

“No!  Don’t say it!”  We’re shocked into silence.  “Please!”

Sakura turns to him.  “Lee, shut up!”

“But I can’t-”

“Hah!” Gaara calls in an uncharacteristically loud laugh, pointing at him.  “Pay up!”

“No!” Lee screeches.

The table erupts into action all over again.  Sakura, annoyed we were interrupted, growls at the boys.  Ino laughs.  Shikamaru shakes his head, like this is all Lee’s fault for betting against Gaara, who has some eerily accurate predictions about us sometimes.

“You bet on us?” Naruto asks.  I can’t tell if he’s truly angry.  We watch as Lee, definitely, truly sobbing, hands over his cash to Gaara.    

“Lee bet you two would be together by Christmas.  Gaara, by New Year’s,” Shikamaru explains.  “But when your girlfriend broke up with you, Naruto, Gaara changed his bet and said you’d be together by the end of winter break.”

“I told them it was immature and cheap!” Sakura says, disappointed scowl aimed at the two of them.

“You guys suck!” Naruto calls, then raises a palm to Gaara.  “I want in on that!”

“Honestly!” Sakura wails.

“Thirty percent,” Naruto demands.  “It’s my relationship, afterall.”

“Ten,” Gaara counteroffers.

“Twenty!”

Gaara nods and hands over Naruto’s share.

“Are you serious?” I ask him as he settles back beside me.  “You’re earning off of this?”

“Don’t you want twenty bucks?” He asks, mischievous grin on his face, offering me the aforementioned twenty bucks.

I consider it.  “Yeah, I want twenty bucks.”

My hand is back in Naruto’s, on the table, in full display.  I know he’s going to tease me later, for being so right.  That none of them would care that I'm gay and tried to deceive my brother with a fake relationship.  None of them would care that I'm cutting myself off from the Uchiha name.  

Or rather, they care very much, but only in the way my friends ever could.  

“Wait, hold up,” Naruto pauses suddenly, turning to Gaara.  “How did you guess we’d get together?  I was straight!”

Everyone laughs.  It’s a joke everyone is in on, except us.

“Naruto, buddy, I don’t know how to tell you this,” Shikamaru starts.  “But you flirted with Sasuke more than you ever flirted with your own girlfriend.”

Naruto makes a loud noise of protest. “I did not!”

“He flirts with everyone,” I say in his defence, rolling my eyes.  They all start laughing again.

Naruto looks like he’s going to argue with them.  Then he pauses, seriously thinking about it, and begins to turn as red as the booth we’re sitting in.

“Oh my god!” He buries his face in his hands and wails, which only makes everyone laugh harder.

I frown at him.  “Don’t you?” I ask, incredulous.

“No,” comes his cracked response.  He looks at me between his fingers.  “I don’t think I do.”

Anyone’s words are lost in the cry of our group as they slap and tease him, recounting tales of when he bought me hot chocolate at work when I was sick and refused to stay home.  Then waited until I was done and walked me home.  

Or when he bought me a flower crown out of nowhere because he thought it would suit my eyes; his girlfriend at the time was right beside him.

Or when he-

“Okay!  I get it!” He cries, now burying his face against my shoulder.  “I’m gay as fuck for this man!”

I cringe a little when everyone cheers, but if it doesn’t warm my heart in all the best ways.  Fuck them, I care about them all so much.  Sakura announces we should get drinks to celebrate.

“Yes!  Agreed!” Lee says, now in a better mood.  “And Gaara is paying!”

He scowls and we erupt into laughter.  

Naruto is still flushed pretty pink, but picks himself up off my shoulder, and tries his best to participate in the conversation.  I slide my hand back into his, kiss his cheek, and whisper in his ear.  “It’s okay.  I was probably flirting with you the whole time too.”

It seems to help, and he gives me a grateful smile.  “Sorry I got here a little slow.”

I shrug.  “It’s not like there’s a best before date.”

One Year Later

I am so fucked.

“Excuse me?” I say into the phone, my voice betraying me with a tremble I don’t give it permission to have.

“I said,” Itachi repeats on the other end, deep voice sure and poignant.  “Why did your boyfriend just show up at my apartment door, demanding your hand in marriage?”

I pause in the middle of the sidewalk.  Someone bumps into my shoulder and gives me a dirty look.  I return it with my own.

“How am I supposed to know anything about that?” I ask.

“So you two haven’t been talking about marriage?”

“Not since…”

Not since a year ago when I decided to announce in front of my only remaining family I was disowning myself and taking Naruto’s name.  

It’s been a hard year.  A long year.  My relationship with Itachi is still tumultuous on good days.  He did ask to talk it out.  He did ask if we could fix our relationship.  I told him, honestly, I didn’t think there was anything left to fix, but if he truly wanted to be a part of my life, my life with Naruto, he could do it on my terms.

For the most part, he’s been amenable to that.

Except for now, when he spoils my boyfriend’s surprise proposal.

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took so long,” Itachi mutters.  “The way that boy looks at you, I expected to get a message from Vegas with an elopement status.”

I scoff.  “We only just moved in together.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Did you want something?” I’m suddenly eager to get home.  

“Yes, actually, I wanted to say congratulations-”

“Prematurely,” I mutter.  

“And I hope you have a long and happy marriage.”

I laugh into the phone.  “You do not!”

Surprisingly, Itachi laughs too.  “You’re right, I do not.  I still think he’s not good enough for you, and I could set you up with a thousand better men who all have greater prospects than he does.  Prospects that match yours.”

“So you’ve said,” I keep walking.  Winter hit early this year and the wind is cold on my cheeks and the tips of my ears.  Luckily, I have a living, human furnace waiting for me at home.  “And I’ve told you, I love him.  I’m not changing my mind about him.”

Itachi sighs, but for once, I can’t hear the bone-deep, exhausting disappointment he usually has for me.  If anything, I can almost hear a kind of happiness in it.  

“Fine.  I expect an extravagant wedding at least.  Don’t break your poor, big brother’s heart and elope!”

“We’ll do what we do and you’ll say thank you.  With a gift of cash.”  As I’m wrapping up the conversation, suddenly something about Itachi’s words hit me, and I have to pause in the middle of the sidewalk all over again.  A lady in leopard print jeggings walking a yappy dog frowns at me.  “Wait, did you say yes?”

Itachi clears his throat.  “What can I say?  He’s very persuasive.”

“You said yes so he’d leave, didn’t you?”

“The game was on, and I already missed a good goal because he wouldn’t stop waxing poetic about you in my living room!”

I laugh at him.  “Not that it matters what you said.  Naruto will ask anyway.”  Of that, I am sure.

“Then why was he here?”

I delight in hearing the pain in Itachi’s voice.

“Maybe it was for you rather than it was for him.  Maybe he wanted you to give you the chance to take us seriously, before we really do drive to Vegas and elope.”

There’s a pause, and Itachi answers with a laugh.  “And maybe I respect him more for it.”

We say our goodbyes and I speed walk the rest of the way home.

When I reach our apartment door, I pause before opening it, taking a long, deep breath.  I don’t know what I was expecting.  Maybe the apartment to be dark.  Candles lit in the living room.  Rose petals in a trail to the bed.  Pink, rose water steaming in the tub in an adorable repeat of our morning not so long ago when we bit our words of greedy affirmation into each other’s throats.

Instead, our apartment hasn’t changed.  There’s still the foyer table cluttered with photos of our time so far together, some taped to the wall because we haven’t had the time to frame them.  I can hear the TV blasting the tunes of whatever anime Naruto is avidly watching.  It’s a little chilly still, the thermostat set low, as Naruto naturally runs hot.

I dump my coat and boots at the cabinet, and make my way in to find Naruto in a shirt and shorts.  He has his hair tied back, bandana around his forehead, slurping ramen broth like it expires tomorrow.

He looks over his shoulder, infamous grin spreading across his face.

“Sasuke!  Hey babe!” He has a noodle stuck to his chin.

I throw the rest of my things on the table, walk to the couch and deposit myself beside him.  He snaps his chopsticks with one hand, discarding them into the bowl and the bowl onto the coffee table.  His thick arms wind around me, and I busy myself sliding in even closer, pressing kisses to his exposed collarbones.

“Itachi called on my way home,” I say.

“Oh, yeah?” Naruto winds a hand into my hair, kissing the strands, and pulling me on top of him so I’m lying across his body.  “What’d he have to say this time?”

I smile against his chest.

“Just the usual.”

“He still disapproves of me, huh?  Well, I’ll show him!  Don’t underestimate Naruto Uzumaki!”

I laugh, and not because Naruto’s hands have found my ass in my jeans and it kind of tickles.

“No one would dare underestimate you, Mr. Uzumaki,” I say, but my words are muffled while I find a squishy part of his chest to bite.  Lucky for me, it’s all squishy.  He grunts, and tugs on my hair.  I know it means he wants a kiss.  I know it means he wants to see my face, to look into my eyes, to tell me he loves me.

I do what he asks, kissing what parts of his face I can reach.

“You tell him that, Future Mr. Uzumaki!” he commands.

I laugh against his jaw, and finally seal our lips together.

I don’t know when he plans to propose, Itachi can’t spoil all his surprises, but when he undoubtedly does, I am undoubtedly going to say yes.