#I miss being able to eat my breakfast and smoke a bowl and just relax before I start my day

[rosicheeks]

😓

[onlysarah235678]

 A Little Bit Part 16

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Happy Friday!!! It’s been a long week. Here’s the next chapter. Enjoy! This might be one of my favorite gifs by illuminated-blue.

Warnings: angst, mentions of assault and discussions about domestic violence  

5 am arrives as quickly as you thought it would, and despite your insistence that you’d be able to go back to sleep, you find yourself still tossing and turning after Billie’s gone. She had actually woken up a little earlier than she needed to, and had snuck out of bed to get ready. She hadn’t wanted to disturb you, but once it was 6 and she really did need to leave, she wakes you up to say goodbye.

Billie kisses your forehead and your nose before you start to stir. You’d been deep in sleep, but the tickle you feel makes you realize that someone was trying to get your attention and you smile as you finally wake up. You yawn before opening your eyes to see Billie standing over you with a smile.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I just wanted to let you know that I was leaving.”

You take a minute to look at Billie and your smile widens as you notice that she’s not nearly as dressed up as you thought she’d be. She looks good, as always, but your sleep-addled brain wasn’t working at full capacity yet. Not even half honestly.

“Good morning. You look cute. Is that what you’re wearing for the interview?”

Billie rolls her eyes at you before shaking her head. She mentions that she’ll change and all that once she gets to the studio and you just nod before you have to stifle another yawn. You go to sit up but Billie stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“You should go back to sleep, Y/N. It’s still early.”

You sigh before nodding in agreement. You hadn’t really planned on getting up. You were just trying to get closer to Billie. You pout slightly as you shoot her a questioning look.

“Can I have another kiss before you go?”

Billie sighs as if it’s such a chore to do this for you before she leans in with a smile. She kisses your lips this time before pulling away and running a hand through your hair with a teasing look.

“I love your bedhead. Y/N.”

You groan in embarrassment as you hide under the covers and you attempt to fix your hair. It works about as well as you thought it would and you end up making it worse as you peek out at Billie from beneath the sheets. She just chuckles before checking her watch. She really needs to leave now.

“Billie.”

You whine pitifully as Billie just turns to leave the room. She smirks at you before waving as she disappears out the door.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nod to yourself as you push your hair out of your face. You know it doesn’t matter now, but it’s actually bothering you. You speak up right before Billie leaves and she shoots you a grateful look before she’s gone.

“Okay, good luck, Billie.”

Instead of going back to sleep, you only manage to lie in bed underneath the covers for an hour. Milo was up and he was being good, but you were actually getting restless. You were nervous about how today would go for Billie despite your conversation last night. You sigh as you think about how nice it was to spend the night with Billie again. You may just be getting better, but you’d slept more soundly by the blonde’s side. You hope that this will continue because when you finally roll out of bed a little after 7, you’re feel better than you have in a while.

You yawn as you lead Milo out into the hallway before you realize how poorly dressed you are. It probably isn’t very cold, but you don’t know how long Milo will take and you don’t want to be caught wearing something too revealing. You retreat back into the bedroom, ignoring Milo’s whines, as you look around for something to wear. Billie’s closet is still open and you look inside to see if there’s something you could borrow. Just for your walk.

Milo’s whining starts getting louder and you hurry to grab something as you wave him off.

“Milo, I know. Just give me…”

The first thing you see is Billie’s sweatshirt, and you hesitate for only a second before grabbing it. You pull it over your head before pushing Milo off as he jumps on you. You can detect a hint of Billie’s perfume and shampoo mixed in the fabric, and you’re thrilled that it’s finally more soothing than off-putting. You walk out into the hallway and remind yourself to check on the kittens soon before heading downstairs. You are already thinking about what you’ll eat for breakfast as you grab Milo’s leash and lead him to the backyard. It’s not fenced in and you don’t want Milo out for too long, but as you walk outside and realize how cold it actually is you curse yourself.

You shiver slightly as you stand by Milo who’s peeing on a tree. You look around quickly and see nothing interesting before following Milo back inside. He’s excitedly panting as he sits and waits for you to take off his leash. As soon as it’s off he’s racing to the food bowl that is set up just outside the kitchen. You grab his food and put in just a little more than usual before leaving Milo to his breakfast. You head to the fridge and open it and stare inside for a second before just settling on eating leftovers again. You’re too lazy to make anything else and you just grab a bowl to heat them up.

You stand around and watch Milo drink for a few seconds before you realize you don’t have your phone. You decide to run upstairs and get it while your food is cooking, just in case you need it.

You go upstairs considerably slower than a run, but that’s fine as you make it upstairs without your head protesting at all. You yawn again because you really should have stayed in bed longer before you arrive to the bedroom and see your phone on the side table. You grab it and decide to lie down again before turning it on.

You wait until the home screen pops up and you are about to just check your email when you’re bombarded with over a dozen text messages and several missed call notifications. You didn’t realize how out of touch you’d been for the past few days, and you suddenly feel bad when you read through the texts from your concerned friend who had started following you in the news.

You squint slightly after writing a response and you realize why you aren’t supposed to be looking at screens. Your head starts hurting after just a few minutes so you decide that anything beyond a quick check in can wait.

Nearly five minutes later you are done and heading back downstairs for breakfast when your phone beeps. You stop in the middle of the stairs to check it and you see that it’s Billie.

Don’t forget to take your meds. I left them in the bathroom so Milo wouldn’t get them.

You sigh as you groan at your forgetfulness before starting back upstairs. You find them quickly and take them before returning to the kitchen. You reheat your food before moving to the living room. You respond to Billie with a thank you before you start eating. It’s not until you’re halfway done and find yourself looking at the television that you realize you don’t know what channel Billie is going to be on.

You quickly text her back asking this before lying back on the couch with a sigh. You have nearly two hours to kill before Billie’s interview and you’re not sure what you’re going to do with your time.

Billie was sitting in her dressing room just waiting to be called out. She was smoking her first cigarette in what felt like days as she scrolls through her phone absentmindedly. She’d considered texting you again, but she thought better of it. She knew that you weren’t supposed to be on your phone, so she was just killing time in the only way she knew how to at the moment.

She took another drag as she read yet another article about your hospital visit. She didn’t get nearly as far into this one as the others because they were all the same at this point. No one knew anything, and they all used the same damn picture. Luckily, no one had followed them home to get another one, but Billie was getting sick of seeing you on a stretcher in front of your clinic.

She had already decided that she wasn’t going to disclose much about that night. She wanted to protect you from the media as much as she could, but sometimes it felt like she was fighting a losing battle. As Billie scrolls past yet another article about you, she finds her mind drifting to your ex.

Billie had seen a glimpse of the effect she’d had on you last night. When you talked about her, your entire demeanor changed. You grew more reserved, more anxious and Billie hated to see you retreat back into your shell. You’d been growing more confident and relaxed with her, and she loved that you asked her for things that you wanted.

Like last night. She was thrilled that you’d asked to come stay with her. She was glad that you had been feeling better last night and this morning, but she knew that you couldn’t rush things. You had the rest of the week off from work, and Billie intended to make sure that you did as little as possible until then.

Billie puts out her cigarette when there’s a knock on the door. She sighs as she turns to see that one of the crew members is standing in the hall looking far too stressed for so early in the morning.

“Ms. Howard. We’re ready for you.”

You’re practically running down the stairs when it’s close to 9 o’clock. You had gotten distracted by the kittens and you had spent way too much time with them. They were all looking so good. You were tempted to let them roam around with Bit, but you had an interview to watch, and a big dog who had proven to like kittens. You let Bit out though because Billie said that you could, and you and Bit head downstairs to the living room. Bit runs off somewhere and Milo perks up slightly before just turning to you as you jump onto the couch. You find the remote before turning on the television with a sigh.

You are about to change the channel to Billie’s interview, but you don’t get a chance before you hear Milo bark. You cringe at the sound before turning to see him with his paws up on the window looking into the backyard. You frown before standing up to get him down before he breaks something. Milo continues barking and you grab him by the harness before glancing outside. You frown as you look around, not noticing anything at first, but then you see something in the yard that doesn’t belong there.

You open the back door, leaving Milo inside for a second as you go investigate. You can’t tell what it is immediately, but as you get closer to it you realize it’s a box. Your first thought is food because your mind is always on food, but then you realize it’s a box of cigarettes. You stare at them for a moment before shaking your head with a sigh. You bend down to pick them up before remembering that you’re late.

You hurry back inside, locking the door behind you before leading Milo to the couch. You sit down quickly and change the channel before cursing when you realize the interview has already started.

“-this season?”

You just sit back and listen to Billie talk about her show for the next few minutes. You don’t realize it immediately, but you have the dopiest smile on your face as you watch Billie talk animatedly about her work. You’re so excited for her, and you’re looking forward to watching her show with her. Sure, you’re behind a couple of seasons, but that doesn’t matter. You were determined to not fall asleep on her, for once.

Billie talks a little bit about how shooting had gone, and she mentions names of people that you don’t know. You make a note to ask about them at some point before your phone vibrates next to you. You’re tempted to ignore it though because you can barely turn away from Billie. She looks stunning in the blue dress she’s wearing, and it’s definitely a step up from the sweats she’d had on this morning. Not that you didn’t appreciate those too.

You eventually look to your phone because the interviewer is asking Billie about past seasons and how this one differs and you really can’t focus on that. Your head is hurting a little and you open your phone to see an angry text from your friend. Whoops.

Apparently, you weren’t allowed to drop off the face of the Earth after getting a concussion.

You text her for a couple of minutes before a question the interviewer, Wendy asks catches your attention.

“Now I have to ask since I’ve been hearing about it for a while now. You’re seeing someone, is that right?”

You look to the screen as Billie smiles genuinely before nodding in answer. You focus on how her hair bounces with the movement before you realize what she’s saying.

“Yes, we’ve been seeing each other for about a month. Since I took my cats to her.”

You listen as Billie tells the story you’ve lived, about how the two of you met. You thought back to that day with a smile before returning your attention to the television. You squeeze your eyes shut for a minute before trying to look to the screen again. Your head is hurting so you decide to lie down before it gets any worse. You close your eyes and just listen to what Billie says next in response to what you’ve been dreading most.

“I heard about Y/N’s accident at work. I hope everything is okay.”

Billie’s smile fades slightly as she thinks about the incident that put you in the hospital. She sighs as she nods before mentioning your fall.

“She’s doing better, but she’s still taking it easy. At least she’s supposed to.”

Billie smiles as she says this and you roll your eyes at what she’s insinuating. You are doing exactly what you’re supposed to. Sure, you might be peeking a little from where you’re lying on your back, but only a little. Only when Billie talks.

“Does that mean she’s not watching now?”

Billie just shrugs at this and you watch as she glances out to the audience. You really wish that you could have been there. You sigh as you listen to Billie say that you probably are before you reach out for Milo.

“Come here boy.”

Milo had just been sitting by alternating between watching you and the television. He hurries up to you and puts his head in your face so he was practically licking you. You groan before pushing him back and scratching him behind the ears with a sigh.  

“You’re such a good boy.”

You watch as Milo turns away from you and sniffs the cigarettes that you forgot you just left on the couch next to you in your hurry. You move them away before sitting up with a groan. You grab a pillow and bury your face in it until you hear your name again.

“Y/N is doing her best to ignore it, but sometimes—the more persistent ones get to her.”

“Like those who sneak into backyards?”

You watch as Billie frowns at the thought of the reporter that you’d run into two too many times. You scowl as Billie just shakes her head before responding.

“Exactly.”

Wendy was smiling as she shot Billie a look that you didn’t particularly like. You just wait for Billie to respond to the question you know she’s been agonizing over for a while.

“From what I’ve been told he definitely interrupted something.”

Billie merely smirks at the thought before shaking her head. She, Michelle, and Jeff had all discussed how she’d answer this and they had decided that she should be the one to bring it up first. Tell the truth, but don’t give too many details.

“Actually Y/N’s dog, Milo is to blame for that. He’s very protective of her and misread what was happening.”

You nearly sigh as Billie says this because you’re so glad that you aren’t having to answer these questions. You had been put on the spot and well, the first time it had happened to you, you’d barely been coherent. You knew that Billie could do a better job of explaining everything, and you were grateful that you both had talked about what she was going to say.

You had told Billie that you didn’t care what she said. You’d been fresh out of the hospital and a little too tired to be sincere, but after you’d slept a little more the two of you had a serious conversation. You were only a little worried about people knowing too much about you. You figured that some things were public record and could be figured out easily enough, so you didn’t care much about that. The only thing you really had been concerned about was the topic that Billie was discussing now.

She was doing exactly what’s she’d promised and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

“I guess you haven’t earned his approval yet?”

Billie just smiles as you roll your eyes at the thought. Milo loves Billie and is honestly wagging his tail just from watching her on TV. He comes up to jump next to you on the couch and you sigh before deciding that it’s fine, if he sits on your lap. You pat your lap and your 70lbs dog eagerly scrambles on top of you before turning back to the television.

You already feel his weight and you know this won’t last long, but you like watching as Milo stares at the television.

“Not quite.”

You sigh at the lie before your phone vibrates again. You shoot it a look but it’s just out of reach so you leave it be for now. The interview is finishing up and you breathe out a sigh of relief before frowning in confusion. What time was it? That seemed to fly by. It was just before 9:30, but it felt like it had only been a few minutes since you sat down. You push Milo off of you with a groan before standing up to stretch. You grab your phone to send Billie a text before you look to your friend’s message. You wander into the kitchen and refill Milo’s water bowl. As he takes a drink you look out the window at the backyard. You look at the garden for a minute trying to figure out what is different.

Billie had showed you pictures of her garden, and you’d seen it when you walked Milo, but you could tell that something was off. You leave Milo inside as you go out and investigate, and you hurry over to the garden to take a better look.

The flowers on the right look about the same as when you’d seen them last. There were a lot of vegetables next to these that made you hungry, but then you saw the lettuce on the left and frowned.

“What the...?”

You kneel down to get a closer look, and your frown deepens as you confirm that the lettuce was squished. The head was crushed and torn by what looked like a big footprint. Who would be walking back here other than Billie? You blame your concussion on the fact that you don’t realize it immediately, but once you remember what you’d found earlier you manage to connect the dots.

The cigarettes.

You never really got a good look at Billie’s cigarettes. She always kept them in a case so you couldn’t tell what kind they were. That didn’t matter much because you doubt that Billie would leave them in the yard, on purpose or otherwise. As you wander back inside and meet Milo at the door you remember how he’d barked too. He doesn’t usually bark unless he has a reason. Aka if he wants your attention or if he’s trying to tell you something.

This thought makes you stiffen before you head toward the front door. You make sure to lock the back door behind you though because suddenly you’re on edge. You stop at the front door, deciding not to open it, and you go to the next room over to look out the window. You don’t see anyone or any cars on the street, so you relax a little, but you still don’t let your guard down.

Had someone been watching you?

Billie is on her way home from the studio when you text her again. She hadn’t stuck around long after the interview because she wanted to get home to check on you. She of course had to stay for a while to talk to the host, but she didn’t linger for long. Although the interview had gone pretty well in her opinion, that didn’t mean that Wendy wouldn’t try to ask more invasive questions behind the scenes. Billie had answered all that she wanted to about you and she really just wanted to get home.

Billie responded to your first text about ‘killing it’ before she started the drive home. It was almost half an hour without traffic, so Billie was lucky to be home in only 40 minutes. Once she’s home, she closes the car door behind her and hurries inside. She is as quiet as possible as she opens the door in case you are sleeping, but she realizes that it doesn’t matter. You hear her anyway and are quick to greet her.

“Billie, you’re back already?”

The medium turns around from shutting the door just in time to catch you as you run into her. You wrap your arms around her tightly as you pull her in for a hug and Billie is a little caught off guard by your enthusiasm. It seems that you’re feeling better. She hugs you back before nodding and pulling away to pay attention to Milo too. He’s pawing at her and whining as you and Billie embrace. After a quick scratch behind the ears, Milo is placated and just sits and watches the two of you to see if you do anything interesting.

“Traffic wasn’t bad. Are you feeling alright?”

Billie smiles as she asks this because she can definitely tell that you are, and she loves to see it. She loves the smile she receives in response as you just nod enthusiastically and talk about how you’d been since she left. You two make your way to the kitchen for a drink as you ramble excitedly.

“Yes! Much better thanks. I had to lie down and just listen for the last half of the interview, but I loved it. You did so well! I know I don’t know much about all of that, but I think you did great. Also, you definitely looked TV ready. You looked--.”

You trail off as you take a second to look at the medium who really does look amazing. You love this dress on her. You look to Billie’s hair again before you stifle the urge to smile wider and reach out and touch. You completely forgot what you were saying and you watch Billie pour herself a drink before smiling at you. She asks if you want one, but you just shake your head in response.  

“You know enough dear, thank you. Your opinion means more than anyone else’s.”

You roll your eyes at Billie’s words before you change your mind and grab Billie’s drink before she can. Billie shoots you a look and you shoot it back before you just smile and hand it to her. You’re not in the mood to be too bratty right now.

“Did you get my text?”

Billie hesitates as she thinks about this before nodding. She had been driving and forgot about it, and she says this with an apologetic look that you just wave off. You leave the kitchen and wander over to the living room where you left the box of cigarettes. You grab them before holding them up for Billie to see. You return to the kitchen and glance outside as you explain what had happened while Billie was gone.

“It’s okay. I was just asking about these? I found them outside, and it also looks like someone stepped on your lettuce. Sorry.”

Billie frowns as she looks to the box of cigarettes that definitely doesn’t belong to her. She holds out her hand and you give them to her, watching as she inspects the box. It was fairly new and must have been left there recently. Today probably given how often you two went out there with Milo.

“How did you say you found them?”

Mason scowled as he returned to his office empty-handed yet again. Ever since he had been lucky enough to get the shots of you and Billie last week, he had been working hard to prove his worth. He had been following you and Billie constantly, but he hadn’t been able to get more than a few shots of either of you.

He had been at the clinic when you passed out, and he’d followed you to the hospital. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to get anything there since security wouldn’t let him in, and he wouldn’t have been able to get into the emergency room anyway.

He hadn’t seen Billie again until she started walking your dog. Mason wouldn’t admit it, but he wasn’t brave enough to confront Billie when she was with Milo. He didn’t want to get attacked again and he just watched as the medium walked him through the neighborhood. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that you joined her.

As cute as this domestic crap was, he couldn’t really use any of it. No one would really care about it, and he would be laughed at by his peers and criticized by his boss. No, he needed something else, but he just wasn’t sure how to get it.

He was still looking into your accident, but he couldn’t figure out much. You hadn’t said anything, and Billie hadn’t said anything helpful during her interview today. After failing to get anything useful from you, he’d hidden and waited until Billie got back from her interview. He literally had nothing but you and Billie walking your dog, the dog that had caught him in the backyard just seconds after he got there.

He just hoped that his contact at your apartment panned out, or else he would have nothing.

Billie had two more interviews this week, specifically on Friday. You hadn’t remembered about them immediately despite her telling you, and you felt guilty about it. She tried to reassure you that it wasn’t a big deal though. You were recovering, but you were still pouting as Billie looked at some of the materials Michelle had sent over.

“Do you need to work for the rest of the day?”

You’re lying on the couch looking through your phone when Billie looks over to you. She’d been a little more lenient because you were feeling better, but Billie was still wary of you spending too much time reading. Still, she knew you were probably working so she left it alone for now.

“I shouldn’t no. Maybe another hour or so. Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

You laugh at Billie’s tone before rolling your eyes at her suggestion. You knew she was partially kidding, but your mind wandered to what else you two could do other than what you’d originally planned on. You put your phone down because you’ve done all you’re going to at the moment. You had emailed your boss yesterday and confirmed that you could work on Monday. Since then, you’d been scanning through the few emails you’d gotten since Sunday.

For once, you were glad that news traveled fast because it meant fewer emails for you to go through. You looked at the time and did a little math before deciding to go for it. The worst Billie could say was no.

“Well, if you have time, I was thinking that maybe we can go to my place later to grab some of my things? Not that I don’t love wearing your clothes.”

Billie actually laughs at this before she really thinks about your question. She had invited you here for an unspecified amount of time, but if you really were going to stay until you had to work you raised a good point. Billie was running out of clothes to give you. She sighs before realizing that she was getting a little ahead of herself. She should check and see what your intentions were before making plans with you.

“Did you want to stay here for the rest of the week? I know Dr. Skinner said at least that long.”

Billie wanted to say more. She wanted to tell you that you were welcome to stay here, but she didn’t want to pressure you. Despite her earlier comment she wanted you to be comfortable and recover as fast as possible. She didn’t want to mess that up in any way.

You nod before groaning as you sit up and run a hand through your hair. You definitely wouldn’t mind staying with Billie, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You loved being around the medium, but if she was going to be working for the next couple of days, you didn’t want to be in the way.

“I won’t annoy you with my presence? Or Milo’s for that matter?”

Billie simply smiles before shaking her head. She would want nothing more than for you to stay here with her. She had planned on spending this week with you, and selfishly she was glad that it was here so she didn’t have to worry about the kittens. She knew you probably weren’t as comfortable here, but she was hoping that over the next couple of days she could change that.

“Of course not, Y/N. I would love if you two stayed here.”

You smile gratefully before nodding to yourself. You were blushing slightly but you shake it off as you open your mouth to ask again, but Billie beats you to it.

“How about I finish this up and then we go? Does that work?”

You agree to this and you let Billie get back to what she was doing as you start to make a list. You don’t want to forget anything, but as you get started you realize that you’ve forgotten something major.

“My car!”

Billie turns to see you staring wide-eyed at your phone before you look up at her. She doesn’t get a chance to ask what you’re talking about before you shake your head.

“I forgot about my car! Is it still at work? Wait, of course it is.”

You scold yourself for being so dumb before you sigh and try to figure out how you’ll get it back. You don’t realize how far down the rabbit hole you’ve gone trying to figure this out until Billie speaks up and clues you in on something that she and Erin had briefly discussed when they were arranging for Milo to be dropped off.

“Y/N. I talked to Erin and she said that she could bring it over, or it could stay there until you work again.”

You nod in thought because although you’re not supposed to be driving for at least a week, you don’t like the idea of your car just sitting in the clinic parking lot. Either way, there’s not much that can be done about it now, so you just let it go for the time being. You are just glad that you will be able to go to your apartment soon.

While Billie finishes up working, you check on the cats and take Milo into the backyard for some time outside. He is eager to sniff around and even tries to eat some of the vegetables before you redirect his attention. The two of you just sit on the deck, Milo on his back so he can get belly scratches as you take time to just relax and be outside. You want to go on a walk, but you’re too lazy and don’t want to risk a headache before you go to your place. You plan on bringing Milo because you don’t want him left alone at Billie’s house with the cats.

You have another reason for wanting to bring Milo with you though. You didn’t think you’d run into trouble, but you haven’t been there since leaving for work Sunday. You were only a little freaked out about the idea of going back and running into Doug again. You hadn’t really considered it much because you didn’t want to for all the reasons you’d given Billie, but now?

If you weren’t going to report him to the police, you at least were going to do a better job of ignoring him. Or being more alert when he was around.

Milo yawns before rolling onto his stomach and shaking fur and dirt everywhere. You groan in annoyance as you close your eyes and wipe the dirt off your face. You look at the time and decide that you should eat more before you go. You’re also just a little anxious about going back and eating a little might help you with your nerves. You lead Milo back inside, making sure his feet weren’t muddy before heading for the kitchen. You stop a couple steps in though when you don’t hear Billie on the phone, and you head her way to see what she’s up to.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

Billie looks up just in time to meet you for a quick kiss before sighing in response. You move to lean against the chair across from her as Billie takes one last look at her computer.

“I’m almost done. Are you ready to go?”

You’re surprised by this and your eyes widen as you hurry to speak. You shake your head before standing up straight again.

“Oh yeah, but I wasn’t rushing you. Just being nosy.”

Billie only smiles before shaking her head and mentioning that she was done anyway. She had tomorrow to work on this and she wasn’t as worried now that she had an interview under her belt. The first one was always the worst. At least that’s how it was supposed to go.

“You’re not, Y/N. You can ask anything. You know that.”

You blush slightly but nod in understanding as Billie shuts her computer and stands up with a sigh. You smile as she looks to her clothes, probably deciding on whether or not she should change before she looks back to you. Her smile changes to one that’s softer as she comes to stand by you. She reaches out for the hoodie that you had forgotten you’d put on this morning.

“This looks good on you, sweetheart. I thought you didn’t like wearing my clothes?”

Billie’s teasing has the desired effect and she watches as you laugh to cover your slight blush. You are getting used to Billie teasing you, but despite this, you know Billie likes to see you blush. You shake your head finally before following Billie as she heads to the kitchen to grab her things.

“I never said that. I just—you know, miss my jeans.”

You honestly just said the first piece of clothing that would come to mind. You don’t really miss much in particular, but if you had to pick something you would have said your sweatpants. You’d wear them all day everyday if you could.  

Your thoughts are cut off as Billie just chuckles as she grabs her keys and her phone before turning toward the front door.

“I miss your jeans too, dear.”

You stop short of waving Milo over to you when Billie says this. You rack your brain for a time where Billie has actually seen you wear any. You frown and go to say this, but Billie cuts you off with another laugh. She opens the door for you, waiting as you get Milo ready to go.

“Wait…you haven’t even...?”

“You’re right. I haven’t, but maybe we can change that?”

You hurry through the front door so Billie doesn’t see you blushing, and she just follows you smirking the entire way to the car.

When the three of you arrive to your apartment building you have to resist the urge to run inside. There are a lot of people here, like usual, but you suddenly feel overwhelmed. You keep Milo close to you despite his excited attempts to run ahead of you, and you grab Billie’s hand without thinking. You go to pull it away because you didn’t ask, but Billie just holds yours tighter before following you into the building.

You head over to the elevator, not making eye contact with anyone as you press the button a little too hard. Billie frowns at this but she doesn’t say anything until you’re in the elevator with Milo practically running circles around you, he’s so excited. You’re too agitated to tell him to calm down and you just sigh as Billie squeezes your hand tighter.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You’re tense.”

You bite your lip as you think about whether or not you want to tell Billie what’s going on in your head. You just sigh before nodding and watching as you reach the second floor.

“A little bit. I just didn’t think coming here would be so���nerve-wracking. It’s stupid.”

Billie’s about to tell you that it’s not stupid at all, but the door opens on the third floor and you and Milo step aside to let whoever it is on. It’s a kid, maybe 10 years old who’s wearing his swimsuit. He looks vaguely familiar to you and you just smile as Milo’s tail starts smacking against the wall. You don’t notice immediately because you’re staring at the number 3 displayed on the wall waiting until you can get out, but Billie notices the amazed, baffled look on the boy’s face. The brunette is staring at Billie and she just smiles before reaching out to pet Milo.

The elevator finally dings as it arrives to your floor and you sigh in relief as the door opens. You hold Milo back as he tries to run out, and he whines as you shoot him a look.

“Milo stop it. Wait.”

You wait for the little boy to go first and then Billie before you walk out. You miss the small wave that Billie gives the boy who’s still staring at her in awe as you make your way down the hall. You grab your keys from your pocket and sigh when the lock clicks. The door swings open and you let Milo go and run to where ever he wants before looking around for Billie. She’s trailing behind and you realize that you’d been a little inattentive so you shoot her a smile.

“Sorry, Billie. Come on in.”

Billie did and you were quick to shut the door behind her and lock it. You are about to run to your room and start getting things together when you see Billie wander toward the kitchen. It reminds you that you’re still too tense to be your usual self and you sigh as you follow Billie into the kitchen.

“If you can find anything that you want, it’s yours. I haven’t gone shopping since…last week?”

Billie just smiles as she shakes her head at you. She had been heading over to Milo’s food and treats because she figured you needed them. She was going to try and collect it for you to take back to her house. You smile as Billie says this and you try to figure out what would be best. You stored it in a bin too big to lug around so you hurry to find a container that will carry enough to last the week.

“Do you have any bags, or...?”

Billie trails off as you shake your head and pull out a Tupperware container. You know that Milo will not hesitate to eat through the bag to get to his food and you don’t want him to poop out plastic again.

“Uh, here put it in this. It’s safer from him this way.”

Billie just nods before she opens Milo’s food and starts scooping it into the container.

“I’ll handle this. Go get your jeans.”

You laugh at this before getting on your tiptoes to kiss Billie in thanks. You pull away with a smile before turning and leaving the kitchen.

“Thanks, Billie.”

You pass Milo who is rolling around on the carpet in the living room on your way upstairs. You pull your phone out to look at your list before you go to your closet to grab your bag. You hurry because you need to get back to Billie’s house sooner rather than later. You’d left the cats alone which should be fine at this point, but they still needed to be checked on periodically. For this reason, you start stripping as you reach into your closet for a change of clothes. Despite it being warm out you pull on a pair of jeans, before wandering around aimlessly looking for the next item on your list. You haven’t decided what shirt you wanted yet and you’re still walking around half dressed when Billie finishes up in the kitchen.

She’s packed Milo’s food and some treats, but there wasn’t anything else that he really needed. So she wanders around a little before deciding to head upstairs and see if you needed help. She hadn’t expected you to be mostly done already, or to only be half-dressed when she showed up.

Billie knocks on the door frame since the door was open and you jump before turning around as you zip up your bag. You have everything you need but a damn shirt. You smile slightly as you wave Billie into the room. You turn back toward your dresser to grab a t-shirt. You’re going to be in the Billie’s house for the rest of the day. It’s not like it really matters what you wear.

“Come on in. I’m almost done.”

Billie smiles as she walks into the room and looks around for a moment. She’s never been in it before, but it was almost exactly what she expected. It was very clean and the bed had some of Milo’s fur on it.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

You smile and nod as you pull your shirt over your head and run to grab your phone off the bed. You check the list one last time before making sure that you have your charger and your computer too. You probably won’t use it much, but you want it just in case. You don’t want to have to use Billie’s when she’s so busy.

“Yeah, sorry. I just needed to decide what to wear.”

Billie frowns slightly at your apology before shaking her head. She isn’t sure why you feel the need to apologize so much when you’ve done nothing wrong. She walks towards you and reaches out to straighten your hair with a smile.

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N, but I like your decision.”

You smile a little before nodding to yourself. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything, but it was just a habit. It left your mouth sometimes before you even realized it. You let Billie play with your hair for a few seconds before you respond with a sigh.

“You’re right. Are you ready to go?”

You and Billie are back in the elevator with Milo a few minutes later. You’ve got your bag and Milo while Billie’s holding the bag with Milo’s food. You make it to the lobby without any trouble, but as you’re passing the front desk you remember that you haven’t checked your mail in a while. You sigh as you look to Billie who has noticed that you stopped and you shoot her a questioning look.

“I forgot to check my mail. Can meet you at the car?”

Billie just nods before she reaches out for Milo to take him with her. Instead, you give her your bag and hope that she doesn’t question it. She just adjusts what she’s holding to take your bag and you smile gratefully before turning toward the mailboxes. You’ll make this as quick as possible.

“I’ll be right there. Thank you.”

Billie just nods and heads outside as you hurry to check your mail. You grab your keys from your pocket checking to make sure Milo is sitting out of the way before opening it and checking to see what you have. You keep the couple of bills that you see, but put everything else back in the box for now. You’ll worry about it later.

You’re leaving the room and heading back toward the front doors when you spot someone that looks like Doug at the end of the hall. You don’t even bother to confirm that it’s him before you practically run outside. You feel your head swim, but you ignore it as you take a second to slow down once you’re outside to let Milo pee. You sigh before walking to where Billie’s parked and already waiting with the car running. You put Milo in the back seat, looking for his buckle before you remember it’s in your car. You’re frazzled and you’re afraid it shows when you get into the front seat next to Billie with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry about that, I’m ready now.”

Billie just shakes her head before shooting you a look that you don’t notice. You’re looking out the front of the car, specifically at your apartment building.

“What did I say about apologizing, Y/N?”

You sigh before cringing at your mistake as you try to calm down. You need to relax. It’s not like he’s going to attack you in broad daylight. You weren’t even sure it was him.

“So—Right. Thank you for helping me, Billie.”

Billie spends most of the drive home wondering what had happened. She had realized pretty quickly that you were anxious about going back to your apartment. She wasn’t exactly sure why until you wanted to keep Milo with you to check the mail. It seemed odd and as she was sitting in the car thinking about it, it hit her. She hadn’t even realized that you were worried about running into Doug again. How could she forget that this was the first time being at your apartment since it happened? She mentally kicks herself as she follows you into the house. She watches as you let Milo run free and stumble slightly as you try to take off your shoes.

“Are you alright?”

You hold back a sigh as you lean against the wall to keep yourself steady as you take off your other shoe. You turn to Billie with a frown. You had been feeling worse since you started worrying and now your head was practically pounding.

“My headache just got worse. It’s not a big deal, I just need to lie down.”

Billie frowns as she watches you head over to the couch absentmindedly dropping your bag on the way. She looks to the clock, realizing it’s too early for your next dose of medication. She still goes to get you water though before coming to sit beside you.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

You smile at Billie before shaking your head at her. There really isn’t anything else that she could do, but you do need to sleep. You lean forward and rest your head against her shoulder and she pulls you into a hug before you close your eyes with another sigh.

“Can I just sit here with you for a second?”

Billie smiles before pulling you closer with a nod. She almost starts to run her hand through your hair, but she figures that will make your headache worse. Instead, she merely sighs and shifts slightly so you’re both leaning against the couch. Billie listens to your breathing even out as you relax against her as the minutes pass. You’re almost completely on top of Billie by the time you fall asleep only ten minutes later.

You wake up around dinner time. You’re sure of this because it’s the sound of Milo scarfing down his food that rouses you from your sleep. You groan and sit up as you look around to see Milo’s tail sticking out from behind the counter. You take a second to sit and get acclimated to being up before you risk standing. You stop short; however, when you see the glass of water and the bottles on the table in front of you. You sigh before opening them and taking your pills before heading to the kitchen.

You find Billie standing at the counter watching Milo as he demolishes his food. You only look for a moment to see how much is left before giving up. You’re sure that Billie fed him the right amount, and if not, you don’t really care. You spoil your dog all the time.

“Did he wake you?”

You shake your head despite the fact that Milo had woken you up, but you ignore this fact since you have a better excuse. You smile as you meet Billie for a hug before stifling a yawn.

“No, I was just hungry. Have you eaten yet?”

Billie shakes her head as she places a kiss on your brow before checking the clock. You’d been asleep for about two hours and Billie was going to wake you up after walking Milo. She says this and you smile appreciatively before saying that you’ll go with her. Billie doesn’t say anything in response to this, instead she changes the subject.

“Are you feeling any better?”

You nod as you mention that you are and that you’d taken your meds. You look to Milo who is now finished eating and standing at your side watching you and Billie intently.

“I am thanks. I think I just got a stress headache from worrying so much.”

You pull away from Billie slightly as you say this, but you don’t move too far before you’re speaking again. You spare Milo a glance and scratch his head with a smile.

“I guess I was a little nervous about running into Doug again. I didn’t think-.”

You pause as you try to figure out what you were going to say.  You didn’t think that you wouldn’t consider what happened when you went to your apartment? That you wouldn’t be worried about seeing Doug and potentially getting hurt again? It seemed silly to say, but you had told yourself when you’d decided not to go to the police, that you’d handle it. That it would all be fine.

You suppose you haven’t really learned much since your dad died.

“Didn’t think what, Y/N?”

You didn’t realize how long you’d spaced out until Billie asks this. You turn back to her before shaking your head with an apology on the tip of your tongue. You stop short as something you haven’t heard in months comes to mind, and you hate yourself for cringing at the mere thought of her voice.

Don’t you dare apologize.

Billie feels you stiffen and move away from her, and she watches as your expression turns dark. She isn’t sure where your mind just went, but she doesn’t get a chance to ask before you’re speaking in a tone that betrays your calm demeanor.

“I didn’t really consider it, but it was fine. We didn’t see him.”

Billie didn’t get a chance to respond to this before you turn to Milo and tell him to go grab his leash. She expects you to just run off with him, but you stop after a couple of steps before sighing in defeat. You turn back to Billie before shooting her a guilty look. You don’t apologize but you do promise to talk about this later. You just need to calm down a little.  

“I’ll tell you Billie, I just need a minute.”

Part 17

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfic (Chapter II)

Summary: Chapter two is a little plot heavier than Chapter 1. Javier wakes up the next morning after the raid he had attended as a consultant for the DEA and the questions he avoided during the night are still very much unanswered and Isa, his wife, needs to know more about what’s going on. The second part of the chapter is in the past so we get to know how Javi got to be a consultant and how this affect his family life.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Domestic Javi!, fluff, implied sexy times. Spanish and thoughts in cursive, translations are between parenthesis right after the dialogue line.

A/N: Hey, thanks to everybody that liked and reblogued. I was a bit weary of uploading this ‘cos this fic feels more like a characters study than any other thing. I’m just fascinated by Javi, from this chapter plot will move faster. S.

Chapter 1

Double life

"Daddy, wake up" Elvira grabs her father's arm that rests languidly at the side of the bed and shakes it until he answers:

“Morning" his face smashed against the pillows and his brown hair disheveled

"Good morning" she kisses him on the cheek and stays really close to his face, still pretty much asleep Javi starts snorting softly again “Daddy wake up!”

"You're hungry?" Javier clears his throat and opens widely his eyes as to convince his body that it has to get up. Elvi grins at him, with those honey eyes and that crooked smile she is the cutest creature on earth.

"You lost another one" he points at her mouth

"Yeah, yesterday, it was moving really funny so mami convinced me to get it out. I didn't even cry!" She tells proudly

"Such a strong girl! Let's get you a good breakfast then, what do you want?"

She smirks devilish and looks over Javier’s shoulder to make sure her mother doesn’t hear, but she finds her laying on bed completely naked and she seems puzzled for a second

"Why is mummy naked?"

"Oh" Javier pushes the covers over Isa that sleeps soundly. "You want those sugary things...the captain..."

"Cap’n Crunch!" Elvira raises her small arms excited

"Yeah, let's get those"

Javier adjusts his underwear under the sheets making sure everything is in place and gets out of bed. He lifts Elvira to his chest while she giggles.

"I love you, daddy" she holds his face on his little hands and he thinks his heart is about to explode.

"I love you too" Javier kisses her forehead, resting his child's head on his just for a second. He feels how the tangles around his heart become undone with her small, warm body against his. Everything seems kinder, happier, like if all of the sudden sunshine had pierced him deep inside where he hid his fears, regrets and pain.

He smells her hair for a second and then leaves her gently on the ground

"Let's eat"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The light between the curtains is like a knife to her eyes even under the covers. Her body is exhausted, her muscles relaxed and unwilling to cooperate to get her up. Isabel had heard her daughter’s laughter but thought that Javier could handle the situation and make up for the time he had expend who knows where the day before.

She doesn’t complain about being busy all the time with Elvira, she actually really likes it and is dreading the moment when summer will be over and she’ll have to spend the day alone with Elvi being at school. But every day she finishes the daily routines tired and instantly falling asleep when she goes to bed, after juggling between doing the chores and entertaining her daughter. It has been months since Javier’s head was elsewhere.

Knowing she is not gaining any more sleep, she gets up. The heat of Texas comes through the glass windows and she feels that even as naked as she is she could melt.

Isa puts on one of the big, old, soft t-shirts that Javier rarely uses and a pair of his shorts. Wearing his clothes, with his scent still lingering on them, is one small solace she finds when he’s away. She takes her nightgown and panties and throws them in the laundry bin, seeing Javier‘s clothes from last night, she grabs them and inspects the pockets before throwing it with the rest of clothes. She finds a few coins, a pen and a half emptied Marlboro packet that she squeezes on her hand. Maldito veneno (Damned poison)

At the kitchen table, Elvira is telling every single detail of her pool day at the neighbor’s house that Javier had missed. When Isa arrives, she hugs her daughter from behind and kisses her head before grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen counter.

"Look, daddy prepared breakfast" she says stuffing her mouth with those multicolored cereals.

"Oh, I see, he grabbed a bowl, poured the cereal and the milk and voilà." She kneels beside her but is smiling directly at Javier. “Daddy of the year” she raises her cup and Javi smacks his lips but says nothing.

"No me diste los buenos días, princesa" (You didn’t say good morning to me, princess) Isabel holds Elvira’s hair and starts to untangle her mane with her fingers.

"Buenos días, mami" she kisses her leaving a sticky mark on her skin.

"After that you will eat a piece of fruit, me oiste?"

"Sí" she smiles engulfing another full spoon too big for her little mouth .

"And I don't get a good morning?" Javier adds looking at his wife over the cup of black coffee.

Isabel walks slowly towards him and brushes her lips on his forehead. She opens her right hand in front of him, the Marlboro packet squished inside.

"Morning"

With a dramatic gesture, she opens the trash can and throws the plastic packet angrily. Javi observes her but says nothing.

"You're mad at daddy?" Elvira asks looking between the two her little face concerned.

"A little" Isa responds

"Why?" Her little voice breaks

"I misbehaved. I didn't listen to your mother" Javier answers and pinches his kid chubby cheek softly “That’s why you have to listen to her always”

"Have you apologized?" Elvira leaves the bowl aside as to fully focus on this pressing matter and crosses her arms over the table

"I have, many times" Javier faces his wife with a smirk

"Twice" she clarifies “and they're not enough"

"Never" Javier sips coffee from his cup and winks at his wife. Elvira looks at them confused.

"Mami if he has apologized I think you have to forgive him"

“Yeah, I guess I have to" Isabel takes a sit at Javier's right side and holds his hand on hers. The simple golden ring in both their hands makes her feel a pinch on her heart, she was so young and so scared when they got married not knowing what she could expect from him and, and on top of that, having a newborn baby that demanded all her attention.

Now, 6 years later she can even begin to express how fiercely she loves her daughter and how all the sacrifices she made were all worthy for her beautiful baby.

Javier is another thing. Sometimes she thinks of him as the sea, something you can see, touch and be submerged in, but in the end there is a depth you are not able to understand. There are things that lie on the bottom of his heart and mind that she is not welcome to visit. And she loves him, and has an ardent passion and need for him but she feels as if he’s slipping through her fingers every time she tries to hold him.

"Can I finish breakfast watching TV, please?" Elvi’s question gets Isa out of her thoughts.

"Yes, but grab an apple"

The little girl jumps out of her chair already chanting some song she knows from her favorite cartoon show.

"So what was the operation that you had last night?"

Isa usually asks him about his job every morning and Javi always answers briefly without many details, mainly because he is not that interested but when he decided to counsel for the police, she started to insist more, trying to calm her worries, but Isabel grows more and more anxious with his vague answers. She had met him after leaving the DEA, and though he hadn’t told her about his life in Colombia, she knows that Javi was a broken man, lost in dark memories. In those six years of marriage he had been better, he was still the same, but he smiled more, was kinder, more open. But the shadow of his old self lurks through the house and Isa feels how her anxiety twists her stomach watching his husband crumble before her eyes.

"There were a few trucks passing the borders, they suspected they were hiding drugs” he finished his coffee and casually eats cereal from the box

"Why on earth would you be there at the moment they caught the transport? I mean, why were you on the raid?"

"You’re asking if I was ever in danger. The answer is no, I'm here, am I not?" Javi took her hand that still holds him and kisses her knuckles.

"Yes, you are, but my question is..."

"But" he sighs

"You're smoking again; you are not sleeping quite right. You think I haven't noticed? What is going on?"

"I'm fine"

"You're stressed"

"I said I'm fine"

"Then why are you back to the old habits?"

"You really are going to just drink a coffee for breakfast?"

"Don't change the conversation, Peña"

"Look, there's nothing to worry about. I was just there to help them out since I’m experienced” he turns the chair closer to her and poses his hands over her knees softly caressing her with the pads of his fingers “But everything is fine”

"Alright" she concedes "so is it done? The operation?" She looks at him from under her eyelashes

"I don't know, maybe they need me a few more times"

She’s about to say something when he presses his lips against hers and gets up saying "I'm going to see if I can repair the AC, it's fucking hot in here"

"Language" Isa says before he leaves the kitchen.

She finishes the coffee her gaze fixed on the trash can where she has thrown the cigarettes. Too nervous to eat anything she starts cleaning up the kitchen. The lasagna from last night still intact on the counter, the repetitive songs on the TV is loud and she feels the headache coming.

“Elvi turn it down, please!” The girl ignores her the first time, and a second...and a third time.

“¡Elvira Peña, baja la tele ahora mismo!” (Elvira Peña, turn down the TV right now!) She screams coming to the living room.

The kid pouts and turns it down looking angrily at her; the apple she took is still intact by her side “And eat your fruit!”

Gosh, this is what I’ve become, the annoying wife and the tiring mum

Javier doesn’t know many things, but one thing that is always true is that shit follows him like a dog after a bone at every step of his life. After all the chaos that occurred with Cali and him leaving the DEA, he had spent a few month with Chucho back in Laredo. But soon enough, the atmosphere grew thicker consuming the air in his lungs and he woke up every day sweating and out of breath. Dreams of blood were leaking from the darkest parts of his memory polluting his nights.

“Mijo, ¿qué pasó allá?” (Son, what happened there?)his father asked every time and he found himself out of words. Not because he hadn’t them in him, but out of fear that if he began speaking the words would choke him and the disappointment he’d see on his father’s eyes. If they only knew he thought. If they only knew the things I did.

So after a time, he had to leave home again. It was better for both of them to be parted. Javier found the most boring job out there with his skills: Consulting companies that imported and exported things from Latin America. He translated documents, made calls in Spanish, and basically died a little every day in an office job, with bad coffee from a machine and many cigarettes each day to cope with the absolute weariness.

But again, shit followed him. StarsTextile Exports INC, nothing more than a normal company that passed, apparently, textile goods from South America to the US but you just had to dig a little to see the shady numbers they managed, a tangled list of companies’ names and banks in various tax havens. When he untangled all that mess what was left was a clear link to the biggest Cartel in Mexico. Shit. He even thought for a moment to let it pass, to just turn a blind eye like everybody did. But after many sleepless nights, he made the call.

“Agent Murphy”

“Hi, Steve, it’s Javier” he said softly suddenly feeling a little embarrassed of the time that had passed without calling his friend.

“Jav?!” Steve exclaimed “it’s been a long time...H-h-ow are you?”

“Fine, fine, you?”

“Great, I’m in Miami. But why you call me at the office? You alright?” he asked with a concerned tone.

“Yeah, it’s...well, maybe it’s nothing. But I need you to take a look at something”

“What exactly do you want me to check?”

“Some documents, I’ll send them to you”

“Great. Where are you now? Still at your pops?”

“No, well. I’m in Texas but I live with my wife.”

“Wait! what! you said wife?!” he exclaimed

“Yeah, yeah. Long story”

Javier had to hear his old college laugh for a good five minutes before he could say another word.

“I need to meet her. Gosh, I can’t believe it. Connie is gonna die when I tell her”

“Yeah...”

“Listen, I know you didn’t want to talk about you getting out and everything but I’d love to talk if you want. You know that...”

“I’ll send the documents right away, okay? You can call me at this number whenever you have any conclusion” he interrupted.

“Alright, Javi. It’s good to know from you. I’ll check those out”

Immediately after hanging up the phone, Javier felt like shit. He hadn’t contacted Steve, a good friend, in a long time. He knows his big out of the DEA would be a matter of a long conversation with him, a conversation he doesn’t want to have as he doesn’t want to tell all that to Chucho or Isa. Those days were gone, that crap was far away, he repeats to himself knowing that his memories have dark claws that hang on him like his shadow, reopening wounds he thought were healed.

After that brief phonecall, more followed. Steve and Javi found a perfect hour to talk when both Connie and Olivia and Isa and Elvi were asleep. They chatted about the documents, clearly there was something weird and Steve, though he could not confide anything to a former agent, agreed to disclosure tiny details. The DEA was behind StarsTextile Exports from months, but anytime they came close, they would hide again with dubious moves like changing company names, CEO’s and corporate headquarters.

“I see your instinct is still intact, Jav. You should still be with us” lamented Steve in one of their midnight conversations

“Yeah...but what can we do? nothing” Javi huffed

“We’ll see, I keep you informed”

“Yeah, thanks” he agreed but a little voice inside him replied why do you care? why do you still care?

“So, can you tell me about your wife? Connie keeps asking me for more information” Steve asked

“Her name is Isabel. She’s younger than me”

“Nice! Is she pretty?” the agent jested

“She is. We met at a bar; she was bartending for the summer while she was off college. I had just arrived after Cali” he explained

“She must be quite special. I mean, Jav...you left another at the altar” Steve replied shyly

“Well, that was another time and yes, she is...she is...a good woman and a good mother” Javi lay down on the sofa and turned his face towards the aisle, he could see the dim light of Isa’s nightstand lamp still on. She was always waiting for him to come to bed.

“How long did you wait to have the kid?”

“We didn’t. She got pregnant unexpectedly and then we got married” Javi sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh! I don’t want to be indiscreet, but that’s why you married her?” Steve muttered

“Kinda, but as I said she’s an amazing woman”

“Are you happy?” Steve cut him

“What is this? Are you my therapist now?” Javi chuckled

“No! no! just Connie, well, Connie and I, we worried, we wanted to know if things were okay with you. It’s been a long time, Javi, and the things we saw... well, we’ve been through some shit”

“I’m fine” his voice cracked, the more he said those words the less meaning they got

“Fine, God, Javi Peña, a family man, I still can’t believe it”

Javi smiled

“Yeah me too”

“But it’s nice, it keeps you grounded. Now you have a place to come back”

“Right...”

And also thousands of questions, expectations, and nowhere to hide when all I want to do is be alone, he thought but didn’t say another word.

“It’s late and I don’t want to wake up the girls” he said before biding goodbye to Steve and promising to keep in touch.

A week after that conversation, Steve told him about the operation that the DEA was preparing at the frontier near Laredo. And last night, he rejoined the agents just as a consultant. But again shit followed him and they asked him to be present and advice in case they needed him.

Even though he was far up on a hill with a few other agents waiting for the transport to arrive, he heard clearly the gunshots and they left him with a terrible headache and a familiar yet horrible ring in his ears. He felt his heart beating hard and fast inside his chest. The rush, the thrill and the fear all very well-known to the old Javier and he could sense a part of him suddenly awake, begging for more, the tingling sensation on his muscles that he was doing what he was made for. It scared him. He had decided that he was through it all. He could not be back, but there he was, lecturing those agents, finding evidences where they looked clueless. He was made for this, and though he didn’t like the praise, he hadn’t felt as good about himself until that night.

But the DEA asked for more, always does. He had given them his all and they paid him with lies. But again he said yes to keep on going with this partnership and teach the field agents and give some advice on how you take down a cartel. Like if we actually won the war on drugs, like if we actually made things better

With all these, he kept Isa in the dark, giving just vague answers about who call him late at night and about what was going on at his job.

The look in her amber colored eyes breaks his heart with each lie he tells her. She had met a broken man in Laredo many summers ago, he never said anything really specific about his time in Colombia, but Isa was perceptive enough to see his cracks and shadows and everything he wanted to hide. She had lighted his life like a timid candle in the night, opening the darkest rooms of his mind and inundating them with her presence and comfort and domestic life.

There was no space for the old Javi, always running and burying his demons in alcohol, sex and cigarettes, in this new reality there were bills to pay, school supplies, family duties and morning conversations.

And at that moment, “family guy” Javi and the “ex-DEA but again working for the DEA” Javi were battling inside his mind making him feel like he was living a double life.

Half of him wishes to stay, go to the pool with Elvi, Sundays at his father’s house and hold Isa tight every night; but there again, the air grows thicker, the days are long and he misses the rush, the thrill, the only way of life he had known for so long.

[bangtaninink]

i dream while looking at you

a continuation of around

[ Prom did not go the way I expected but I’m so grateful that this little nugget always knows how to cheer me up 😌 thank you, @JEON97_❤️ ]

pjm_13: love you guys!! kimtaetae: 💕 MY FAVES 💕

                                                     〰️

You chuckle softly to yourself as you scroll through comments on your Instagram after watching the video of you and Jeongguk dancing one more time, free hand submerging your cereal in the milk with your spoon.

“Good morning, _____.”

“Hey, Mr. Jeon,” you say, bowing your head in greeting as Jeongguk’s dad turns on the coffee machine, walking to the fridge to pull out a carton of milk.

“I didn’t realise you’d slept over. You kids have a good time last night?”

“Ah. Well… I guess it got better towards the end, yeah.”

“That’s good.”

Yawning, Jeongguk shuffles into the kitchen, scratching his cheek, bedhead wild and untameable.

“Hey, dad,” he says, sniffling.

“Morning, son,” his dad replies, chuckling as he ruffles Jeongguk’s hair, mug of coffee in hand as he walks out to retreat to the living room.

“What’re we eating?” Jeongguk asks, reaching into the fridge for the orange juice, taking a sip straight from the jug.

“Cereal,” you reply, looking back down at your phone when a new notification pops up.

“Ooh. Some gourmet shit today. Fancy.”

You snort and glance up at Jeongguk as you shake your head, scooping up another spoonful of cereal; it hovers just below your lips, however, when you look back down at your phone to see a barrage of messages coming through from Hyunwoo. You sigh and flip your phone over, instead pushing your soaked cereal around the bowl.

Never one to miss any of your cues, Jeongguk puts down the cereal box in his hand, rounding the kitchen bench to come up behind you, picking up your phone and easily unlocking it, scrolling through the messages before he’s taking a photo of himself, middle finger in the air, and sending it in reply to Hyunwoo before setting it down on the bench again, returning to his breakfast.

“You wanna go to the arcade today?” he asks, pouring milk. “Or are you scared I’m gonna smoke you again?”

“Hey,” you say, frowning. “You only smoke me at the basketball shots. I still beat you at DDR every single time.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue, saying, “fine. No arcade then. Pillow fort?”

“Guk, we haven’t built a pillow fort in years.”

“And your point is?”

“You literally sleep on one pillow like a freak. I pretty sure there’s a dent on your arm from where I had to put my head last night.”

“So we’ll do it in your room,” he replies, shrugging and eating a spoonful of cereal.

“Fine. Bring your hard drive so we can watch some good stuff.”

                                                     〰️

You lie back against the pile of pillows, watching the way the blanket above your head ripples as Jeongguk adjusts it to stay raised, humming as he ties the last of the comforters secure. You shuffle over when he crawls in, groaning once he’s laid back down beside you and settled in.

“Watch a movie or order chicken first?” he asks, hand searching for his phone in the sea of pillows.

“Mmm, order the chicken first. We can turn on the movie once it’s here,” you say.

“And we’re definitely not inviting Taehyung and Jimin over, right?”

“Why? Do you want to?”

“That’s a negative.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t really feel like socialising with anyone else, you know?”

You roll over with a soft sigh, hiding your face in Jeongguk’s arm as you leave him to order the fried chicken, not noticing the way he tenses briefly before relaxing again, music playing from his Bluetooth speaker in the corner of the fort.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” he asks, putting his phone down on his chest; you shrug.

“You choose. I don’t really care.”

“So, Insidious?” You lift your head long enough to glare at Jeongguk before lowering it back down onto his arm, frowning when his arm shakes as he laughs. “What? You said you don’t care!”

“Pick whatever you want, but if I piss my pants, you’re cleaning it up,” you say, huffing.

“Alright, alright. No Insidious then. The Conjuring?”

“If it has to be a horror movie, fine then.”

                                                     〰️

With your eyes shut tightly, you pat around to try and find the gummy bears, too scared to open your eyes to look for them properly. Jeongguk watches you, amused as he eats potato chips, barely phased by the sounds coming from your laptop, eventually taking pity on you and handing you the bag.

“You’re missing the best part, you know,” he says quietly, corners of his lips twitching.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” you reply, shuffling back to sit behind Jeongguk, taking advantage of his size and using his shoulders to block your view.

“Come on. Just try. Just a few seconds won’t hurt. It’s just a movie, remember?”

Eyes still shut, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself and attempting to calm your nerves. Jeongguk watches with amusement as you lift your head up off his back and slowly peer over his shoulder. You count to three in your head, preparing yourself to open your eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Immediately, you see a possessed doll on screen, and you make no attempt to even try and restrain the loud scream you let out. Despite his loud laughter, Jeongguk still wraps his arms around you when you scramble into his lap and hide your face in his chest, laughing even louder when you hit his arms over and over again.

“I hate this! I hate this so much. I hate it, Guk. Turn it off,” you say, whining into his shirt.

“Okay, okay. Alright. Hold on,” he says, laughter dying down into softer chuckles as he tightens his hold on you before leaning forward to navigate off the movie and shut your laptop. “It’s off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Cross my heart.”

With a loud sigh, you tilt your head back, slowly opening your eyes to look at Jeongguk, holding back a glare.

“We should’ve just watched Iron Man again,” you say, frowning.

“I’ll put it on in a sec then,” Jeongguk says, smiling softly as he fixes your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear. You shake your head against his chest. “No?”

“Mmm, I don’t feel like watching a movie anymore.”

“Mmm. What do you wanna do then?” You shrug, not moving off of his lap. “Should we go for a drive?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Nowhere. Doesn’t really matter. Then we can come back here, order some pizza, and go to sleep.”

“…okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nod and sniffle, letting Jeongguk roll you both out of the fort, laughing as he picks you up and grabs his hoodie from your bed before walking downstairs.

                                                     〰️ 

You spend a majority of the drive quiet, thankful that Jeongguk doesn’t push you to speak, letting the music fill the car as he drives directionless around the city. When he pulls up to a convenience store to buy more snacks, you stay curled up in the passenger seat wearing his hoodie, watching from the window as Jeongguk fills a basket with snacks and drinks.

“You like the wasabi flavoured chips, right?” Jeongguk says, putting the bag down at your feet.

“What?!” you ask, sitting up suddenly; he turns to you with a grin, holding his shoulders back as he stops himself from laughing. You roll your eyes and sigh, pulling up the hood of his hoodie to hide your smile. “You’re an idiot.”

“Man, and I even got you two bags.” Jeongguk clicks his tongue and pulls back onto the road, resting his arm on the car door as he hides a smile behind his fist.

                                                     〰️

Eventually, Jeongguk pulls up to a cliff looking out towards the city, reclining his chair back and yours. He reaches for the bag of snacks, handing you a can of lemonade and a bag of candy, before reaching for his can of Coke and chips.

“I can’t believe we’re graduating so soon,” he sighs, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Have you heard back from all the colleges you applied for?” you ask, pulling out a gummy snake and holding it out to him.

Jeongguk leans over to eat it straight from your grasp, saying, “I’m just waiting for one more. I’m at two acceptances, one waitlist, and three refusals. I think I’m gonna go with KNSU though. You?”

“I’ve heard back from all of them, yeah.”

“And?”

“One acceptance, two waitlists, and two refusals, so, uh… I guess it’s Hongik for me.”

“Damn. So we’re gonna be on opposite sides of the city?” Jeongguk sighs, sinking down in his chair. “Wait nah. We’ll be fine. It’ll be, what, an hour away with the buses and subway lines? And I have my car.”

“Let’s go on a trip,” you say, nonchalant as you take a sip of your lemonade.

“Huh? A trip?”

“Yeah. After graduation, and before we go to college.”

“Just us two?” he asks, amused smile playing on his lips. You shrug, reaching for another gummy snake.

“I mean if you wanna, you can invite the rest.”

“Pfft. Hell no. I’m not spending an entire trip with them.” Jeongguk takes another sip of his Coke, burping quietly before resting his hands behind his head. “Where’re we going?”

“We don’t have to go that far, but it’d be nice to get out of the city for a little while before I start crying about the prospect of being a college freshman.”

“You’re the valedictorian,” Jeongguk says, chuckling. “You’re gonna be graduating top of the class. What’re you worried about? You’re gonna do fine.”

“I know but… it’s still scary,” you say, picking at the label on your drink. “Like, for the first time since fourth grade, we’re gonna be going to different schools, and not living in the same neighbourhood. We’re not gonna be next door neighbours, and I’m not gonna be able to run to your room to take a nap in peace when dad’s decided to bring his golf buddies over for lunch.”

“I mean… you could technically run to KNSU from Hongdae…”

“You know what I mean, Guk.”

“Yeah, I do. But, hey, it could be worse.”

You scoff, saying, “how?”

“Well, I mean, you could be going to college in a different city – or a different country. God knows you’re the only one in our year that would be accepted by an overseas college, _____.” Jeongguk shrugs, turning to look at you. “But instead, here you are, staying in Seoul to appease little ol’ me.”

“Please. I would never even consider applying for an overseas college – not unless you were coming with me.”

You put your drink down in the middle console, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them, staring out at the sky. Eventually, you get lost in your own thoughts for a little while, so you don’t get to see the way Jeongguk looks at you as if he’s got something on the tip of his tongue, like he has words he’s forcing himself to hold back.

“We’re gonna be okay… right, Guk?”

He doesn’t properly process what you’ve said until you turn to look at him.

“Yeah,” he answers finally. “We will be. Promise.”

                                                     〰️

“Hey, kids!” Taehyung says, coming in between you and Jeongguk as you walk in through the school gates, arms slung around both of your shoulders. “Did you guys have a good weekend?”

“Hey, Tae,” you chuckle. “Yeah, we did. What about you?”

“Oh, we had a great time. Didn’t we, Chim?”

You and Jeongguk turn to look at Jimin as he comes up beside you, eyebrows raised with surprise.

“Good morning!” he says, grinning.

“Your hair is fucking orange,” Jeongguk says, deadpan.

“Sure is, dude.”

“Why?”

“Why the hell not?”

“How good is it?” Taehyung says, smiling proudly as he drops his arms from you and Jeongguk’s shoulders to run his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “That’s all me. Ain’t no way we’re paying fifty thousand Won to have someone else dye our hair now. If either of you need a colour change, you let me know.”

“_____?”

The four of you turn, watching as Hyunwoo stands a few feet away from the group, holding the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

“Fuck off, dickwad,” Jeongguk says, instinctively shifting closer to you.

“_____, can I talk to you real quick?” Hyunwoo asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why?” Taehyung asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “You don’t deserve a second of _____’s time.”

“I only need a second,” Hyunwoo says.

“One,” Jeongguk counts. “Done. We’re going. Come on, _____.”

“What do you want, Hyunwoo?” you ask, sighing. “Make it quick, ‘cause I have a council meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Can we… maybe go somewhere more private?” he asks, suddenly aware of other students looking his way.

“No. Anything you wanna say to me, you say it to them too – especially Jeongguk. Lord knows he’ll come find you anyway if he doesn’t know where I am.” Jeongguk scoffs, smirking. “So say whatever you need to say so I can go to my meeting.”

“Oh. Okay, well, um… I just wanna, um, say that I’m sorry for what I did, and I hope you can forgive me. The spiked punch really got to me—” Taehyung and Jimin roll their eyes. “I just um, I really hope we can move past this and graduate together.”

It’s quiet for a moment, everyone waiting for your response.

“Wow,” you eventually say, crossing your arms over your chest. “That was fucking pathetic.”

Taehyung and Jimin burst out laughing while Jeongguk wraps his arm around your shoulders as you scoff.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to the meeting room,” Jeongguk says, disguising the way he shoulders Hyunwoo by adjusting his hold on his bag.

“Bye, Hyunwoo,” Taehyung and Jimin singsong, waving over their shoulders.

                                                     〰️

“Yo, _____! Over here!” Jimin calls out, waving his arm to grab your attention.

“I can’t believe I made it in time,” you say, laughing as you take a seat between Taehyung and Jimin.

“Look. Knowing Jeongguk, he probably would’ve held off the entire swim meet from starting until you got here,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes. “I mean, look at him. The kid is literally sighing with relief right now.”

You turn towards the pool just in time to see Jeongguk’s shoulders drop as he smiles up at you, and you laugh as you wave at him.

“You got this! ” you mouth, hands cupped around your lips; Jeongguk shrugs smugly in return, grinning at the way you seem to laugh harder at his response.

“God, I can’t believe the guy made it to nationals,” Jimin says. “I mean, I can, but it’s another thing to actually be here.”

“Nah, I feel you. I thought I was gonna throw up at the semis from how nervous I was,” you say, shaking your head.

“Yeah, I don’t get how he’s so calm about it all,” Taehyung says. “Even Coach Lee looks like he’s about to shit his pants.”

“Probably because there are scouts here.”

“For what?”

“The national team for the Olympics, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh shit,” Jimin says, eyes wide. “Jeongguk could be an Olympic athlete?”

“Yeah, dude,” you say.

“Oh shit. I’m gonna be able to say I’m friends with an Olympic athlete.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, getting comfortable as the swim meet begins, cameras being directed back and forth between the crowd and the edge of the pool where the swimmers are all lined up.

                                                     〰️

Almost an hour and a half later, after having won first place in both the two hundred metre medley and the four hundred metre relay with three other members of your high school’s swim team, Jeongguk steps up to his starting block one last time for his final race, adjusting his swim cap.

“Holy fuck, I’m so nervous,” Taehyung says, wringing his hands. “I almost don’t wanna watch.”

“Dude I feel like I’m gonna shit my pants,” Jimin groans, running his fingers through his hair.

“He’s got this, you guys,” you say, unable to stop your fingers from fidgeting with the distressing on your jeans. “This is the Jeon Jeongguk we’re talking about.”

“Right, right. You’re right. Fuck, I’m gonna piss my pants. Oh my God.”

Everyone watches as Jeongguk steps up to the starting block, returning the stoic nod Coach Lee sends his way when they meet eyes. You hear a few other students from your high school groan with anxiety as the commentator calls for the swimmers to get ready, the cheers almost immediately erupting as the buzzer sounds and the swimmers dive into the water.

As chaotic and hectic the crowd is around you, you can’t seem to join Taehyung and Jimin in standing up just yet to cheer on Jeongguk, watching frozen in your seat as he swims lap after lap in the long pool. You gnaw at your bottom lip as he remains neck and neck with the swimmer two lanes down from him, the two of them going back and forth in the lead.

“Shit! How many more laps?” Taehyung asks, looking up at the screens above the pool frantically.

“Three. He has three,” you answer, suddenly rising to your feet, hands automatically rising to cup around your mouth. “You’ve got this, Guk!”

As he turns for his second to last lap, you glance over at the other lanes, gasping when you see the other swimmer turns just a fraction of a second slower than Jeongguk, putting him in the lead.

“Oh my God,” you say, Jimin and Taehyung grabbing your hands as the three of you come to an almost complete stop, watching Jeongguk swim. “Oh my God.”

“Oh my fucking God,” Jimin mutters, squeezing your hand tighter as Jeongguk flips one last time to enter his final lap.

“He’s gonna do it,” Taehyung says excitedly. “He’s gonna fucking win.”

The three of your hold your breaths as Jeongguk swims, wide eyes shifting frantically from the screens, to the pool, and back again. You watch as the timers stand leaning over the starting blocks, stopwatches in hand, squeezing Taehyung and Jimin’s hands impossibly tight as you stare to see which one moves first.

You gasp loudly when you see the timer by Jeongguk’s standing block raise their hand, your screams piercingly loud when you look up at the screens that display Jeongguk’s name in first place.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Fucking YES! He did it! He won!” Jimin cries out, jumping up and down with you and Taehyung in the stands in each other’s embrace.

The stadium erupts into deafening cheers from every direction, not a single person left sitting in their seats as the swimmers’ heads rise from under the water, all eyes shifting directly to the screens above the pool.

You watch Jeongguk pull off his goggles and swim cap, squinting slightly to look at the results, and when he realises that he’s won, his eyes grow wide as he turns in the water to find you in the crowd.

He smiles as he pants and catches his breath, eyes full of adoration as he watches you clapping frantically between Jimin and Taehyung, who are still embracing you, pausing only to wipe your tears. He reaches over the lane dividers to shake hands with the swimmers in the lanes beside him, exchanging words of congratulations before they swim to the edge of the pool to climb out.

Having built a reputation of never showing any emotion, Jeongguk is surprised when Coach Lee wraps his arms around him in a tight hug as soon as he’s out of the pool, laughing as he hears him say, “you son of a bitch. You did it!” whispered in his ear.

Coach Lee loosens his embrace when he sees reporters approach Jeongguk, all cameras pointed at the national champion, leaving him to answer their questions while he returns to his seat, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief.

                                                     〰️ 

“Let’s give all our swimmers a big round of applause!” the commentator announces, arm directed towards the swimmers where they’ve all lined up at one end of the pool side. “I’d now like to request our chairman, Mr. Choi, to please join me to present the medals to our winning swimmers.”

You all watch as the winning swimmers from different schools are presented with their medals, laughing at the way Taehyung and Jimin whoop every time a medal is hung from the neck of someone from your school’s team.

“And, finally, our men’s five-hundred metre freestyle,” the commentator says. “In third place, for the bronze medal, swimmer Yoo Kiyong.” The swimmer bows to the audience and the chairman, lowering his head to receive his medal. “In second place, for the silver medal, swimmer Seo Minhyuk.” The next swimmer follows suit, lowering his head to receive his medal. “And in first place, with the new national men’s record, for the gold medal, swimmer Jeon Jeongguk.”

You and the rest of the students from your school erupt into loud cheers again, standing up in your seats and clapping excitedly as Jeongguk chuckles and bows, receiving his medal.

“Jeon, as this year’s gold medalist, if you’d like to say a few words,” the commentator says, arm directed at the microphone.

You all quiet down and take your seats again as Jeongguk approaches the microphone, clearing his throat.

“Hi, um, I’ll keep this as short as possible, because I know you’ve all been here for quite a while,” he says, bowing his head. “I’d like to thank Coach Lee first of all, for his never ending support and guidance, not just towards me, but to the rest of the team here today – especially us seniors. I think I speak on behalf of all of us when I say that we appreciate everything you’ve done for us, even if you make us do all those extra laps so early in the morning.” The crowd laughs, watching as your school’s team groans with recollection. “I’d like to thank everyone from my school who’s come here tonight to cheer me and the rest of the team on. It means a lot to me that you guys have travelled all this way just to watch us swim. Um, I’d also like to thank my parents and my older brother who are in the stands tonight as well.” The crowd applauses as Jeongguk points out his family, sitting in the row in front of you. “Thank you especially for driving me to all the early morning practices – on the weekends too – when I was younger and couldn’t drive. Maybe not so much you though, hyung, because I got dragged to all your early Sunday morning soccer games anyway.” The crowd laughs again as Jeongguk’s older brother pulls a teasing face at Jeongguk. “Um, but, uh, I’d mostly like to thank my best friend if I can, who’s also here tonight – just as she has been every single time I’ve ever had a meet.” Taehyung and Jimin immediately start to wave their arms and whoop, pointing in your direction with wide grins. Shy, you swat their hands away, feeling your cheeks warming when everyone and the cameras turn to look at you. “You’re my most favourite person in the world, and I really don’t know what the hell I’d do without you. You’re literally the reason I even started swimming in the first place, and you’ve turned up to every single swim meet and practice, rain or shine, and even when you had the flu that one time. Even though I might not always say it or express it properly, I love you so much, and I appreciate you so much, _____.” The crowd coos in response, and you struggle to not shrink back into your chair, embarrassed at all the attention. “Also, Tae and Chim, I guess you guys are cool too.”

“I love you, Jeon Jeongguk!” Taehyung calls out, standing immediately as he points in Jeongguk’s direction.

“I love you too, Jeongguk-sshi!” Jimin says, following suit.

“Um, that’s all I wanted to say, I guess. Thank you to everyone again, and uh, I hope I get to see you all again in the near future.”

The crowd cheers and applauds as Jeongguk bows one more time before stepping back to join the rest of the school’s team, smiling as a few of the other swimmers pat his shoulder again in congratulations. You roll your eyes and shake your head as Taehyung and Jeongguk sit back down before looking back towards the front as the chairman gives his final speech for the night, smiling shyly when you meet Jeongguk’s eyes.

                                                     〰️

“Alright, alright! Make way for the King and Queen, please!” Taehyung says, arms open wide as a crowd forms around you and Jeongguk as you walk in through the gates, Jimin on the other side doing the same.

“Eww, I hate that,” you say, laughing.

“But do we lie though?” Jimin asks, grinning. “A national gold medalist and the Student Body President are walking in. These kids need to show some respect and not be so annoying.”

“I wish you’d do the same, honestly,” Jeongguk snorts, fixing the strap of his bag as he shoves his hand into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hey, man. You love us. You said so in your speech on Friday night,” Taehyung says, frowning.

“No, I said I love _____. I said I guessed you guys were cool.”

“Hey. It’s still a win in my book.”

“Oh, hold on. I need to go to the library and print off my speech for the assembly later,” you say, swinging your bag around to look for your USB in one of the pockets.

“Ugh. It’s not a long speech, is it? Principal Song’s speeches drag on for so damn long, and I gotta use all my energy to resist falling asleep during his speech today ‘cause I don’t want detention on my last day here. So I swear to God, if you’re speech makes me fall asleep, _____...”

“Hey, chill out. My speech isn’t that long, Tae.”

“Thank Go—”

“It’s only, what, ten pages long, Guk?”

“Yeah. And that’s already an improvement from the fifteen she had after the first draft was done,” Jeongguk says, nodding.

“What?” Taehyung cries. “Wait, come back! Are you guys serious?!”

                                                     〰️

“I’d now like to invite our Student Body President, _____, to give her final address,” Principal Song says, walking back to his seat at the side of the stage.

At the podium, you send a teasing wink in Taehyung’s direction, whose face falls at the sight of the papers in your hand, Jeongguk and Jimin laughing quietly behind their fists.

“Thank you, sir,” you begin. “I’d like to begin by congratulating the senior cohort for making it to their last day of high school, and I’d like to extend my thanks and appreciation to the teaching and support staff here for their hard work and perseverance throughout our time here.”

Taehyung sighs a breath of relief as your speech continues, thankful that your speech is the complete opposite of boring, if the laughter from the students is anything to go by.

Despite the hard, plastic chair he’s sitting in, Jeongguk is completely comfortable, a little slouched, hands in his pocket, eyes glued to you up at the podium as you ooze confidence and all-round contentment as you speak. He doesn’t really need to listen to the speech – he’s read and heard it already, of course – so he finds himself instead getting lost in the sound of your voice, and the twinkle in your eyes, and the curl of your hair, and the rosy pink of your lip tint. His mind starts to wander a little as he continues to watch you speak to the student cohort about everything the school has achieved, and proceed to wish everyone well with their futures in the years ahead.

“Hey, you good?” Jimin says quietly, nudging Jeongguk’s side, amusement clear on his face.

“Huh?” Jeongguk turns to look at Jimin, confused. “Yeah, why?”

“Nothin’. You just look like you’re about to start drooling soon. Or like you’re two sentences of _____’s speech away from running up on stage and kissing her stupid.” Jeongguk pulls a face, incredulous, to which Jimin holds up his hands defensively, chuckling softly. “Dude. I’m just calling it as I see it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Guk, just tell her already. In a few months, you guys are gonna be heading in different directions to study on opposite sides of the city. You’ll be talking to each other on the phone more than you see her in person, and you’re gonna have to spend the next four years in love with your best friend, but not having grown the balls to confess to her. Dude, what if she meets someone in college? Wait no, scratch that. You know her, and more importantly, you know how guys feel about her. She’s gonna meet someone. And then what, huh? What’re you gonna do? The love of your life is gonna be swept off her feet be a pretty college boy.”

“Thank you, _____,” Principal Song says, pulling Jimin and Jeongguk’s attention back to the stage. “I think I speak on behalf of the staff here when I say we’re going to miss you. It’s going to be very difficult for the next Student Body President to follow you, I think. Now to finish up…”

                                                     〰️

“Wait, why did we need to come in today?” Taehyung asks, rolling his lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other. “We’ve had all our exams, seen us all fail miserably – except you, Miss Student Body President – and have no classes left.”

“Today’s meant to be for anyone who needs to pay any outstanding fees, or return library books, and clean out desks. Stuff like that,” you answer, finishing your message in another student’s yearbook before sliding it over to Jeongguk.

“Right, right. Also why is there no line by our desks to sign yearbooks?! C’mon, guys! I’m right here!”

“Bro, this is the King and Queen we’re talking about, remember?” Jimin says, laughing. Taehyung sighs tiredly.

“I mean, I guess.” He eyes the line of students by you and Jeongguk’s desks, extending outside of the room and out of sight.

“Why’re you so sad?” Jeongguk says, handing the student their yearbook back before turning around to look at Taehyung. “We signed your yearbook first. You got in before Jimin.”

“Also,” you add, turning around just like Jeongguk before taking the next yearbook. “You two literally were the ones that called all the seniors here, announcing we were signing yearbooks.”

“Oh yeah,” Taehyung says, laughing. “You guys should hire us to be your PR reps. Jeongguk, I’m sure you’ll need one. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Jeongguk snorts, turning his attention back to the yearbooks.

                                                     〰️

When the line starts to dwindle down to the last few seniors, Mingyu steps up to Jeongguk’s desk, yearbook tucked under his arm.

“Hey, ace,” Mingyu chuckles, reaching over to take Jeongguk’s hand when he stretches out his arm. “You’ve been busy as.”

“I feel like it hasn’t stopped since this morning, dude,” Jeongguk says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Can you spare a second for your humble servant?”

“Of course, man.” He takes Mingyu’s yearbook, flipping to the back pages. “No Gyeom?”

“Nah, he and Jaehyun are busy trying to get girls to sign their yearbooks with their phone numbers. Whoever gets the least amount of signatures is gonna be buying the other a full dinner, and I think I heard Bam say something about _____’s signature being worth ten, so I’m just giving you a heads up now.”

“I thought they already had my number,” you say, putting your pen down after signing the last yearbook.

“Eww, you gave your number to Gyeom and Jae?” Jeongguk laughs.

“Nah, just me,” Mingyu says, chuckling as he leans against Jeongguk’s desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh good. _____, do not give your phone number to Gyeom and Jae. Spare yourself the migraine.”

“Yeah, I have them muted for, like, six out of the seven days of the week.” Mingyu rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Dude, why’re we friends with them?”

“We got put in the same team for dodgeball in Phys. Ed. that one time, and they’ve been thinking we’re all friends ever since.”

“Wait. All they did was hide behind us while we got hit in the chest with dodgeballs.” Mingyu and Jeongguk both sigh, eyes shut. “_____, seriously. I’m begging you. Don’t sign their yearbooks. Don’t give them that satisfaction.”

“Alright, alright. If you say so,” you say, laughing.

“But you can sign mine if you want,” Mingyu says, grinning.

“Snake,” Jeongguk snorts, chuckling as you reach for Mingyu’s yearbook.

“Hey, man. This is my peak right now. When you become an Olympic athlete, and when _____ wins some Nobel prize, I’ll only have this yearbook as proof that I knew you guys before you guys got famous.”

“Yo, we should take a commemoration photo!” Jimin says, suddenly standing and reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“That’s not a bad idea, bro!” Taehyung says, also standing.

“Then all three of us can use it as a proof shot that we knew Guk and _____ before they became rich and famous.”

“I’m down,” Mingyu says, shrugging.

“Hey, Jeonghan. Can you take a photo of us real quick?” Jimin says, holding out his phone.

“Sure,” Jeonghan says, taking his phone. “In exchange for a photo with Jeongguk and _____.”

“Shit, at this rate it’s gonna be photos now instead of signing yearbooks,” Jeongguk says, getting up to stand next to you.

“Shh!” you say, pressing your hand to Jeongguk’s mouth, his shoulders shaking as he laughs.

“Alright, alright. Let’s focus, kids!” Taehyung says, clapping his hands. “Everyone say kimchi!”

Jeonghan takes a few shots, before handing the phone back to Jimin and taking out his own.

“Hold up. I need to piss,” Jeongguk says, shaking his leg.

“Wait, wait, wait! I’ll be quick,” Jimin says, taking Jeonghan’s phone. “Jjeong, stand over there.”

“Wait, lemme be in the middle,” Jeonghan says, standing in between you and Jeongguk. “I need this photo to look like they love me.”

“Ace looks like he’s about to rip your hair out, Han-ah,” Mingyu says as you laugh.

“Okay, okay. One, two, three, kimchi!” Taehyung counts, arms raised in the air where he stands behind Jimin.

As Jimin hands Jeonghan his phone back, he spots a group of girls peeking through the door and throws his head back to laugh loudly.

“Oh no,” he says, wiping the corner of his eyes.

“What, what, what?” Taehyung asks.

“Over there.” Jimin motions towards the door. “It’s begun.”

Everyone turns towards the door to the classroom, and Jeongguk groans, head tilted back.

“Guys, I really need to piss,” he says.

“Go pee, go pee,” you say, laughing and pushing him towards the doors. “We’ll wait for you.”

“Everyone!” Taehyung shouts down the hall, head stuck out of the doorway. “The King and Queen are taking photos with us peasants!”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Jeongguk hisses, knee colliding with Taehyung’s ass as he walks out to go to the bathroom.

“Please form an orderly line here in front of Room 4-1, and Park Jimin and I will direct you as necessary!”

                                                     〰️

Jeongguk opens one eye when he feels something nudge his shoulder, looking down at the soda can Mingyu holds out to him with an amused smile.

“Figured you need a little boost,” he says, sitting down on the desk next to him and snapping open his own drink.

“Dude, my face hurts,” Jeongguk says, sighing as he pulls the tab, the can hissing as it opens before he takes a long sip. “Like… my cheeks are aching right now.” Mingyu chuckles quietly.

“_____ seems to be doing alright though,” he says, nodding his head in your direction. Jeongguk looks over his shoulder where you’re standing with another group of girls, smiling and nodding as you listen to them talk.

“There’s a reason why she’s Student Body President, Gyu. I heard Mrs. Yoo call her an angel the other day, and I don’t even think anyone can argue with that.”

“Mmm. You guys dating yet?”

Jeongguk chokes on a sip of his soda.

“What?” he says, coughing and rubbing his chest.

“Dude, legit? Man, you two have been, like, the It Couple that aren’t actually a couple the entire time we’ve been here.” Mingyu sighs and chuckles, shaking his head. “You two have been rejecting everyone since freshman year – well, except that dweeb she was dating before. What was his name? Hyuksoo? Hyukmoo?”

“Oh. Hyunwoo. That dickwad.”

“Yeah him. I was surprised _____ dated him as long as she did actually. I mean I thought nothing much of him until he had his tongue down that chick’s throat at pro—”

“Can we…” Jeongguk interrupts. “Can we not talk about that asshole, please?”

“Right, right. My bad. But that’s what I mean, Guk. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been neutral about everything except when it comes to _____. I swear to God, everyone can see you two are in love with each other except you two.”

“Woah, woah. Hold on. I don’t need you on my ass about _____ as well. I get enough shit from Jimin and Taehyung as it is.”

“Ace, you suck at two things,” Mingyu says, hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Algebra, and admitting your feelings for _____.”

“Hey, I passed, didn’t I?” Jeongguk huffs.

“Alright. Now go pass the other thing.”

                                                     〰️

”I can’t believe our babies have graduated,” Jeongguk’s mom says, pressing a tissue to the corners of her eyes.

“I can still remember these two running around with their diapers on,” you mom says, sniffling. “And now look at them.”

”Alright, hon. I think that’s enough embarrassment for Jeongguk and _____,” your dad says, chuckling as he holds your mom’s shoulders. You and Jeongguk laugh, holding your diplomas.

”Congrats, little nugget,” Jeongguk’s brother says, punching his arm. “You too, nerd. I’d like to let you know that I would’ve been so disappointed if you were anything less than valedictorian.”

”I’m glad to know I didn’t disappoint then,” you laugh. “Thanks, oppa.”

Without warning, you and Jeongguk feel something knock you both from behind, Taehyung’s arms wrapping around the both of you. Jimin approaches you and your families, bowing politely in greeting, his and Taehyung’s parents coming up to greet yours and Jeongguk’s.

”Guys. We did it!” Taehyung says, grinning. “I can’t believe we made it.”

”We are officially out of here!” Jimin says, sighing with relief. “This is the best feeling in the world, I swear.”

”Oh yeah. Minjae’s inviting us to their family restaurant after if you guys want some pork belly and noodles,” Taehyung says.

”Oh, I’m definitely there. How ‘bout you two?”

”Gonna have to pass, sorry,” Jeongguk says, running his fingers through his hair. “Hyung’s making dinner, and I am not missing out on that.”

”Oh that’s true,” you say. “I’m pretty sure the last time Junghyun oppa cooked for us was when we started high school.”

”That’s all good,” Taehyung says. “I’ll call you guys later so we can figure out when the four of us’ll have dinner together – or five, if you wanna invite Mingyu, Guk.”

”Sure. I’ll let him know when we’ve made a plan,” Jeongguk replies, nodding.

You say your goodbyes to Taehyung, Jimin, and their parents are they leave to have dinner, stopping to hug and take last-minute photos with a few more students before you’re eventually free to leave with Jeongguk.

”This feels so weird,” he says, chuckling quietly. “We don’t have to come back here again on Monday – or ever, really.” You hum in agreement with a soft laugh of your own.

”Yeah,” you say. “It almost feels wrong. But at least now we have plenty of time to plan our trip.”

”Oh yeah, remind me to clean up the car before we go.”

                                                     〰️

”Alright.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, careful not to get it in your face mask, Jeongguk sprawled out along your bed, eating pretzels as his own face mask dries. “How far should we go on our trip? Like all the way back to Busan for you?”

”I don’t think we need to go that far,” Jeongguk says. “But far enough that we’re nowhere really busy, I think. I wanna be able to think in peace again.”

”Should we book anything in advance? Like accommodation and all that?”

Jeongguk hums with thought, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, quiet as he searches around.

”We can book if you want, but I think we’ll survive just finding hostels and stuff,” he ends up saying. “And if worse comes to worst, if you have no problem sleeping in the car, then we’ll be all good.”

”Easy peasy. I gotta go wash this off.”

Jeongguk nods but doesn’t otherwise move when you climb off your bed and walk to the bathroom, scrolling through Instagram to see all the photos your senior classmates and friends have uploaded, now that you’ve all officially graduated. He chuckles quietly to himself at some of the photos and captions that he sees, before he realises he should probably upload something of his own.

He scrolls through his photos as you finish washing your face, not flinching when you drop a face towel on his stomach and sit at your desk to finish your skincare routine.

”You should probably wash your face, Guk,” you say, fingers tapping at your skin. “You’re looking a little crusty.”

”Uh huh. In a sec, yeah,” Jeongguk says, not taking his eyes off his phone.

”What’re you so preoccupied with anyway?”

He doesn’t answer, still focused on looking through his photos, but he moves easily when you jump onto the bed, lifting one arm so that you can lie next to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

”These the photos you took today?” you ask.

”And our last day,” Jeongguk says. “I need to pick one for the ‘gram.”

”Ah right. Can you just pick one for me as well then? I already took out my contacts.”

”Hey, pick one for yourself.” Jeongguk chuckles, flicking back and forth between two photos to try and choose one. “Your profile looks better than mine anyway.” You pout.

”Maybe I’ll just not post one then,” you say, wiggling around to get comfortable.

”Are you crazy? You’re the Student Body President. You have to post something.”

”Was the Student Body President. I’m free as a bird now.”

Jeongguk tears his eyes away from his phone, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. When he realises he’s looking at you though, with your hair pulled up in a messy bun, skin glowing from the creams and serums you’ve layered on, he’s all of a sudden speechless.

”What? Is there something on my face?”

”Huh?” Jeongguk blinks, shaking his head. “No. There’s nothing.”

”Weirdo.” You laugh quietly, turning onto your side, one arm draped across Jeongguk’s stomach. “You’re sleeping over, right?” He hums softly in response, so faint you almost miss it. “Cool. Just show me which photo you post for me in the morning. G’night, Gukkie.”

”Wh—” Jeongguk’s ready to protest, but when he looks down again, you’ve already shut your eyes. He sighs instead, careful not to laugh too hard in case he jostles you around and wakes you accidentally. He puts his phone down on your side table before switching off your lamp, pulling your blanket over the both of you. “Night, _____.”

[lightsupinthenorth]

Read me like an open book part 1/2

Hey! :) Here is the first part of a two-part (at least I think ah ah) Harringrove fanfiction. It’s set a few years after the events of the third season (which Billy survived, obviously ^^). It starts on Steve’s birthday just because it’s my birthday today :p 

I hope you’ll enjoy ;) 

*

Read on AO3 

“It’s presents time, bitches!” Robin said, getting up from the floor, where Steve was still sprawled with Billy half-laying on top of him. 

They might have overdone it a little on the weed. Steve didn’t really care, though. He was relaxed and happy. So far, his twenty-first birthday had been the best birthday ever. Robin and Billy had organized a surprise gathering in their shared flat, inviting the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, as well as Joyce and Hopper. After everyone had left earlier in the evening, Robin had gone to her room and had come back with a bag of weed bought by Billy and her for the occasion, and they had gotten positively baked. 

Billy and Robin had insisted to give him his present when it was just the three of them instead of doing it at the same time as the others. When Steve had seen the weed, he had understood why. So, he was confused when Robin mentioned presents. 

“What presents?” 

“Your birthday presents, dingus. I know you’re high right now, but I didn’t think you were high enough to forget your own birthday.” Robin cackled. 

“Hey, I haven’t forgotten. I just kinda thought… wasn’t the weed the present?” 

“Pfff, no.” Billy replied. “What kind of present would that be? As if we didn’t already smoke weed on the regular.” 

He made them sound like potheads. They didn’t smoke that often… Then again, it did happen more frequently than their respective birthdays. 

“Yo, Buckley, can you go to my room and fetch my present for Steve too, now that you’re at it. It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.” Billy yelled, a lot louder than was necessary considering Robin was just in the next room. 

Steve whined. Billy’s voice was reverberating in his head. 

“Sure, you lazy fuck.” She yelled back, just as loud. 

They were so noisy!

“Open mine first!” Robin said as she sat down on the floor again, extending a rectangular package. 

Steve had to detangle himself from Billy, ignoring his mumbled complaints, before he tore into the brightly colored wrapping paper. He uncovered a thick book with a beautiful cover representing a sky full of stars. It was titled Long live the King. 

“I know you’ve taken to reading, these days, and this novel is amazing.” Robin assured. 

“It’s really not that good.” Billy grumbled, with a roll of his eyes.  

“Oh, you read it too?” Steve asked. 

“Uh… yeah, I did.” 

Billy was staring at Robin when he said it. And he was frowning. 

“Don’t listen to him, Steve, he’s being a buzzkill. You’re going to love it.” 

“I’m sure I will. Thanks Rob.” Steve hugged her.

He hoped Billy would still agree to help him with the book, even if he didn’t like it much. Ever since he knew Steve had trouble with written words, Billy would read to him all the time. It had become their thing. Steve loved his voice. Well, Steve loved everything about him, but that was off topic. 

“Now, here’s Hargrove gift.” 

Robin basically dropped the gift in Steve’s lap. The wrapping paper had multi-colored stars on it. Steve unraveled it carefully and found a set of pencils and a beautiful sketchbook. Billy and Robin’s gifts kind of coordinated aesthetically speaking, which was nice. Indeed, on the cover of the notebook was a drawing of the night sky, with the sea represented underneath. “My sea of stars”, was written on the front. 

Steve used to doodle distractingly during class. He’d been doing it since primary school. After he had graduated, his doodling habit had spread to his daily life. He would draw lines absentmindedly while he was on the phone or trace random shapes on discarded pieces of paper when he was watching TV but was too fidgety to focus. He hadn’t been seriously committed to drawing, though. He had only started making it into a real hobby after Starcourt. Billy had been the one to suggest it, in fact. After he’d literally come back to life, Steve and he had become good friends, and Billy had noticed his little habit and had bought him a sketch pad. Drawing helped Steve a lot. Gave him something to do when he was feeling restless, which was the case more often than not after the whole ‘Upside-Down and co’ experience. 

Steve was frustrated by his lack of technique, at first, and had almost given up on several occasions. But Billy had always been there to cheer him up and keep him going. He was certain Billy hadn’t even realized his compliments and encouragements had prevented Steve from calling it quits at least a dozen times. They spent hours together in their living room, on the couch, Steve drawing while Billy wrote in his huge notebook, with his feet on Steve’s lap. Steve was eager to spend many more hours that exact same way, drawing on the new sketchbook Billy had offered him. 

“It’s… it’s really nice, Billy. I love it. Thank you.”  

“You’re welcome, Pretty boy.”

They hugged, and Billy didn’t let him go, half-climbing on him again as they laid back down. 

“Ugh, guys, seriously, get a room.” Robin complained, which led to Steve blushing and Billy flipping her the bird. 

Steve would have attributed Billy’s behavior to the weed, but they had gotten more and more tactile since the beginning of their friendship about two years prior, so the weed didn’t have much to do with it. Except that maybe Billy would have waited for Robin to go to bed before attaching himself to Steve like a koala, if he hadn’t been high.

Either way, Steve was far from complaining: the more Billy touched him, the better. 

Before he went to bed that night, Steve took his secret sketchpad – the one in which he drew his best friend page after page (like an obsessed creep) – from under his mattress, and drew the version of Billy he had seen earlier: high Billy, with his lax body and hazy eyes.

A few minutes after putting his paper shrine back in its usual hiding spot, Steve fell asleep with a smile on his face, and the smell of Billy’s cologne on his own skin. He hoped all his birthdays to come would be similar to this one. 

*

When Steve got up the next morning, Billy and Robin were eating breakfast in the kitchen. 

He heard Billy say:

“Stop it, Robin. I can’t tell him, I just can’t.” 

It made no sense to him, since he had missed the beginning of the conversation, but his interest was picked. 

“You can’t tell who, what?” He asked as he went to the cupboard to get his favorite cereals. No way he would eat oatmeal like Robin and Billy. What a depressing way to start the day. 

“I, uh…” Billy started. Robin interrupted him, though: 

“He can’t tell his coworker that his new haircut looks stupid.” 

“Yeah… ‘Cause it would be mean, you know.” Billy added, before putting a huge spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. 

“Uh… well, it’s true. It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say, Rob.” Steve agreed. 

He put his box of cereals on the table and sat down next to Robin, in front of Billy, who was looking intently at his bowl.  

“Why do you think Billy should tell the poor guy his hair looks weird?” 

If anyone said that to Steve, he’d be devastated. That was for sure. 

“So he can let his hair grow back and have it cut in a more flattering way.” Robin explained. “It would be doing him a favor, in my opinion.”  

Steve hummed. “Makes sense”, he said. He was more focused on his fruit loops, though. It wasn’t like he cared about the guy anyway. He hadn’t even met him. 

Robin hadn’t either, so Steve didn’t know why she was so pressed on Billy giving him hair advice. Whatever floats her boat, he thought. 

His roommates were weird, sometimes. Nothing could be done about it. 

*

The next weekend, Steve and Billy were both off from their respective work, and Steve really wanted to start reading the book Robin had gotten him for his birthday. 

Billy was occupied with a novel of his own next to him, and Steve didn’t want to be a burden, so he started reading on his own. After a few pages, he was already hooked, but he got tired quickly, as he always did. Frustrated, he fidgeted a bit on the couch and brought the book closer to his face, as if it would help the words stop swimming in front of his eyes. 

Billy sighed. 

“What’s up, Pretty boy?” He asked, only then looking up from his own reading.

“I just… would it be okay… would you read to me? Please.” 

Billy sighed again, a bit louder. Steve’s face fell. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but Steve always looked forward to Billy reading out loud to him. 

“Sorry… I know you don’t like this book… I’ll ask Robin to read it to me when she gets home.” 

“No! I… I’ll do it, I’ll read for you. I really don’t mind.” Billy exclaimed. 

Steve was agreeably surprised by the amount of enthusiasm Billy displayed and he smiled at him when he handed him the book, letting their hands brush. 

“Thank you!” 

Steve kissed Billy’s cheek and laid his head on his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, Pretty boy.”  

“Sure, I’ll mention it. It means a lot, you know.” 

Billy cleared his throat. “Right… if you say so.” 

Steve could feel the heat of Billy’s blush. 

He always downplayed the nice things he did, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He would keep showing Billy he was grateful for every little (and not so little) attention. Declaring his undying love to him would be a very effective way to make Billy realize how much Steve really appreciated him, but that would also do a lot more harm than good. Steve had to focus on the big picture, here. 

Billy began to read where Steve had stopped, and if Steve didn’t already know Billy disliked the book, he wouldn’t have been able to tell at all. He put his heart into it as he always did. Not only that, but Steve felt like Billy’s voice held even more emotion than it usually did. 

Steve fell into a sort of trance. The story was told in first person, from the point of view of a magician in a fantasy land, and Steve imagined himself as the narrator. In his mind, he could see everything Billy was describing: the village, the fields, the magnificent castle surrounded by a dark forest in which creatures lurked, the King who lived in the castle and whom the enchanter was secretly in love with.

Hours passed before Billy stopped reading. Still, Steve had to refrain himself from begging for one more chapter. He couldn’t be greedy; he didn’t want Billy to tire of him. 

“Here you go, Stevie.” 

“That was great. You’re the best.” 

“It’s just reading, Pretty boy. I didn’t hang the moon.” Billy mumbled. 

Steve nearly said “You might as well have”, but said: “It’s far better than ‘just reading’”, instead. That was a close call. 

They went to the kitchen to make dinner, and Robin came home from work right before the oven beeped. 

Steve ate his meal slowly, without really tasting it, and he didn’t say much, letting Robin and Billy do most of the talking. He was still somewhere far away, in a fantasy land ruled by a beautiful king. And, if the king was a carbon copy of Billy, it was nobody’s business but Steve’s. 

*

On Thursday, Billy went to Indianapolis, and Steve went with him. Apparently, Billy had been asked by his boss to go check and fix a few collection cars over there, and Billy had invited Steve to come with him. Said it would be fun. They’d spend the morning together and Billy would go to his work appointment after lunch.  

“Not that I’m not glad to have the opportunity of going on a fun little trip or anything, but couldn’t that guy find a garage in Indianapolis to take care of his cars? There must be more than a few.” Steve asked Billy, who had just started the car. 

“That’s because I’m the best in fucking Indiana, baby.” He said with a cocky grin. 

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his fond smile. 

“Right. Forget I asked.” 

“To answer more seriously, I don’t really know. But who gives a fuck? The guy paid extra… I mean like, a big wad of cash. So, fine by me.” 

Billy shrugged. 

Steve found it quite weird, but it was fine by him too. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway: he was just tagging along. 

He turned the radio on, and then Billy and he bickered for ages about what station to choose. That was somewhat of a tradition every time they were in a car together. 

“I’m driving, so I choose. It’s driver’s privilege, Pretty boy. Suck it up.” 

“But that’s not fair!” Steve whined. “You insisted to drive, it’s not like I had a choice.” 

“Too bad. You lose anyway.” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, making Billy laugh. The cold bastard. 

When they arrived in Indianapolis, Billy parked, and they chose a direction at random to go wander. Steve got caught up in some window-shopping, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the newest Adidas sneakers behind the glass. 

Steve used to be given everything he wanted. Well, everything he wanted that could be bought with money. Now that he didn’t speak to his parents anymore and was financially independent, however, he couldn’t afford many unnecessary expenses. These shoes sadly fell into the “unnecessary” category. 

Billy had not immediately noticed Steve had stopped walking, so he had to go back on his tracks a little. 

“Hey, Stevie, give a guy a warning, would you? I turned to talk to you and you were not there anymore.” 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just… I wanted to take a look at these.” Steve pointed at the shoes. “I don’t know why I did, anyway… it’s not like I’m gonna buy them.” 

“Right… it’s fine. Let’s go get lunch, Pretty boy.” Billy said, steering him away from the shop, but not without giving the shoes a good look himself. 

They ate burgers and fries in a greasy joint they had stumbled upon. The food was pretty good. As a testament to that, Billy kept trying to steal fries off Steve’s basket. At first, Steve batted his hand away, but he gave up after a while. When Billy gave him a wide smile after finally succeeding, Steve couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d gave up all the fries in the world if it meant seeing Billy smile like that. Steve smiled back at him. 

In the afternoon, while Billy was at work, Steve went to a coffee shop and bought a cappuccino for himself, and a giant raisin oatmeal cookie to go for Billy. He grimaced a little as he ordered the latter. Billy really had weird tastes, sometimes. 

He sat down at a table and put the cookie in his backpack, before taking out his book. He progressed slowly, really slowly, only managing to read a chapter before he had to meet Billy back at the car. Yes, Steve had trouble with reading to begin with, but the fact that this book was making him emotional was not helping him read it any faster. 

He related to the narrator a lot. He, too, was in love with someone close to him yet unreachable. He, too, had to admire them in silence. And the object of his love was as beautiful and as brave as the King was described to be. The only difference was that the King was said to have brown hair and eyes.  

What the characters were going through also reminded him of what had happened because of the Upside-Down, in some way. Life in Hawkins was (or at least had been) so strange that it looked like something out of a fantasy novel. How wild was that? Steve mused, as he was waiting for Billy near his car. 

When Billy made it to the car, he was carrying a thick brown envelope in his right hand and a paper bag in the left. 

“Want some help with all that?” Steve asked. 

“Uh… No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Billy assured, transferring the envelope in his left hand so he was carrying everything on the same side and could fetch the car keys from his pocket with his newly free hand. He opened the trunk and dropped everything in it. 

Steve didn’t bother asking what was in the envelope, or in the bag. If Billy had wanted to share the information, he already would have. Steve definitely wondered, though. 

“I have an oatmeal raisin cookie for you, if you’d like.” He said once they were in their seats, as he rummaged through his backpack in search of it. 

“Oh yeah thanks! that sounds perfect.” 

Billy took the paper bag from Steve’s hand as he unparked the car. Steve would have scolded him for eating while driving instead of focusing solely on the road, but that would have been slightly hypocritical of him. 

“Well, that’s a relief, because no way I’d have eaten that if you didn’t want it.” Steve made a face again. 

“That’s ‘cause you have bad tastes, Pretty boy.” Billy said, taking a big bite of the cookie and putting crumbs everywhere. 

Steve laughed. If only Billy knew how much Steve loved him, he would certainly backtrack on what he had just said.

“It’s delicious, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Billy said in between bites. 

Steve was watching him with a sad smile, glad that Billy’s eyes were on the road and not on him. It took him a few seconds to reply. 

“Oh I know, believe me. I know.” 

*

The next morning, when he woke up, Steve found the brown paper bag Billy had come back with at the foot of his bed. What the…? 

The idea of Billy sneaking into his room during the night to put it there made something tighten in his chest, but Steve was mostly preoccupied with finding out what was inside the bag. 

He basically jumped out of bed, which was very unusual of him (he was the exact opposite of a morning person), and reached for the bag. There was a box labelled Adidas in it… no way! Steve opened it with shaky hands and his jaw dropped. 

What… how… why? Steve was confused. Billy had gotten him the sneakers he’d been looking at in the shop window. How had he paid for them? Why would he spend so much money on Steve? Especially so soon after his birthday… This was far too much. 

Steve exited his room quicker than he would have if it had been on fire. 

“Billy!” Steve might have called his name slightly louder than he meant to.

Billy, who was sitting at the breakfast table with his back to Steve, jumped and put a hand over his heart. 

“Damn, Pretty boy, calm down. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

“What the fuck?” 

Robin darted her eyes between the two of them and announced: “I’ll leave you to it”, before retreating to her room with her bowl of disgustingly bland oatmeal. 

“What gives, Stevie?” 

“You know what, Billy. The shoes. What the fuck? Why did you buy them?” 

“Isn’t that obvious? You wanted them, and I wanted you to have them. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy was not looking at him as he spoke. 

Steve’s heart nearly melted. Because that was so fucking sweet of Billy to do what he did, and then say something like that. He couldn’t possibly accept the gift, though.  

“Not that big a deal? They’re so expensive, Billy… I can’t … I can’t just take them… it wouldn’t be right.” 

“Look, Steve… As I told you, my client from yesterday paid really well, and it’s my money, so I get to decide how to spend it, and I wanted to spend it on these shoes, for you. So please, keep them. They’re your size and not refundable, anyway. Either you keep them or they’ll just rot in the cupboard. That’s up to you.”

Steve was almost certain Billy was bullshitting him on the “not refundable” part, but he didn’t argue. It would be no use: Billy always won.  

So, he just hugged him tightly instead. Billy froze for a second, but quickly let go of the spoon he was still holding to hug Steve back. 

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve that.” 

“You don’t need to do anything in particular, Pretty boy. Being yourself is more than enough.” 

Steve was not a crier, but his eyes were undeniably misty. Billy couldn’t keep being so sweet and expect Steve to reign his feelings in. They were on the verge of overflowing already. 

After finally letting go of Billy (not before leaving a kiss on top of his head, though), Steve put the sneakers on. 

“Steve, seriously… you’re still wearing your pajamas.” 

Steve’s pajamas consisted in frayed basketball shorts and a old Hawkins High t-shirt, so it was fine to wear the sneakers with them in Steve’s book. And he wouldn’t take these off until he absolutely had to. 

“So what?” Steve asked. 

Billy rolled his eyes, but his ears were red. 

*

About a week later, Steve’s nightmares paid him a visit. They had left him alone for a while, but Steve knew they’d be back eventually. He saw Billy die again, which was simultaneously his worst and most common nightmare. 

“Hey, Steve. Stevie. Wake up, please.” 

He was shaken awake.

Thankfully, Billy was the one to wake him up from his dream, so Steve instantly knew he was alive and well. Steve threw his arms around him, buried his face in his neck, and inhaled his scent to calm himself down. 

Billy held him close and rubbed his back, whispering reassuring words in his ear:   

“You’re okay, Pretty boy. You’re fine. It was just a dream.” 

Yes, Steve was alright. But the most important thing was that Billy was. That had been the object of Steve’s concern. 

“I’m sorry… did I wake you?”

Billy sighed. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t mind, Steve?” 

“As many times as I have to tell you the same thing.”

Billy’s room was right next to Steve’s. It wasn’t the first time he woke Billy up with his nightmare-induced screams. And Billy’s night terrors had woken Steve up a few times too. 

“Touché.” Billy said. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” He added after a pause. 

“I don’t know… Could you read to me again?” 

“Sure, if it helps.” Billy agreed. 

Steve snatched the book from his bedside table and handed it to Billy, who opened it where the bookmark indicated Steve had stopped. 

“You read all this by yourself?” There was awe in Billy’s voice. 

Steve was blushing, but in the low light of his bedside lamp, it was probably not very noticeable. At least, he could always hope. 

“Yeah… uh… I was really into it.” 

He had read about seven chapters on his own, which, added to the ones Billy had read to him the other day, only left three before they reached the end. 

“Steve, you did really good!” 

Steve blushed even harder. His face was burning at that point. Billy sounded so proud of him. 

“It’s not like it’s a great achievement, or anything… but yeah, I guess it’s progress.” 

“Hey, of course it’s progress. It’s a lot, Steve. Don’t diminish your accomplishments.” Billy said in a firm tone.

“Okay, okay. I won’t.” 

“Good.” Billy sprawled on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He then tugged on Steve’s arm. “Now settle down.” 

Steve did as he was told and settled right next to him, resting his head on Billy’s chest and putting an arm over his waist. Steve loved the feeling of Billy’s naked skin against his. When they had first moved in together, Billy wore long-sleeved t-shirts almost constantly, self-conscious as his scars made him. Now, he slept in nothing but shorts. Steve wasn’t the only one who had been making progress.

Billy was barely three sentences into the third to last chapter when his voice broke. He cleared his throat and resumed the reading as if nothing had happened. His voice was now breathy, though. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes.”

“You sure? We can stop.” 

“I’m sure, Pretty boy. Now shut up and let me read.” 

Steve effectively shut up and Billy got back to the task at hand. 

In the last three chapters, the King lost his kingdom, the magician finally confessed their love and found out it was in fact reciprocated. Then, the narrator described their first kiss with the King, a kiss that made Steve’s chest constrict with longing. The fact that it was Billy’s voice describing it only made the longing ten time worse. 

As Billy read the last words: “He was not ruling the kingdom anymore, but to me he would always be king. My king, my light, my love, my everything”, Steve was on the verge of tears. 

He regularly went through terrifying nightmares and found himself unable to spill a single tear, but this book might do the trick. And okay, it might have been a bit mushy, but Steve was really digging it, alright? 

He opened his eyes and saw a tear stain on the last page. For a second, he thought he had already started crying without noticing, but his cheeks were dry. It then occurred to him that the tear had come from Billy. 

Steve put the book away from him and had to straddle him so they could be face to face. He then wiped Billy’s tears, but they kept coming. 

“What’s the matter, Billy?” 

Unlike Steve, Billy was a crier. Steve had seen him cry a bunch of times, when he’d been particularly tired, or sad, or frustrated. However, there was something he was not getting: why had Billy pretended he didn’t like the book in the first place? It had to be the book. What other reason did Billy have to cry right now?

“I… I’m sorry.” Billy just said before he started properly bawling and hid his face in his hands.  

Steve was even more confused… and slightly panicked. 

“Hey… hey… please, tell me what’s wrong. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Steve circled Billy’s wrists to ground him, but he didn’t try to pull his hands away from his face for fear it might make him retreat further into himself. 

“I just… this book hits me really hard.” His voice was muffled, but Steve could still make out the words.  

“But… you said it wasn’t very good.”

Billy lowered his hands. His eyes were red and puffy. 

“I meant it… It still makes me sad, though.” 

Steve frowned. He didn’t think a book could elicit such reaction in someone who didn’t like it all that much. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Steve wouldn’t have judged Billy, he would have understood. He never wanted Billy to feel so bad, and even less if it happened because of something Steve had asked of him. 

“I should have… I should have said something. I’m sorry.” Billy’s breathing was uneven, and Steve could see his tears threatening to come back. 

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me next time, okay?”

Billy nodded and Steve smiled at him tentatively. 

“Let’s go to bed.” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Billy mumbled. 

Steve turned the lights off before moving from Billy’s lap to lay down. As Billy snuggled up with him, Steve couldn’t help but think about his recent behavior. Billy was acting a tad strange these days. He had gotten a lot better at expressing his feelings verbally in the last couple of years, and Steve was positive that the Billy he knew would have told him the book would upset him instead of pretending he would be fine. 

Steve would have to talk to him when he was more clear-headed. The last thing he wanted was for Billy to close himself off again.   

*

Thank you for reading :D 

[artificialqueens]

What's New, Pussycat? (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: For Holtzmanns, who asked for Brooke helping Vanjie get over a fear of cats. Thanks a million and a half to Meggie for beta-ing <3

(1)

Brooke expected to open the door to a hug. She expected to open the door to a high-pitched yell, little arms thrown around her neck, a big, long, excited kiss on her lips. She expected to open the door to a ball of pure joy and energy, one that would make her feel excited and giddy, too.

What she didn’t expect was for Vanessa to stand stock-still and stare right past her.

“Babe, are you okay?” Brooke frowned. She turned around, worried, to see what Vanessa was staring at, but there was only Apollo washing himself contentedly, while Henry sat and observed the scene.

Suddenly, it clicked.

“Jo, are you… Are you afraid of cats?”

“No!” Vanessa protested loudly. There was a beat, Brooke staring Vanessa down with a bemused look, and Vanessa looked down, sheepishly admitting, “Yes. It’s not my fault, though!” she interjected when she noticed the smirk spreading on Brooke’s face. “They got the third eye!”

“Baby, they’re just animals.” Brooke tried and failed to hold back her laughter, giggles coming out in snorts as she tried her best to keep them in.

“I know that! Don’t mean they ain’t carryin’ some kind of demon-type juju bullshit!”

“Oh my God.” Brooke wiped her eyes, still laughing. “But you’ve seen them before, you knew I had them.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t expect them to greet me at the motherfucking door! Starin’ at me like that. Shit. Might as well just try an’ kill me right here.”

“Well, unless you want to sleep outside tonight, you’re gonna have to come in.” Brooke slung her arm around a hesitant-looking Vanessa and steered her inside, pushing a little to offset the suddenly heavy, stubborn drag of Vanessa’s feet.

“Relax, babe.” Brooke cracked a smile, giggles escaping once again, “I’ll protect you.”

(2)

The truth of the matter was, having a boyfriend who was afraid of cats just wouldn’t do. Henry and Apollo liked seeing Brooke around, liked being able to know where she was in case they needed her. They liked having full reign of the house and being able to go where they pleased, whenever they pleased. They liked to sneak up on Brooke and butt their heads against her shins and liked to stare at strangers, daring them to touch their human.

Vanessa, on the other hand, spent their first day together holed up in Brooke’s room with the door closed, insisting that it stay that way overnight, yelling back every time she heard the cats meowing on the other side of the door. At one point when she had to go to the bathroom, she insisted Brooke come with her and guard the door, adamant that she didn’t want ‘some bitchass whisker monster’ sneaking up on her and ‘snakin’ me with its claws while my drawers are down.’

No, it was absolutely unacceptable–something had to be done. And Brooke had ten more days to do it; ten days she was sure she could take full advantage of.

On day two, Vanessa went out with Kameron while Brooke stayed at home to “finish up some work.” Vanessa hadn’t been too happy, but when Brooke promised her with a wink that she’d make it up to her later, she got over it pretty quickly. Vanessa had barely closed the door behind herself before Brooke whipped out her laptop, furiously Googling animal phobias and how to get over them.

(3)

Vanessa was still so blissfully fucked out the next morning that she didn’t even notice that Brooke had left the door wide open when she’d gotten up to make breakfast. It was just as well; Brooke needed Vanessa nice and calm if her plan was going to work.

“Hey, baby!” Brooke smiled widely as Vanessa wandered into the kitchen, eyes still bleary with sleep. “I made pancakes.”

“Mm.”  Vanessa yawned and slid up beside Brooke, wrapping her arms around her waist and nuzzling into her side. Brooke leaned down and kissed the top of Vanessa’s head, breathing in her smell: faint traces of Old Spice mixed with the lingering musk of linens soaked with sex filling Brooke’s mind with memories of lazy mornings in bed and cuddles on the couch, kisses over home-cooked meals and the weight of Vanessa on her lap while watching their friends perform at the club.

She was so wrapped up in breathing Vanessa in that she failed to notice the other smell building up in front of her until Vanessa pulled away suddenly, diving towards the grill.

“Shit, babe, the pancakes!”

Okay, so maybe Brooke’s original plan of cuddling up on the couch to eat breakfast while psychoanalyzing Vanessa’s fear didn’t work out. But, on the other hand, Vanessa was so busy trying to scrape the smoking remains of burnt batter off the grill that she didn’t notice Henry and Apollo creeping over to watch the action.

(4)

“I can’t believe this.” Vanessa huffed, slumping back against her seat dramatically.

“It’s just a quick stop.” Brooke kept her eyes on the road, suppressing a flash of irritation. She knew that this was all part of a plan Vanessa didn’t necessarily agree to, but did she have to be such a brat about it?

“Pet stores smell, Mary! I can’t be stinkin’ up all of Nashville! I got a reputation to uphold.”

“I think you’ll be fine.” Brooke responded dryly as they pulled into the parking lot. Her tension dissipated, though, when they got out of the car, Brooke grabbing Vanessa by the wrist and pulling her into the shop maybe a little more urgently than was necessary.

Pet Club 96 was small, and cluttered, but it was Brooke’s go-to for anything cat-related. The store carried lesser-known cat food brands that pleased even the pickiest of cats, and their toy and sweater prices were much lower than any Petsmart or Petco this side of the county. The lone staff member was a tried-and-true cat lover, and always had the best stories to tell. Brooke was excited to share all of that with Vanessa, of course, but the real agenda for the day was a little more specific.

“Look, baby, kittens!” Brooke gasped as she dragged Vanessa over to the back of the store, to the single, large cage where three tiny, mewling balls of fluff wriggled around, sticking their noses through the bars of their cage and stepping over each other to greet the action going on outside. Vanessa looked like she was going to say something, probably call Brooke out on her reason for bringing her here, but Brooke didn’t give her the chance.

“Aww, aren’t they cute?” Brooke grabbed Vanessa by the hand and yanked her down face to face with a tiny gray one, clearly the runt of the litter, who mewed pitifully at Vanessa. “Look at him, so tiny. Hi, buddy.” The kitten responded by sticking out a paw and catching Vanessa’s hand. Brooke expected her to jump back, maybe to yell, and tense, but to her surprise, Vanessa barely moved. Rather, she cracked a little smile.

“Aw, he a little rascal, ain’t he?” Vanessa stuck a single finger out towards the cage, watching with a surprising amusement as the kitten stuck out its paw and batted at Vanessa.

“Not very scary when they’re that small, are they?” Brooke grinned, and not even the venomous look Vanessa shot her could ruin the smug satisfaction that swelled in her chest, buoying her mood and egging her on.

(5)

Vanessa jolted upright in bed the minute she heard the scratching. “Did you hear that?”

“Mm, hear what?” Brooke stirred beside her, blinking hard and yawning.

“That scratching noise. Shh! There it is again.” Indeed, a little scuffing sound followed, barely audible but no less ignorable to anyone who knew what it signified.

Brooke sighed deeply, but chuckled a little despite herself. “That’s just the cats, baby. They miss us.”

“Oh.” Vanessa seemed to be placated at the answer, but stayed upright, continuing to stare at the door intently.

“Can I let them in? They’re not going to stop otherwise.” As if to illustrate Brooke’s point, a loud, plaintive meow sounded from the other side of the door. Vanessa groaned.

“Fine, but I better not wake up with no scratches on my face, bitch. It’s too expensive for that.”

(6)

Vanessa didn’t wake up with any scratches on her face, but Brooke had to bite her tongue hard not to point out that the smaller queen had woken up with Henry’s furry body snuggled in her arms.

(7)

By day seven, Brooke hadn’t just leaned in to her reputation as a master manipulator; she’d started to wear it as a badge of honour. They were halfway into The Notebook, Vanessa wrapped in a Snuggie while resting her head in Brooke’s lap, when Brooke decided that right then was the perfect time for popcorn.

“No, don’t get up, baby, I’m the one who wants it, I’ll get it.” Brooke slid out from under Vanessa, stroking a gentle hand through her hair before gingerly escaping to the kitchen. She worked fast–swapped out the plain kernels for pre-buttered, quietly took the margarine out of the fridge to coat the bowl lightly before dumping the popcorn in on top of it.

She’d barely sat down again before the cats had appeared, their tails twitching and throats rumbling as they waited for someone to inevitably drop a kernel.

“Gross, why’s it so greasy?” Vanessa scrunched up her nose and wiped her hand off on the fabric of her snuggie, practically inviting Henry to jump up and start sniffing at the oily smear left near her legs. Vanessa kicked him away, but otherwise didn’t react, and to Brooke, that was progress.

(8)

“GET ONE PAW CLOSER, BITCH, I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“Brock? Is everything alright?”

Brooke popped her head out of her room to see Vanessa holding a plate of pasta above her head and Apollo scrambling across the room, his claws scratching against the floor.

“Yeah, mom, everything’s fine.” Brooke went back in and closed the door. “Jo’s just getting used to the cats.”

“Oh. Is that… Does he normally react to things that way?”

There was a clatter outside, a voice growling out some Spanish curse-words, and then silence, followed by a quiet concession. Fine, I’ll pick you up. Fucking bitch.

Brooke shrugged, suppressing a giggle. “It’s not unusual.”

(9)

When Brooke woke up the next morning, Vanessa was sitting on the couch with Henry on her lap.

“Do mine eyes deceive me?” Brooke gasped in mock surprise, “Are you, Jose Cancel, otherwise known as Miss Vanessa Isabella Vanjie Mateo, hater of all things feline, sitting on my couch with a cat on your lap?”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I don’t want him here, he just jumped up on me.”

“Uh-huh.” Brooke cocked and eyebrow, holding back a smirk. “So why don’t you just get up?”

Vanessa blinked, her face completely blank.

“But… he’s on my lap.”

(10)

Brooke had to admit, she’d never seen Henry or Apollo adjust to a person as fast as they’d taken to Vanjie. Maybe it was the fact that at first, she’d left them alone; maybe it was that she was secretly (allegedly) smearing the waistband of Vanessa’s shorts with just a smidge of butter every night. The details weren’t important. What mattered was, when Brooke and Vanessa went to bed on their second-to-last night together, they left the door open, and the cats slept at the foot of their bed.

(11)

“Awww, bye, little guys!” Vanessa crouched down to meet Henry and Apollo, who had padded over to sniff at the suitcases gathered next to the door and give Vanessa’s ankles a few last licks

“You’re not afraid of the demon-type juju bullshit anymore?” Brooke couldn’t resist teasing the Vanessa as the small queen leaned down to pick Henry up, snuggling into his fur and giving the top of his head a little kiss.

“Okay, maybe I was being a bit dramatic.” Vanessa conceded through a mouthful of fur, rolling her eyes dramatically. “But they’re not that bad, actually.”

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing reason.” Brooke winked, taking Henry from Vanessa’s arms and letting him down onto the floor. “Ready to go?”

Vanessa hesitated for a moment, looking sheepishly from Brooke back to the cats and back to Brooke again. Brooke grinned, a bubble of affection rising up in her chest, forcing its way out in a little laugh.

“It’s okay, babe,” she teased, pushing Vanessa out the door and giving her a quick kiss, “You’re coming back next month.”

[forthemultiverse]

A Siblings Trust - Batsis!Reader

Requested by Carleyviolingirl28 :

So I was wondering if I could do a request for a middle sibling Batsis type of one shot where she is so focused on missions and school and her responsibilities that she neglects her health (like not eating or sleeping enough) and her brothers don’t notice until she passes out on a mission or something? And could you please include their reactions and what they would do to help her? Thanks!

I’m not sure I followed the request exactly how you wanted me to, sorry, but I hope you like it. This was requested on Quotev and was an interesting change for me; I hope I did Batsis justice since I’ve never written that before. Also, I’ve just started posting these stories over on Wattpad as well as Quotev so if any of you like reading fics on there, *awkward finger guns* I use ForTheMultiverse as my username on there too <3<3

Request are open in case anyone else is wandering :D

You heard the alarm going off the first time. That didn’t mean you were going to listen to it or get up. Not that you didn’t want to get up, you knew you had to, or else you’d end up being late to school, but you also figured that Alfred would eventually come and get you after noticing you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. When you were late for school, you decided it was Tim’s fault. He’d told Alfred you’d gone in early because he genuinely thought you had. Apparently, it was a believable thing for you to do.

You just about scrambled through the hallway without being seen by anyone, arriving as the bell rang, signalling the end of the second period. If you could slip into the crowd, then no one would question the fact you’d just arrived.

“You look like a mess.” Tim mused, spotting you straight away. He was a few months younger than you, meaning you were in the same school year and most of the same classes. “I covered for you by the way.”

“Why’d you tell Alfred I would already be at school?”

“You’ve left without me almost every day this half term, and I’ve always found you in the library once I’ve got here!” he defended and you stopped walking. He was right. You’d been getting up at four thirty every morning. "See!” he took your stunned face as him being right, and you let him.

“What time do you usually get up?”

“Like six? I do casework for an hour then get ready.” There was a fifteen-minute break after the second period so he could quickly catch you up on everything you’d missed you’d missed. 

“I get up so much earlier than you.”

“You go to bed before me though.” That only made you feel worse. You had to get up early to work on cases because you knew Tim was smarter than you. He would figure everything out if you didn’t work harder. If Tim stayed up later than you, he was getting the same amount of sleep as you but doing so much better than you were. He wasn't oversleeping or accidentally ditching school. He was coping. 

“True…”

“Are you okay? You can go home, take the day off, I’ll get your work for you if you’re too tired?”

“I’m fine,”

“Fine?”

“Great.” Everyone knew that 'fine' never meant fine. 

“Promise?”

“If you’re okay, I’m okay.” you nodded, he was scanning you for weakness, and you weren’t going to let him find any. If he wasn’t oversleeping, neither were you. “Promise.”

“M’kay…” he handed over a few sheets of paper for you to start filling in. He was technically your brother, and you loved him like blood family, but you couldn't bring yourself to say that you needed help. Your family was all about survival, and that's what you were doing. 

Sadly, you couldn’t just zone out for the rest of the day to rest; you needed to help your youngest brother out. Damian didn’t like to ask for help, so you didn’t let him. You just saw Robin in trouble over lunch so disappeared from your friends to suit up. He’d probably be rude to you, but he was family, and you could see him struggling through the live video on your phone.

“What’s happening?” you asked through the comms

“White van has money in it, and the black van is shooting at me.”

“You get the money; I’ll distract.”

“I can do it on my own,” he growled as you appeared around the corner and swung from lamppost to lamppost. 

“You don’t have to though.”

You got yourself ahead of the black van. Jumping over incoming bullets to land on the front - terrifying the driver and stopping the fire for a moment as one of the gunmen clambered into the seat and tried to hit you. Damian took the help and disappeared into the shadows. Maybe you should have given Damian the harder job; he was fully awake while you were off your game. But he was your younger brother, whether he admitted it or not, and as an older sibling, it was your job to protect him. No matter how much slower you were moving, or how sloppy your attacks were - you needed to defend him. 

The bullet missed you because Damian was quick-footed, and watching your back from his takedown. You moved forward, onto the van roof. Tossing one Batarang into the glass and kicking a smoke bomb through the gap. The van swerved across the road, turning fast as it lost control. You tried to keep your balance, but your feet were sliding backwards as it hit the lamppost. The grip on your feet held you on the edge of the van, but bullets were flying everywhere. You ducked and kicked one of the guys as he stopped to rub his eyes. One down. The others weren't so stupid, managing to fire randomly, knowing they'd cause some kind of damage even if they didn't hit you, hoping they'd take a few civilians down before the police arrived. They wanted to make a point, and you couldn't think fast enough to stop them. The gunfire made your ears ring. The second Batarang left your hand, no real aim but managing to knock two guns to the floor before returning to your side - and you sent it straight into the smoke again. No clue what else todo

The smoke started to clear, and a stray bullet was a metre away from hitting you in the stomach. You froze. The first time you'd ever been entirely unable to move. You were tired and unprepared for the entire fight. Your brain raced over how you should have told Tim to go; you should have let Damian deal with this. You didn't need to be here. No one had called you into action. Your stupid sibling override was going to get you shot.

Something wrapped around your leg and pulled, slamming you into the broken van roof, and out of harm’s way.

“The Police have the money, let’s get out of here before you freeze again,” Damian snarled as he released your ankle. 

You both got onto a roof when he finally said something.

“You don’t look good.”

“Whatever, wannabe Bruce.”

“You look tired and old.”

“And why do you care?”

“I don’t!”

“Awe! Do you care about me really, Damian? Do you not like it when other people try to hurt me?” you spoke with a baby voice and grabbed his cheeks, “Is the baby growing up?”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re like eight, that’s a baby.”

“I’m eleven!” he yelled

“What’s that? Six?”

“Maybe you're not sloppy; maybe you’re just unskilled, wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I was trained by Batman.”

“And he obviously didn’t care enough to train you well.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,”

“You couldn’t if you tried, maybe I should’ve let you take the bullet to teach you a lesson. Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move as slow as you were.”

“Screw off Dami.”

“Tssk!” he stormed off, and you jumped off the roof to return to school, knowing you’d missed the start of your next class and won’t be able to get into the classroom until it’s over. 

“Something is wrong with (Y/N)!” Damian announced as he walked into Dick’s apartment. Dick screamed a dropped his cereal bowl, not expecting anyone to come over that day. 

“Learn to knock!”

“You should always be ready for an attack.” Damian shrugged.

“Not on my day off!” He grabbed a shirt and tried to shuffle some of the sprawled clothes out of Damian’s view. He didn’t need to know Babs had only recently left. 

“You’re lifestyle has gone downhill.” Damian judged, “You are aware it’s midday, and you’re eating breakfast foods?”

“Cereal is for all times of the day.” Dick poured himself another bowl now his first one had gone on the floor, and joined his brother on the couch, “So, (Y/N)?”

“She overslept, her fighting was sloppy, she almost got shot, and something’s wrong.”

“And why do you care?” Dick felt pride in his chest, Damian did care about his siblings. “Are you warming up to the family?”

“No! I just don’t want her to ruin a mission!”

“Sure. If you’re concerned, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“She said I was eight and made fun of me.”

“She’s your sister, of course, she’s going to tease you, that’s sibling culture.”

“Then why am I told off for doing it?”

“Because you’re harsh and mean, she’s teasing in love; you can tell the difference by the tone of voice. You want to try talking to her again?” Damian scowled and shook his head. Talking to you again might make you think he cares, “So you want me to try?"

“You’re the oldest.”

“Go it.” Dick winked and waved him out of his apartment.

When Dick found you later that day, he was in civilian gear and offering to buy coffee. Tim had some club after school, so the two of you just drove to the nearest cafe. Dick was known to just randomly show up and do something he dubbed ‘Sibling Bonding’, so you didn’t think it was strange.

“How’s your day gone? Mine’s been good, I’ve had a day off, it’s always nice to have a day off and just catch up on sleep and stuff. It’s relaxing, don’t you think?”

That raised a red flag for you. Dick could be very subtle when he wanted to, but he was trying to cut to the chase without pissing you off.

“I’m fine, and I told Tim that, so if he sent you in, I appreciate the free coffee, but I’m honestly fine.”

“Tim didn’t send me, if Tim had sent me a message, I would have told him to trust you and been a whole lot more subtle.”

“Alfred?”

“I spoke to him, but only after Damian asked me to talk to you.”

“Damian?” you were shocked, the little monster was your annoying younger brother and a living nightmare. He may have saved you ass earlier, but you didn’t think him as the type to go to Dick worried about you. That was a you move. You looked out for your family.

“I’m your brother (Y/N), you can talk to me, and you can talk to him. If you just speak to him like an adult, he won’t be mean. He doesn’t try to be an asshole, and he does care really.”

“Very deep down.” you rolled your eyes.

“Very very deep down, but I’ve seen the nicer side.”

“I’m fine.”

“If Tim already to spoke to you, Damian came to me, and Alfred seems pretty concerned, I think that means you need to take a break.”

“Think about it yourself; someone was telling you that you’re tired, but who knows your body best?”

“I do.”

“Exactly, I know my body, I may look tired, but I’m not.”

“Oversleeping this morning?”

“I told Tim to wake me up! That was his sleep-deprived ass forgetting!” You lied a little. You didn’t want to admit you were weaker than your brothers. You all had the same schedule, you all worked hard, but you always felt like you were lagging behind. You could understand why Barbara had quit being Batgirl. It’s sad to realise you can’t actually help out as much as someone else. But you weren’t going to quit. You couldn’t. You’d be letting them all down, it would mean you’d wasted so much of your life to train for no reason. It would mean they were out there, risking their lives and you wouldn't be able to help them is they ended up in a dangerous situation. You’d drive yourself mad - staying up as late as you could while trying to maintain your grade average trying to solve cases and do homework and workout and keep up with Tim and stay ahead of Damian and not let Bruce down. You would be the first one out of bed each morning, first into costume if someone was needed on the field. You would work twice as hard as the boys, and you wouldn’t quit. You couldn’t let them see you as weaker than them, and you wouldn't let them be out there without you. Not a chance. 

“Okay, you do know your body, but if you have another bullet scare like today, I’m going to Bruce, and you’re taking at least a weak to rest.”

“Come on!”

“That’s nice, that’s me being a good big brother and trusting you.” You nodded, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he lifted his hand for a high-five “Family? What would you do if you were in my position?”

“Family.” you groaned and gave him the high-five, deliberately not answering the second question. You'd make sure siblings were okay; you'd make them rest. You wouldn't trust them the way Dick did.

You made it through the week, focusing on keeping your body going and not slipping up. You weren’t going to let Dick go to Bruce, and you weren’t going to take a day off. But everyone met for a change of patrol a week later, and you were sitting on the edge of the rooftop. You were rubbing your eyes and wishing you had coffee to wake you up. You hadn’t had time to grab anything to eat before heading out to meet everyone, and you were supposed to take over from Damian. You couldn’t let him stay out any later since he was still younger. You just hoped you could talk Dick into making a Fast food run or something.

“Who’s here?” Tim asked, landing last. 

“Everyone but you,” Damian smirked, and Tim stuck his tongue out.

“Up (Y/S/N), you and me can take West High Street, Red Robin and Spoiler, use Wayne Enterprises as your base, Orphan and Signal can use here, Robin’s been patrolling all afternoon so he can head home and rest, Batgirl will be joining us later.”

As you stood up, your head was light, all the blood rushing to it. Your vision went, and you felt yourself trip back. Luckily Cass caught you before you fell off the roof.

When you woke up, you were lying on your bed, Dick asleep in the chair by the door. As you moved, he shot awake. All of his nerves and senses awake.

“(Y/N)! Thank god you’re okay.”

“I was always fine.”

“You passed out from standing off; you nearly fell off the roof.”

“None of you would’ve let that happen.” You shrugged, trying to get out of bed. He jumped forward and held the duvet down.

“Cass caught you, and you are not getting up.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,”

“Then there’s still time to get out there and help.”

“Not a chance.”

“Cass caught me; I’m not hurt. I can patrol. I know I’m fine.”

“I trusted you last week. We all trusted you! You said you were fine last week. You aren’t leaving this bed for a day at least.”

“You can’t force me to stay here.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Let me out!”

“I’m your brother, and I trusted when you said you were fine and you almost fell off the roof because you stood up. There is no way you’re getting out of this bed. Tim trusted you, Damian trusted my judgement.”

You noticed something different in Dick’s face. He was tense, and he suddenly seemed a lot older than you usually thought of him as. He was your brother, one of you guys, you forgot that he’d been doing this superhero thing a lot longer than you. He’d been the first. Your lies had made him trust you, and you’d almost gotten hurt. His decision could have got you hurt. Your choices made him feel guilty, which made you feel guilty - which of course you deserved to feel.

“Dick…” you whispered, “I was just doing what you all do. You all stay up as late, work hard, I’m just working harder to try and keep up. Trying to protect the others...”

“You don’t have to be me! You actually have the joy of not being me, the only one, the first Robin. There are so many of us that we always have someone spare for patrol. You could’ve just taken the night off.”

“But what if you all realised you didn’t need me at all!”

“You're our sister, blood or not; we’re always going to need you, mask on or off.”

“Wait, you’re trying to keep up?” Tim pushed the door open; he’d been eavesdropping the entire time.

“See! He now thinks lower of me!”

“I don’t think you’re less!” Tim shook his head and rushed towards the bed. He’d just finished patrol. “I want you to be healthy. I’m not healthy, that’s why I noticed. I set six alarms to make sure I wake up in the morning, one of them makes me coffee, so I don’t even have to move without caffeine in my system. I didn’t want you to be like me.”

“You’re the younger one, I should be setting the example,” you complained, flopping into your pillow. 

“This is my fault.” He muttered, “If I wasn’t always trying to prove myself and be as good as you…” he was freaking out and ran out of the room, coming back in a few minutes with one of his coffee alarm clocks.

“No, Tim.” Dick made him take it from you, even though you clapped your hands and tried to grab it. “She needs rest, not a way to stay awake. Actually no, I’m taking that. You need sleep too, both of you are on bed rest until further notice.” 

“Coming from you, you don’t sleep either!” You pointed out as Dick disappeared to take Tim’s coffee supply away. 

“Yeah, because I got into the habit and adapted at a young age. I was the only one, remember.”

“I know, you said it like five seconds ago.” Dick snorted at your comment, and that made you feel better. “The extended families so big by now that no one should ever end up like this again.”

There was a long pause in the conversation as all three of you thought about that. From Kate to Duke to Carrie and Harper and the Fox Family. There was an awful lot of people running around Gotham nowadays. You had been so concerned about making sure Damian wasn’t going to get hurt that you’d almost been shot, you’d been so concerned about making sure you weren’t left behind whilst your brothers were in danger that you nearly fell off a roof. Damian had gone to Dick, which meant he was looking out for you - just in his own socially inept way. 

“How does it feel to have started all of this?” You asked.

“If it's the reason you guys are collapsing, I'm not very proud…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, but as your brother, you should be able to tell me the stuff you can’t tell Bruce, you can admit you’re tired or need a break, or trying to balance too much. Siblings support each other. We're a family, so we help each other - whether that's by making you sleep, or pushing you away from gunfire, none of us have to do this alone anymore.”

“Where’s Jason at right now?” you asked out of interest.

“He came back to help cover patrol for a bit so we can all have a break, he’s joining us tomorrow night.”

“Seriously?” you sat up straighter. It was going to be the first time in a long while that all your brothers were in the same house. 

“(Y/N)?” Damian opened the door carrying a bowl of popcorn, “I could hear all the noise through the rest of the house so thought you might like some popcorn.”

“Thank you?” You took the bowl from him, and he disappeared quicker than he had appeared. He really didn’t know how to handle being a brother and you immediately wanted to mother him. 

“Told you he cared.” Dick smiled, grabbing Tim as he tried to sneak out.

“You’re benched too.”

“Not fair.”

“Not making the same mistake twice.” Dick mused, taking a fistful of popcorn, “Disney movies all day tomorrow? I’m taking the day off, follow my example?”

“You’re the oldest, so I guess,” you said, smiling and trying to sound as irritated as possible. Dick was doing what you would do, but with the heart, only he could have. All of your family had their way to show they cared, yours was working yourself senseless to protect them, but if they were taking tomorrow off too...you could rest. Everyone could relax. 

[queermequeeryou]

chapter four

Mad was feeling like everything was going out of her hands. She was overwhelmed with effects that, like a ricochet, has started to hit her harder than she expected in her deepest nightmares. It was one thing to be self-reflecting, even self-blaming but it was the other one to hear it from other person’s mouth. The mouth she used to kiss with admiration and sympathy. She could really fell in love with this girl but she did not. Her head on the brink of exploding, her mind almost entirely wretched. She did not know if she should be teaching by now. It was all too much. She took the free day at university and went to the doctor which was also her good friend. Well, more of Brooklyn’s best high school colleague anyway, without further explanations he just signed the sick leave for her til the end of the week. Mad wanted to reflect on everything, focus only on book agreement and figure out if she should transfer to different university. She did not want Paris to leave as it was the best one on linguistics in NYC so the most adequate would be for Mad to just go. They both knew that seeing each other almost everyday was out of the consideration. Although, Mad really enjoyed working there and as Paris mentioned that she wants to leave, that was all even harder. What should she do? Where should she go? Mad did not talk to Brooklyn about it. He was focused on his first days living with Blackie again and also Leo was not ready for this talk. She wanted to do this later, though. As always, her brother had to know. He was the most important person in her live and it was a both-sided feeling. Mad woke up around midday and felt not even slightly better but at least she tried to get a better sleep which was more like lying under the sheets and trying her to remain with lids tightly shut. With not much effects. She went into the kitchen to have a coffee and found out that Jackson has already been fed. The water bowl full stood next to the food one as well. There was a note on the table. “Jackson has eaten. I also left some pancakes under the plate for ya. The frozen soya yogurt’s in the fridge. I work til 5, bae til 4. He’s picking me up after. I hope you’re at least fine. Gonna talk later if you’ll be up to it. Later, B.” Mad smiled a little bit. It was really nice of Brooklyn. She petted Jackson and kissed him on the forehead, then took a glance under the plate and decided to have two pancakes with the coffee.  After late breakfast/lunch Mad took Jackson for a walk and she run a bit as well but she did not feel it much today. Anyway, the weather was nice and warm but not too hot so she fancied a longer stroll with her lovely, fat dog. He seemed to enjoy it as usual so she was happy to see him having fun, chasing after birds that were flying nearby and playing with the sticks. It mood her up a tiny bit and when they got back to the apartment it was already 3 pm. She picked one of the volumes with works by Samuel Beckett and opened it on “Waiting for Godot”. She was always coming back to this story with great pleasure. Mad decided to reread it as she got almost for hours to meeting with LaToya and the crew. She was flipping the pages while touching old, smelly paper and floating deeper and deeper into the plot of the play which was both relaxing and clearing feeling. After she finished the text she closed her lids and breathed. It was a wonderful idea to get back to this story now. She stood up to heat some of the leftover tofu with vegetables from yesterday as her dinner which was probably worse idea. It gave her a feeling like it all smelled like Paris’ perfumes. It made the events from the previous day so vivid that she decided to put the food aback and went to have a shower and dress up into her more formal suit and tie. When she fixed it, she lit a cigarette and looked through the window into the widening darkness of the upcoming evening. She put her left hand into the pocket and inhaled the smoke deeply. After that, she took all of her notes and packed them into the case. When she entered the 20th floor where the company was situated the secretary told her to go to the conference room and wait. In few minutes came LaToya with few various people who greeted her politely and they all sat to talk about the book. All of them felt same strong prediction that this volume was going to be really appreciated by the public and they all agreed that she has talent. Actually, it was more of that then telling her what should she change or correct. LaToya introduced her Nazir - the Indian designer who was said to be the author of her book’s cover. He showed her the ideas he had already prepared and most of them were stunning. The work was really the greatest remedy for Leo to got out of the sickening thoughts and focus on what was important for her. After the meeting, they paced fast forward with the process which Leo enjoyed a lot. She was packing back her things to the case still reflecting on the book when LaToya suggested they should have dinner together to celebrate the next huge step. Actually, Leo felt very hungry after refusing to eat dinner before heading to this appointment so she accepted the proposition. They took her Lincoln and Mad drove them to the best Italian restaurant nearby that LaToya chose. Mad was not used to go to fancy places but she thought it is a special day and she can afford it one time so she will not disagree. Moreover, she was an aficionado of Italian cuisine so it was a wonderful idea to go and have a dish there. Like Mad has expected, the place was very sophisticated and elegant. She was probably one of very few people who was up to go there and not feel strange. Very common opinion shared by many was that going to expansive restaurants was the habit of incredibly rich individuals who were actors in their lives and preferred to eat some outstanding, pricey food while doing their businesses with not a bit of honesty or caring. For Mad it was more like the very festive, elegant way of spending time with the others. She was not wealthy enough to let it happen on a regular basis but she did not mind it at all and in times when situation was self-explaining she was always willing to eat some good food in places that got some charm in them. She held the door for LaToya and helped her with the coat. They were seated close to the window and suggested wine for the start. After a little while they were sipping a red drink while looking ahead for the landscape of New York City at night and it was incredibly beautiful. “I’m really glad that I’m the one who’s going to publish your book. Because I’ll take lots of credit for it. It’s a win-win without any doubts.” “Well, I have to say that I share your opinion. Thank you, LaToya. I’m glad for what you’ve been doing.” replied Mad and took a sip of her drink. “You’ve mentioned one time that you were living in Spain. How was that?” this question seemed out of the blue but Leo did not mind to answer that one. “I liked it a lot but I missed by brother and there came a time when I just had to get back where I belong.” “It’s here or in Africa?” her sight was very thrilling and approaching. “For now I can say it’s here but I’ll definitely get back to Africa sometime soon”. LaToya smiled a little. “Get back. May I ask why Africa or does it really not have an answer at all?” “I guess you know as much as I know. That’s just this feeling of freedom, of belonging. I feel this also here in New York but Africa has one more advantage. I feel like when I'm there I am able to enjoy life more. I am more thankful for every second, more in a moment here and right now. I don’t know but there are two places for me that matters. New York City and the African continent and I can’t even explain it properly.” LaToya took her half empty glass and looked into the surface while moving it in the different angle. “You know, my brother was black. He had a huge obsession or passion on Africa as well. He wanted to go there and he was speaking about his origins all the time. I really saw it as a grief. I knew that was the grief he had. I don’t understand why. He was born there but he was always speaking about slavery, about how the States are romanticised by almost every American and European and many more people. I did not understand him but I tried. He got married. His wife really quickly got pregnant and Martin was beyond happy. He wanted this so much and when the daughter was born it turned out it’s not his. The daughter was white. He was disappointed because his wife didn’t tell him she got pregnant with white guy a little before they met. That broke him. He left her but then he got his things together and got back because he really loved her. They managed to get out of this but when their daughter was three, Lula died because she had a car accident. Martin had to put his dreams of getting to Africa aback and focus on rising daughter. He really learnt to love her paying no attention to the genetics. We were living together, supporting each other but I still didn’t understand him a tiny bit. We were not close but I liked his daughter. She was the only child I could manage to accept and even like. The worst thing..” LaToya finished the last sip from the glass and moved her glass towards Mad then gave a look on the bottle so the younger woman poured her more wine. “The word thing was one Martin got cancer. I saw him falling apart entirely. He was not able to accept he’ll never go to Africa. He stopped even caring for his daughter. She just closed himself to everybody and I only heard some tribal music from his room, sometimes sobbing, you know. I knew he’s not going to make it because he was not even fighting. I didn't understand him. I have never managed to do this but strangely enough, I feel like being with you makes me more understanding to him. And even more oddly, you remind me of him. That’s why I hired you. Because all of this made me expect you’ll be the right person. Passionate-driven. You really love Africa. And you write a book about what you love. How could that not be a success?  She smiled again and took another sip of the wine. Mad was quite surprised by her lack of cold today. Maybe, it was too far speaking but definitely she was more personal to her. Leo took her hand on the table and rub it gently. LaToya let her do this. They finished their drinks after food not speaking much after this story. “Would you like to have a smoke at my office?” said LaToya finally when they have already float a little into thoughts. “I would really not mind it at all.” replied Leo and helped her out with the coat. 

* LaToya rolled a joint really quickly and used her tongue to stick the paper together. Leo was impressed as she never learnt how to roll the cigarettes or joints that fast. She normally simply remained with plain package of Marlboro. The businesswoman sat on the table and lit the joint with half closed eyes. Mad stood up and walked towards her. She put her hands on the table having LaToya in between and she opened her mouths with the smoke in her direction. She gave her the joint. Mad took a good inhale and put her hand on LaToya’s waist. She laughed shortly and put the joint to the ashtray for a moment. They shared a glance for a while, Leo put hands on her cheeks and kissed her lips really deeply. LaToya unzipped her pants. They were kissing and Leo found her way to the zip of the older woman’s skirt. This time, under that she was wearing tights with garters and it was mind-blowing how she was looking that good in them. Leo was able to relax but she was not sure if she is really making a progress on not mixing more things but it was good to be not focused on the case with Paris. She moved her hand between LaToya’s legs and let herself melt into this gestures and all the fantasies she has had about the woman from the first moment they have met. Mad really needed that time after all that has happened. LaToya moaned louder and Leo moved her fingers upper. She just did not expect one thing but right now it was not the time she will figure it out. But without a doubt, she will do it soon.

[vvardenfellcat]

4E 10, High Rock

A massive splash broke the relative quiet of the morning forest, startling a mass of birds that shot up into the canopy with alarmed cries. The source of said splash shot up out of the water, spitting out liquid before barking out in Jel.

“<Missed! Get it!>” A black Khajiit sprang from rock to rock, eyes on the massive fish that was going to be their next meal if he had anything to say about it. He could see the tear in the tailfin where Jeer’s spear had nicked it when it sprang out of the shallower waters, scooting upstream in an attempt to escape. J’hasi dove after the flash of scales, teeth sinking into the top of the tail, claws missing the first swipe, leaving him to get smacked right in the face with a panicking, indignant fish. The second swipe and claws held fast, the Khajiit surfacing quickly, trying to keep his mouth shut even as a mild panic fluttered in his chest at not being able to properly breathe for a few moments. Jeer caught up a few moments later, chest heaving.

“<I can’t have you showing me up like this. What would the tribe say?>” J’hasi huffed with a mouthful of squirming fish, grabbing it more firmly with his hands before snapping its spine, holding it out for his friend to take.

“<Fen don’t miss next time.>” Jeer sighed, taking the fish by the gills, a slight smile on their face at the weight.

“<And here I thought you didn’t mind getting a little wet.>”

“<I don’t. I just don’t appreciate getting smacked in ff-thhe face with my breakfast.>” He shook his head, water sprinkling over the surface of the small river shallows before he got up, more water pouring from his sodden fur and clothes. Jeer made their way back to shore, grabbing their knife and setting to work gutting their catch, splitting it in half for the two of them to share, scale side down on the rock.

“<Come, while it’s fresh.>” J’hasi sighed, wringing out his mane before sloshing out of the water too, dropping to a crouch to pick up his half and sinking his teeth into the flesh, picking a bone out before chewing, setting to work to pick out the other bones from what he wasn’t currently chewing. Jeer bit into their half of the fish with a smirk.

“<Only hatchlings pick at their meals, Marsh.>”

“<I’m also fond of not choking.>” Jeer shrugged, continuing to eat, looking out over the river, the trees... They sighed.

“<I hope this search of yours is fruitful. These trees are far too small. I feel like I’m going to get snatched up by something with nasty talons and a hungry belly.>” J’hasi huffed.

“<Ff-this place isn’t nearly as dangerous as home, relax. Fhe worst is probably a bear.>”

“<What’s that?>”

“<Um...a big furry fing wiff-with teefth and claws and a nasty temper. Powerful, too.>”

“<...so like the thing you’re trying to cure yourself of.>”

“<...if you wanna put it fat way...>”

“<Can’t say I’m eager to meet such a thing. I don’t mind testing my craft, but I’d like to live long enough to improve upon it.>”

“<Fen practice your aim first.>” J’hasi took another bite of fish, a little more aggressively than needed when it jerked, as if the fish was trying to get revenge on him for catching it. Jeer finished their half, licking their teeth clean of flesh with a satisfied hum.

“<Wonder if the birds here are any good. You said we were going where there wasn’t much standing water, right?>”

“<Birds around here are too small. Not worth fhe effort.>”

“<Iunno, that one seems a decent size.>” J’hasi turned, freezing mid-chew when he saw a massive raven perched on a fallen log nearby, watching the two of them. The scent would’ve given it away if the size wasn’t unusual enough. Burning herbs, entrails...and too intelligent of a stare for just any normal bird. He stared back for a moment before dropping his fish to the rocks and darting after it. The raven startled and flared its wings before taking off into the forest. He could hear Jeer calling after him, but he was not going to let this bird go. He knew what it really was.

J’hasi was still a little tired from the fish escapade before, feeling that itch that was growing stronger night by night, one he tried to stave off by eating more raw meat than usual, one that he didn’t want to give into right now.

The itch that was the damn reason he was chasing this thrice-damned bird into the forest like a madman in the first place.

“<Marsh! Slow down!>” The enormous raven let out a caw as if agreeing, which set the Khajiit’s jaw on edge, baring his teeth before he dipped under another branch, then sprang off of a fallen trunk, fangs and claws bared. The bird fluttered in a panic, losing some speed, which cost it its slim lead. The moment the Khajiit caught it, it poofed into a cloud of acrid smoke that stung his nose and eyes, the two of them hitting the ground hard, tumbling to a halt. Jeer caught up a few moments later, finding the Khajiit panting, knifepoint at the hollow of a bewildered and out-of-breath Breton’s throat. The Breton panted out a laugh.

“You certainly caught me off-guard. So, is there something I can do for you? A spell? A love potion? A tonic to soothe that awful temper of yours?” J’hasi hissed.

“Cut the games. I know what you are.”

“Clearly, else you wouldn’t’ve been so determined to chase down a harmless bird.” Jeer made a confused noise behind him.

“<Uh...where’s the bird?>” J’hasi growled, ears flicking back.

“<Later, Jeer.>” The Breton smiled.

“I don’t suppose your large friend there could retrieve my cloak? It’s a bit nippy out here.”

“Don’t think so. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“<It’s naked.>”

“<Quiet.>” The Breton sighed.

“It’s hardly civilized to have a conversation like this. What if someone happened upon us? Knowing those living in the cities, they’d gossip about you two for years.”

“Don’t care. You have information I want, and you’re going to tell me if you want your throat to stay intact.” The man looked at him closely, then chuckled.

“My, my, you do have a problem.” J’hasi growled, only to yelp when the Breton moved quicker than he expected, grabbing his wrist and twisting it around behind his back, freeing himself in the process. The Breton then released him, dropping the dagger and brushing himself off, looking up at Jeer.

“Would you be so kind as to return my cloak to me? I daresay that having a conversation in the nude isn’t how I would spend a lovely morning like this.” Jeer stared back blankly.

“<Uh...what did they say?>” J’hasi rubbed his wrist, glaring at the witch.

“<Give me his cloak.>”

“<I don’t think that’s what they s->”

“<Just give it.>” Jeer sighed, picking up the worn heavy fabric from where it was tangled on a branch.

“<Touchy, touchy. Are you going to tell me where the bird went?>”

“<Fhis is fhe bird, Jeer. Don’t let him have fhe cloak, it might be how he shapeshifts.>” The Breton frowned a little.

“If you’re concerned that somehow having the cloak means I’ll turn back into a bird and fly away, I assure you that I can do that well enough in just my skin. I just want my pipe is all. And some tea, if you’re willing to have some manners for five minutes.” J’hasi scowled as Jeer handed him the cloak, eyes locked on the Breton.

“You shift, I’ll do the same, and I won’t be so gentle catching you the second time around.” The Breton smiled.

“No need for that, I’m afraid. You’ve tuckered me out. I really should get out more.” J’hasi gave the cloak a small sniff, catching the scent of herbs and the like, but nothing like the cloud that had surrounded them after he caught the witch. He handed it over with a scowl, the Breton accepting it gratefully.

“Thank you. Now, have a seat. You’ve intrigued me, so I’ll be willing to talk for a little bit, provided you keep your teeth and claws to yourself.” J’hasi warily watched as the Breton sat down, wrapped up in his cloak before extracting a few pouches and a waterskin, patting around a moment before apparently finding the pocket that contained a long pipe. He tamped down some dried herbs into the bowl and lit it with a hiss of fire magic from his fingertips, waving it off once the insides were lit enough for a few puffs.

“Of course if you’re so adamant on standing, you can do that too. It’s terribly rude, I was hoping that someone like you would have some manners. Travelers from Black Marsh, I presume?” J’hasi’s ears flicked back.

“What makes you so sure?” The Breton smirked around his pipe, a curl of smoke escaping from between his teeth.

“Your large friend is dressed like someone from the inner marsh tribes, as is the dialect of Jel you’re both speaking comes from. I spent a fair amount of time in Black Marsh, sadly not long enough for my liking, but when you run across the wrong clan, sometimes a retreat is the smartest thing to do.” He beamed at Jeer.

“<Sit, enjoy yourself for a moment. No harm done, just a little misunderstanding is all.>” Jeer’s eyes widened at the Jel. Accented, but understandable. They sat down with a thump, tail curling around their legs.

“<So are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to keep sitting in the dark?>” The Breton smiled, pulling out a cup from his cloak, pouring in water from the skin, already piping hot to steep before offering it to Jeer.

“<My name is Grantham. I’m a witch of Glenmoril Wyrd, which is why your friend here took after me like a mad lupe.>” Grantham smiled, giving the Khajiit a knowing look.

“<I presume you’ve run into others of my coven?>” J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled a little before Jeer gave him a look, to which he dropped to sitting in the grass as well, fingers still curled around the handle of his dagger.

“<Could say fhat. Fhey said fhey cured me, but next mooncycle I shifted. Been looking for fhem ever since.>”

“<Names?>” J’hasi hissed a little.

“<Ettiene, Isobel, and Fallaise.>” Grantham hummed, nodding a little as he poured a cup for the Khajiit, setting it in front of him, then a cup for himself, corking his waterskin and placing it back into his cloak once more.

“<I’ve heard of them. New, relatively speaking. Imperials from Cyrodiil that learned the art. Wouldn’t trust them for an inch.>” J’hasi’s ears flicked back.

“<I got fhat already.>” Grantham chuckled, smoke ghosting between his teeth before he removed his pipe, inhaling the fumes from his tea before drinking.

“<Yes, which is why you hunted me down like the wolf lurking just under your skin. Persistent. Focused. You wear it well. Better than most.>” J’hasi scowled.

“<I want it gone.>” The Breton smiled, replacing his pipe between his teeth.

“<Rejecting a blessing from Hircine himself is a bad move. But I understand not everyone sees it as such.>” The Khajiit’s ears flicked back.

“<It wouldn’t be the first time I rejected a Daedra’s ‘gift’.>”

“<Aren’t you a bold one.>” Grantham turned to Jeer-rah.

“<The tea is fine to pair with fish, my friend.>” Jeer frowned, glancing at J’hasi before stuffing the fish that the Khajiit had ditched earlier into their mouth.

“<I’m just following them. And listening.>” The Argonian picked up the tea and gave it a sniff, fans spreading before taking a sip, eyes closed. Grantham chuckled.

“<You’ll go far. It is a pleasure to meet you.>” He turned back to J’hasi.

“<If it’s a cure you want, you’ve caught the wrong bird. My specializations lie elsewhere. Hircine and I are not on speaking terms currently, and I haven’t been in contact with the rest of the coven in some time.>” J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled, the Breton holding up a hand to stop him when his mouth opened.

“<However...I will make inquiries the next time I come in contact with them. Sniff me all you want, you’ll find that I rarely lie. Little point in it when you’re conversing with one who can smell deceit. Speaking of...>” He pulled a smaller pouch out of his cloak, sprinkling a few petals into the Khajiit’s tea before handing him the rest of the pouch.

“<Having a bit of that before bed will ease your temper. I’d suggest allowing your wolf some human flesh now and then. While most would be opposed to that sort of diet, I understand that some Saxhleel tribes practice cannibalism, so perhaps that isn’t outside of your comfort zone.>” J’hasi’s eyes narrowed.

“<I fhought you said fhis wasn’t your area of expertise.>” Grantham smiled.

“<Learning to appease lycanthropes is part of the job. Many of Hircine’s faithful are blessed in a way as you are, and do not handle it well. A cure isn’t as widely distributed.>” The Breton smiled, taking another sip of his tea.

“<Feel free to seek out other witches if my answers do not please you. You’ll find that a great many are not as sociable as I. Especially after such rude treatment.>” Grantham took a deep pull of his pipe before looking at J’hasi more seriously.

“<Mind your temper. Even with the full moon approaching, not all witches are so accommodating.>” The Breton finished his tea with a sigh, a few more puffs on his pipe before the smoke abruptly ceased from the bowl, breathing the rest out in a curling stream from his mouth.

“<And now...I must take my leave. Enjoy the tea. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.>” Grantham pulled his cloak around himself, then a puff of smoke and he was an enormous raven once more, and now that he wasn’t flying away, the Khajiit noticed that his feathers were faintly patterned with the same markings as his tattoos. And then he flew away. Jeer smiled.

“<For a smoothskin that turns into a bird...I like them.>” A moment’s pause and the Argonian looked over to J’hasi’s tea.

“<Are you gonna drink that?>” J’hasi sighed, picking it up and smelling it, finding nothing that seemed to be poison, then took a sip.

...it was delicious.

[sickficsbypyroyoshi]

Pyro’s archived fics #4: Tyler vs Norovirus

Again, the characters here are based on people I’ve known in real life. Additionally, parts of this story are true. The puke parts are all made up, but the field trip to the electrical convention, someone’s name tag being misprinted, Creeper Face, etc all actually happened.

At first, Tyler had simply assumed he was ravenously hungry, but now that he had food in front of him, he wasn’t so sure if he wanted it or not.

He’d woken up with a stomach ache and thought it was from hunger despite practically stuffing himself with food the night before. It wouldn’t be too surprising, as he did have a really fast metabolism. Since he didn’t have much time on this particular morning, he’d only had a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice for breakfast. It wasn’t satisfying and didn’t relieve the ache at all. In fact, it had only intensified by the time he got to school at 7 am.

Today was going to be a field trip day. He and all the other students in the electrical program were taking a trip to the Metropolitan Electrical Convention, and he had to be present at 9:00 am sharp in order to receive the points for it.

It was currently 7:38am, and he was sitting in the cafeteria area with three of his classmates, Devon, Zach and Sadie. The four of them would be carpooling together. Devon, an avid pot smoker, was a little short kid who had a different hat for every day of the week, while Zach was tall and lanky. He was a straight up redneck type who could go on for ages about hunting and at age twenty six, he was one of the older guys in the class. Sadie was the only girl in the class, and despite being the high maintenance hair and makeup must be perfect type, she was just as savvy with tools as her male classmates.

Tyler didn’t pay much attention to them. He stared at the sausage breakfast bowl in front of him. It was compiled of sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs and cheese on top of tater tots. Usually he wasted no time in devouring them, but something was off today. His abdominal pains had reached the point of being quite uncomfortable, but for some reason he had no real desire to eat despite being convinced he was hungry.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed that Zach was giving him a strange look.

“What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you going to eat that?”

“Uh, yeah. I was just zoning out.” Tyler responded. It was partly true.

He forced himself to eat the food in front of him. The first few bites had to be choked down, but eating did seem to help ease the pain a little, which made him relax a bit. He finished the whole thing and drank the large Pepsi he had bought to go along with it. Once he had demolished his food, he no longer felt agonizingly hungry, but really full. Little did he know all he was doing was temporarily diffusing the sickness that was building inside of him.

Once the four of them finished eating, they headed outside towards Sadie’s car. She was the most familiar with the city, so she would be driving.

After they all climbed into her car, they were on their way to the convention. It would be about a forty five minute drive.

Even though the drive wouldn’t be that long, the fear that he was sick was beginning to creep into the back of Tyler’s mind. He didn’t have a phobia of being sick, but he couldn’t evict the thought that he’d feel nauseous and throw up while at the convention. He usually got a stomach virus once every few years or so, and they all started the same: first he’d think he was incredibly hungry, then he’d feel overly stuffed and bloated, then the nausea would hit after that.

As much as he tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, he couldn’t ignore the rapidly growing stuffed feeling in his gut. The breakfast bowls were on the filling side, but they had never left him this heavy and bloated. He felt like he had eaten several of them.

Devon lit up a joint and took a long drag of it. “Any one want to hit this?”

“Give it here.” Zach swiped it and took two tokes before offering to pass.

Tyler held out his hand. Just because he didn’t feel that great didn’t mean he was going to turn down free weed. He took a drag and held the smoke in as he passed the joint to Sadie. She too took a hit.

“You think Creeper Face is going to be there?” she asked.

“I hope not. Besides, he’s gotten like six DUIs. How would he even get there?” Tyler responded.

“He’ll find a way. For him, getting another DUI must be like getting a trophy. He acts all pissed off but in some fucked up way he’s probably proud of it. I mean, I learned my lesson after two DUIs.” Zach noted.

For some odd reason, thinking about Creeper Face made Tyler really notice the expansive, heavy feeling in his stomach. He shifted around in his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable, but it wasn’t working. As the minutes ticked by, the fullness hadn’t dwindled even a little, which indicated that something definitely wasn’t right.

He refrained from mentioning it and looked out the window. His classmates were blathering about something, but he didn’t feel like saying much and just added a word here and there.

A sudden spike of mild nausea took him by surprise. It wasn’t strong enough for him to ask Sadie to stop the car, but it was enough for him to notice. When he took another drag from the joint, it receded a little, but wasn’t completely vanquished. He shut his eyes and tried ignore it for the remainder of the ride, but it didn’t work, mainly due to his classmate’s blathering.

“People need to stop licking Teddy Bridgewater’s asscrack. The dude has played ONE game and looks like he’s about twelve.” Zach rambled.

“He’s better than Christian Ponder! Ponder’s the reason why the Vikings have sucked so bad lately.” Devon countered.

“No, the Vikings have always sucked. They sucked in 1963, and they still suck now.” Sadie corrected.

Tyler didn’t give even a fraction of a crap. He was more of a Packers fan anyways.

He passed time by looking out the window and focusing on the skyline to try and take his mind off of the nagging nauseous feeling that was worming its way back.

He was feeling pretty sick by the time they arrived in the city, and his hope that it would pass had been shattered. Even the slightest bump in the road seemed to increase his nausea.

His companions were pretty baked at this point and failed to notice his predicament. Any trace of a high that Tyler had felt had been replaced by his rapidly growing queasiness.

Finally after several missed turns, circling blocks multiple times and a women can’t drive joke from Zach, Sadie located a parking garage with open spots. They parked on level F and had to walk several blocks to the convention center.

The air was rather frigid for early November, and it was actually cold enough to allow for an inch of snow had it been in the forecast.

Three members of the quartet whined about being cold, but Tyler felt hot in addition to feeling sick. By this point, he knew he was well and truly fucked. The signs of a stomach virus were all there: intense abdominal pain followed by bloating, nausea and heat waves, which suggested he would most likely end up down on his knees in the bathroom at some point in the day.

Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and remained silent as he followed his classmates to the convention center’s main doors.

The cavernous building was packed with people standing in large clusters, thus barricading paths and bringing a claustrophobic feel to the place. Tons of temporary directional signs were scattered around, and each one had at least five and sets of numbers arrows on it.

Tyler passed a bathroom and debated on wether or not to go inside. He thought about getting it over with and forcing himself to throw up, but if he did have norovirus or something similar, it wouldn’t help much, so he decided to forgo that idea.

He felt a bit sicker as he was herded towards a large conference room on the first floor. Before any of the students could actually browse the show booths, they had to sit through half an hour of guest speakers.

One of his instructors met the class outside of the room and handed out their name tags. Devon’s nametag had been misprinted as Devson. Normally Tyler would have found that amusing, but at the moment he was not in a laughing mood.

He was dreading this presentation and doubted that he’d make it through the whole thing. What if he puked during the presentation? Not only would everyone be able to see and hear it, there was always the risk that it would set off someone else and start a chain reaction puke a thon. He tried to push the thoughts out, but they stayed and tormented him.

And so he sat there in misery, not listening to a single word guest speaker number one was saying. The temperature in the room was sweltering, partly due to his sickness and partly due to the sheer number of people occupying it. He briefly removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before putting it back on, but it did nothing to help cool him down.

Another nausea wave ripped through him, and he involuntarily emitted a soft moan. With the nausea came a hot sensation the started in his stomach and radiated outwards. At this point he knew he was definitely going to puke, it was just a matter of when. He hoped that it could wait, but it wasn’t too likely. Some people could fight off the nausea and banish it completely, but Tyler wasn’t one of those people.

He thought about all the things he had eaten in the last 24 hours that were currently residing in his small intestines. The sausage bowl, large Pepsi, toast and orange juice from this morning, the entire pepperoni pizza from last night, and the LeeAnn Chin bourbon chicken entree from yesterday afternoon, all of which he’d be seeing again soon. He could practically taste them.

Time had never seemed to pass so slowly. After what seemed like centuries, the second guest speaker stepped down and the final one took the stand.

Tyler gripped his abdomen as another intense peak of nausea washed over him. It reminded him of a pulsating DC sinewave, with a sharp peak followed by a much flatter receding line, with another sharp peak right after it, only in this case it was peaks of nausea instead of electricity. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.

He must have looked quite sick, since his baked classmates finally noticed that he was struggling to hold his composure.

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so good,” Sadie commented.

Tyler shook his head. “No. I feel really sick.”

He wanted to get up and seek out a bathroom, but at the same time he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. Acid crept up his throat, and he was gripped by panic. He swallowed and tightly gripped the edge of his chair, trying his best not to puke on the floor. Unless he got up now, he wasn’t going to make it.

Thankfully, the final guest speaker ceased their speech and stepped down, signifying that everyone could leave the room.

Tyler felt dizzy as he stood up and once again choked back the chunks that were threatening to rise. He had to get out, but the people in front of him were taking their sweet time.

Somehow, he made it out of the room without exploding, but the panicky feeling returned when he realized that he didn’t have the faintest idea where the nearest bathrooms were. Time was up, so he’d have to settle for the next best thing. He spotted a large garbage can nearby and went for it.

He was about to be humiliated in public by puking in front of a bunch of strangers and it was going to suck, but it was his only option besides staying where he was and letting it all come out where he stood.

Right as he was about to lean over the garbage can, his path was intercepted by someone he didn’t want to see. Creeper Face stood there, and Tyler could tell he was going to say something douchy.

“So I almost got another DUI last night,” Creeper Face began.

“I don’t care, fuck off!” Tyler barely managed to get the words out as saliva dripped from his mouth.

“So I met these two hot chicks, right? They were underage, but I didn’t let that stop me, I got them both loaded. One just passed out, but the other one managed to lose both her bra and panties, if you know what I mean.”

Tyler retched.

“I fucked her senseless in every position. She wanted me so bad. And you know what? She was a virgin before she met me.” Creeper Face continued.

Tyler pictured his hideous, thirty something and extremely creepy classmate thrusting into some poor barely conscious girl who may or may not have consented, and the mental image pushed him over the edge.

He heaved and brought up a large mouthful of light brown puke which just barely made it into the can. He hovered over it and braced himself with his left hand while he put his right hand on his head to prevent his hat from falling off. The first mouthful was merely a precursor, and he knew that gastrointestinal violence was about to ensue. He was right. The second wave was more forceful and voluminous, and he could see it splash down all over the garbage in the bottom of the can. Since it was mainly composed of things he ate a mere two hours ago, it didn’t taste too bad.

People had taken notice of the scene by now and some were gawking, but Tyler did his best to ignore them. Thankfully most of the spectators had the manners to leave him alone as opposed to shoving an iphone in his face.

Right after expelling a third wave of liquified sausage and toast, he sensed his personal space being invaded.

Creeper Face had gotten too close for comfort and seemed to be watching him intently.

Tyler shuddered at this. He had heard of emetophilia, and while he wasn’t into it, if someone else got aroused upon seeing him puke, so be it. However, if that person was Creeper Face, that was more than a little disturbing.

His thoughts were interrupted as he retched noisily and continued to puke his guts out rather violently. The orange juice burned as it came up, and it nearly made his eyes water. It was followed by a torrent that was 50% Pepsi, which only made the burning sensation worse. His throat was on fire by this point, but another plentiful wave came up before he got a break.

Once he was sure it was over, he slumped onto a nearby bench. Creeper Face followed.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like virgins?” he asked in a perverse manner.

Tyler just glared at him before putting his head in his hands. He didn’t have the energy to deal with that creepy asshole’s bullshit. He didn’t feel much better either, and it would probably only be a matter of time before round two would commence.

Despite that, he stayed at the convention for a little while in order to receive his points. He rejoined with his small group, bought himself a bottle of water to get the taste of barf out of his mouth and was relieved when Creeper Face was driven off after Zach and Devon threatened to kick his ass two on one for being a pervert.

Tyler absentmindedly browsed the booths. If he had felt better, he would have been more interested, so he briefly scanned them instead. Each booth had individual parts, a device, a motor, or even a full circuit on display. There were snacks as well as tons of parts and tools for sale, and many of the electricians present were named Mark, Bob or Dean. It was probably a mere coincidence, but Tyler thought that was a bit odd.

They stayed for another half hour or so before deciding to head out. Tyler didn’t object since he was beginning to feel crappy again. It wasn’t as bad as before, but he wanted to get home so he could lay down for a while. On his way out, he caught a glimpse of a peeved looking custodian cleaning out the garbage can he had puked in earlier.

His nausea level didn’t dramatically increase until they began the journey back to the school grounds. Not even five minutes into the drive, the rising and falling nausea peaks took him over again, and much faster than before.

“How are you feeling?” Sadie asked, as if reading his mind.

“Terrible.” Tyler admitted.

He didn’t have to throw up quite yet, but he could feel things sloshing around in his stomach. He shut his eyes and rested his head on the back of Sadie’s seat for several minutes. Just like earlier in the day, he could feel every bump in the road and the need to puke again increased every time Sadie did a jack rabbit start or sudden stop. After a while of this, he was awash with nausea and felt his throat expand. Instead of suffering like he did back at the convention, he decided to get it all over with and ask to be let out of the car.

“Can you stop? I feel really sick.” he asked desperately. He had a hard time forming the words and subconsciously knew he had waited too long to ask.

“I’m afraid not. We’re on the highway. Can you hold on a bit?” Sadie questioned.

“He could puke out the window,” Devon suggested.

“No way. That could be a safety hazard for the people behind us. He’s going to have to wait until I can get off the highway.” Sadie countered.

Tyler gagged and knew he was doomed as a copious amount of vomit surged up his throat. He put a hand to his mouth and tried to hold it back, but it was no use. It gushed through his fingers and rained down onto his shirt, pants and the seat, sending hundreds of thousands of norovirus particles in every direction.

“Oh shit! No way!” Zach, who was in the back with him, tried to move further away, but he had nowhere to go and was bombarded with the virus particles. He swallowed more than enough of them to make him sick.

Tyler forcefully threw up all over the back of Sadie’s seat, making an even bigger mess. He had no control over it, and it felt like he was bringing up everything he had eaten in the past year. It was starting to become painful. Yes, he had eaten a lot, but how much more could there be? Apparently quite a bit, as he leaned forward and continued to puke profusely all over the plastic car mats. A sizeable pool had formed on the floor at this point, and some had gotten on his shoes as well.

“No offense Tyler, but I can’t concentrate on driving with you puking demonic possession style in the back of my car.” Sadie said bluntly. She inhaled many norovirus particles, as did Devon.

In a matter of seconds, Sadie, Devon and Zach all consumed thousands of those malicious microbes, which only ensured that they’d be sharing Tyler’s fate within a day or so.

After Tyler was finished, he panted and tried to regain his composure. He didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent. He was unable to look his classmates in the eye and he was beginning to feel rather humiliated as he sat there covered in his own puke. It was starting to soak into his clothes. The silence that fell over the car was turning awkward, so he finally broke it.

“Uh..Sadie, on a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m not mad, but you’re paying for the interior car wash when I can find one.”

It took her twenty minutes to find a car wash that offered both exterior and interior washes, and by that time all four windows had been rolled way down despite the cold temperature.

The newly infected trio waited outside as the vehicle was taken inside to be thoroughly cleaned, and Tyler moseyed over to the adjacent gas station to get himself cleaned. He received more than a few stares as he maneuvered through the store isles.

When he slunk into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, he realized just how badly he had nailed himself. The puke was immediately noticeable, as the brown clashed with his green T shirt. There was no point trying to save it since it would likely be stained forever. He settled for wiping all the chunks off of himself, and that alone required using many sheets of thin, sub par paper towels.

After combating the damage, Tyler waited around for a couple minutes. He still felt sick and wanted to be rid of the offending virus. Despite the fact that he had thrown up quite copiously twice already, he still didn’t feel empty. There was definitely more to come.

He hovered over the toilet and waited for a while, purposely thinking about grotesque things such as pus filled abscesses exploding onto a naked Creeper Face, but to no avail. Nothing happened.

Several minutes later, he gave up and went back outside. His classmates were waiting, along with Sadie’s now sparkling clean car. They asked again if he was alright, he said no, and so they got a bag for him before getting back in the vehicle.

Tyler reached out for the door handle, but suddenly stopped and paused. His throat expanded and he dry heaved with no warning. Whatever was left inside him was coming up at an alarming speed.

He barely had time to turn away before he sent a waterfall of sour tasting liquid splashing all over the pavement. He dropped to his knees and puked violently onto the ground, the ensuing retching and splashing sounds rousing the attention of his classmates. There weren’t many solids left at this point since it was mostly made up of bile and water. Each heave was accompanied by a stab of gut twisting pain, which only made the experience worse.

“Damn, he’s really sick. Maybe we should get him some medicine or something.” Devon stated the obvious.

“Yeah, you aren’t going to die are you?” Zach inquired. “Because that would be tough to explain to the cops.”

“I just want it to stop,” Tyler moaned in between retches, only to be cut off as he expelled more opaque watery puke.

He had officially reached the stage of wanting to curl into a ball and call for his mom despite being nearly twenty two. Not only that, but all of his control was gone. Of the three times he had puked today, not even once had he made it to the bathroom on time. It made him feel like he was about five.

He gagged and painfully puked up a few small waves of stomach acid before he was finally finished. His entire abdomen hurt from throwing up so much, and there was a large part of him that wanted to lay down right there in the parking lot.

Slowly but surely, he felt a teensy bit better as the minutes went by. By no means did he feel good, he was more in between super crappy and really crappy, but at least it was a slight improvement.

Eventually he felt okay enough to get back in the car. Even though he had successfully eliminated a good number of the norovirus particles, he had a nagging suspicion that it wasn’t quite over yet.

[askformerwarblerhunter-blog]

Para || When In Greece...

WHO: Hunter & Sebastian WHERE: Greece! WHEN: 3/28/2017 WHAT: Little snippet of Hunter and Sebastian’s time in Greece. Warning - Little bit of NSFW tucked up in there!

Hunter could feel the warmth he'd forgotten in Ohio as his eyes started to open. At some point during the night he and Sebastian had tangled together, and with sleepy eyes he watched the sun filter over the toned (very naked) body beside him, letting the peace settle in. This hadn't been what he expected from the trip but... he was enjoying it. Immensely. "Mon chou," Hunter murmured - blatantly stealing the pet name he'd heard someone in the airport use. "Wake up. I'm going to make breakfast and you aren't going to want to miss it."

Sebastian wasn't sure the last the last time he slept so soundly. There was something about being in Greece with Hunter that relaxed him. Or maybe it was that he was worn out. Possible a mixture of the two. The trip was much more... romantic than he had ever planned, but he found that he really didn't mind the affectionate side of Hunter. Starting to stir, Sebastian rubbed at his face before letting out a yawn. "Did you just say that you were making breakfast?" He asked, looking up at the other. "Make sure to put pants on. I'd hate for you to burn yourself."

Hunter actively chuckled at the idea, looking down at the nudity under the sheet and smirking. "Pants are too much effort. I'll just put an apron on. Keep the front covered and burn-free, show off my ass." Instead of getting out of bed right away he leaned in and stole a kiss from Sebastian. Keeping it simple and easy so he didn't go into another round of pressing Sebastian into the mattress when he had a plan in mind. "Don't put on more than pants," he murmured, before sliding out of bed and heading towards the kitchen.

Sebastian chuckled, nodding lightly. "You do have an ass worth showing off," he agreed, knowing that he never tried to hide the fact that he regularly checked out Hunter's ass. Kissing Hunter back softly, Sebastian stole one more before letting Hunter get up. Raising an eyebrow at the other, he reached around, finding where his briefs had been discarded onto the floor. "Only pants it is," he murmured, sliding them on and getting up, watching Hunter's bare ass in front of him.

Hunter just winked and shook his ass a little, ever the tease. The kisses were something he could find himself getting used to so easily... especially with the atmosphere so relaxed and.... ​sweet​. "Thanks, babe, you're hot as fuck either way but I enjoy the view." A smirk was thrown over his shoulder as he strode naked towards the kitchen. The apron was quickly tied around his waist and he started getting ingredients out of the fridge. Eggs, vegetables, sausage and bacon. Fresh cheese. Coffee, which he promptly started going so the smell would fill the kitchen.

Sebastian wasn't kidding when he said that Hunter Clarington was going to be the death of him. The other male never failed to amaze him and Sebastian was finding that it was always something new when it came to Hunter. Like all the little kisses and cuddles to two had already shared. He couldn't shake the lady that had asked them how long they had been together out of his head and he followed Hunter into the kitchen. "I'm so glad we stocked up," he hummed, leaning against the counter. "Why didn't I know you could cook?"

Hunter let his gaze wander over Sebastian as he set everything up, talking like he wasn't a little distracted. How was Sebastian always so gorgeous? It made it hard to focus on the tasks at hand. "It's not something I'm amazing at, but eating healthy means knowing how to meal prep, how to make at least the basics." The coffee started easily and a couple of eggs were cracked into a bowl, but he paused and turned to the other man, not wanting to make the decision for him if he had a preference. "Hey babe, sausage and veggie omelettes or french toast with scrambled eggs and bacon?"

Sebastian could sense Hunter watching him which didn't bother him one bit. In fact, he was flattered to know that Hunter found him so attractive. "Well I'm sure you're much better than I am at it," he shrugged. "I can make toast," he laughed, still watching Hunter. It wasn't helping that every time Hunter turned away from him, he could see his ass which made Sebastian want to forget about eating altogether. "Sausage and omelette," he grinned.

Hunter chuckled easily and turned to his phone, unlocking it and handing it over to Sebastian. "Perfect. I'll make the food and you play DJ. Just choose something that's catchy." The eggs were mixed in with milk, salt, and pepper until it was completely blended and he got the butter sizzling on the cast iron pan. The smells that were filtering around the kitchen were almost as delicious as his company was. "Want to be my sous chef too?"

Sebastian took Hunter's phone, opening up his music, scrolling through before he ended up in his playlists. "Hey babe? ​ Douleur dans mon cul ​ ?" he asked in a perfect (in his opinion) French accent. "I think I should be able to find something in here," he smirked, settling on a song before sitting the phone down and walking so he was standing next to Hunter. "Just tell me what you need to me do."

Hunter flushed a little at the mention of the name - with an added shiver he tried to hide at how the French accent rolled off his tongue. "Might be a few songs you'd recognize in there. Or a few songs that you'd definitely like. There's the one I had playing the first time we made out in there." It wasn't an admittance exactly, but it wasn't a denial either. "Chop the veggies up for me, please? Just enough for the two of us."

Sebastian just smirked as he scrolled through the songs in the playlist. "I'm flattered the make out session was good enough for you to remember the song that was playing during it," he hummed. Actually, he was incredibly flattered that Hunter remembered it and that the other had a whole playlist of songs for well, them. "Sure thing," he smiled, starting to cut up what they'd need. He started to sing along to the song playing on Hunter's phone, winking over at the other.

Hunter grinned at the eggs as he whisked them up a little more, moving in enough to steal another kiss from Sebastian before getting back to the task at hand. "What can I say? Your lips are definitely something you don't forget." It was a strangely easy ambiance between them. They worked in tandem, Hunter glancing over every so often until the song registered. ​"Bed, stay in bed. The feeling of your skin locked in my head,"​ he sang, hips twisting as he poured the eggs into the pan and let them cook.

Sebastian paused his chopping long enough to kiss Hunter back with a smile. He didn't need to go chopping off a part of his finger while being distracted by Hunter's lips. "Is that so?" he murmured, kissing Hunter again. "I'm glad you didn't forget them. They'd be very sad," he smiled. He liked that they worked so well together. There was no feeling like he couldn't be himself at all and things with Hunter just felt ​ easy ​. Chuckling softly, Sebastian looked over at Hunter. ​"Smoke smoke me broke I don't care, I'm down for what you want,"​ he sang back, moving the veggies into a bowl.

Hunter 's hands went to Sebastian's hips briefly and just enjoyed the way the warm skin felt underneath his palms. "Want your lips happy. So much easier to make sure they're enjoying themselves that way." The words were said so solemnly, but the grin gave him away. ​Day drunk into the night, wanna keep you here 'cause you dry my tears. Summer loving and fights, how it is for us...” The words seemed strangely on point to where they were in some ways, but he didn't want to focus on that too much.

Sebastian leaned against Hunter for a moment, smiling lightly. He was afraid to admit how happy he felt with Hunter. How safe he felt when he was with the other male. His brain couldn't make sense of it, so he tried his best to ignore it. "My lips are happier when they're with your lips," he said. ​" Now if we're talking body, You got a perfect one, so put it on me, Swear it won't take you long, If you love me right, We fuck for life, on and on and on."

Hunter 's chin hooked over Sebastian's shoulder for a moment, and before he pulled away he brushed another kiss up over Sebastian's jaw and cheek, a brief brush of lips that was more for him than it was for Sebastian. "We're going to be breaking so many PDA etiquette rules this trip." His hips started moving to the beat, swaying easily. ​"Love can be love... Anything you want I'll give it up."​ The cheese got put into the omelettes, waving the spatula as Hunter let himself properly move to the music.

Sebastian stayed like that as if he needed a reason to believe that it wasn't his imagination that they were standing in a kitchen in Greece cooking breakfast together. He let a small breath out, smiling against Hunter's neck. "There's no one to get on our case about it here," he shrugged, moving slowly against Hunter as the song played on. went on. ​"If you love me right, We fuck for life, on and on and on.."

Hunter took a deep breath, making a note to ask Sebastian how he spelled so good later. "Even if there was we'd have no reason to listen to them. Our chance to do whatever we want." The song got a little louder and as soon as he saw a chance Hunter broke Sebastian away from the vegetables long enough for them to dance together. A stilted dance since he had to keep an eye on the eggs, but definite dancing. ​Lips, lips I kiss. Bite me while I taste your fingertips." He leaned in, nipping at Sebastian's fingertips.

Sebastian nodded, "They'd just be jealous they weren't as cool as us. I do think the lady in the grocery store was annoyed at all our vegetable innuendos," he laughed. Sebastian's arms found their way around Hunter's neck, moving with the other. It had been years since they had danced together and even when they had, it had never been anything like that they were doing there. ​" Bodies. Oh baby make 'em bodies, we just use them for fun. Bodies. Let's use 'em up 'till every little piece is gone," ​ he sang against Hunter's ear.

Hunter snorted loudly. "She was just jealous she didn't have anyone comparing carrots to sex toys with her, clearly. We were having so much more fun than she was." The rhythm flowed between them like a current. Something beautiful, in-sync. There was just as much simple dancing there as there was sexual implications, as much hands wandering as there was affection bleeding through. ​Now if we're talking bodies.... you've got a perfect one. So put it on me...."​ Which was exactly what he was doing, rocking slowly as the food cooked behind him.

Sebastian beamed at Hunter, laughing. "Everyone should have someone to compare carrots to sex toys to," he laughed. "Maybe not carrots, but food and sex could be fun. Chocolate. Whipped cream. Starwberries," he hummed, kissing along Hunters neck as they moved to the song. It was like the perfect blend of sexy and sensual and Sebastian didn't want it to end. As the song did come to a close, he stayed where he was, pulling Hunter in for another kiss.

Hunter waggled his eyebrows dramatically as Sebastian listed off items they could use. "Cherries, popsicles, candy necklaces.... not to mention alcohol if we're really feeling dangerous." A low whine spilled out at the way Sebastian's lips moved, his neck such a sensitive place that he had to control his reaction to it. Not that Hunter needed to. The kiss was exactly what he needed to pour into everything the song had brought to the surface. It didn't stay a peck, and he didn't try to make sure that it did.

Sebastian chuckled as he let his mind race about the different possible items they could add to the bedroom. "Ice. Not feed but incredibly hot. I know how sensitive you get when you're cold.." he smirked. "We might need to go back to the grocery store," he nodded. "Champagne and chocolate covered strawberries," he smirked. Sebastian loved the sounds Hunter made. They were enough to drive him absolutely mad, pulling Hunter close. Sebastian deepened the kiss almost instantly, moving so his body was flush against Hunter's.

Hunter let out the smallest groan of approval as his imagination started to wander. "Ice. Yes. Even better when it's hot enough outside to give contrast... Don't forget the supplies for body shots. You want to get into the idea of food and sex you can't forget body shots." The words were said so innocently but there was nothing innocent about the suggestion. God, how had he survived high school with Sebastian Smythe with his sexuality still hidden? Hunter backed them up against a countertop, hands just tight enough on slim hips to potentially leave marks as his head tilted to the side.

Sebastian couldn't help but groan at the thought of licking salt off of Hunter's body before taking a shot. "We have to do body shots," he nodded. "I never knew how badly I need to take a shot off of you," he smirked. Had Hunter been out in high school, Sebastian might have been even more distracted by him that he already was. He spent many Warblers rehearsals just staring at the way Hunter could move. Sebastian groaned, his back hitting the counter, feeling himself completely pinned there. He let his teeth nip at Hunter's skin, knowing that a mark would no doubt start forming the harder he bit at Hunter's neck. Like he wanted all of Greece to know Hunter was with him.

Hunter The noise sent heat spiraling down to coil in his stomach. He was nothing if not into sensory overload. "You can get it right in the grooves of muscle," he said with a matching smirk, apron doing very little to head just how built he was underneath it. Not to mention failing to hide how much even the simple kissing seemed to effect him. "Know what I need?" He circled Sebastian's wrists with his fingers and slowly lifted them up above Sebastian's head, holding them there but not trying to stop the hickeys Sebastian was in the process of making. There were already blooming bruises over the other man's neck and chest, it was only fair to let him return the favor.

Sebastian felt as though he couldn't get close enough to Hunter. It was like he needed to be as physically close to the other as possible and it still wasn't close enough for him. "Oh my God," he groaned, feeling how turned on Hunter was. His own underwear was doing nothing to hide the fact that he was reacting in exactly the same way Hunter was. Sebastian let Hunter move his arms, groaned softly at he left hickeys along Hunter's neck. "Mmmm...what do you need?" He breathed out once he detached his lips from Hunter'a skin.

Hunter slid his thigh between Sebastian's and rutted his hips forward like he was physically blocking the other man in. It was this mantra of ​too close isn't close enough​ and the eagerness he could so readily see was just amping it up. This hadn't been his plan for the morning but a pliable Sebastian was one of his new favorite things. "Need you all worked up and needy while we finish making breakfast." Both of Sebastian's wrists were transferred to one of Hunter's hands, and his free hand moved down to cup him through the pajama pants, squeezing his hand in a rhythm that matched the rhythm of the mouth leaving marks on him.

Sebastian couldn't believe how worked up Hunter was making him feel. He was completely at Hunter's mercy, trapped against the counter, trying to move against Hunter's leg. He felt like he needed more, but he had a good feeling that Hunter wasn't to to give it to him. Sebastian gasped, moaning as Hunter squeezed him. "Fucking hell, Hunter.." he mumbled, still kissing along Hunter's neck. He was trying to keep his hips still, not thrusting into the other's hand, but everything felt so good to him, he was on overdrive.

Hunter could've kept this up all morning. Pulling Sebastian closer and closer to an edge and pulling away every time, teasing him until it was inevitable that one of them broke.... but the eggs were going to burn and they had vegetables they needed ready so with one last squeeze to Sebastian's cock and one last lingering kiss Hunter pulled back and moved himself over to the stove again in a fluid movement that belied his own ​excitement​ tucked tight against his stomach. "Can't let this burn, can we baby?"

Sebastian could barely recognize what was happening. His brain (and cock) desperately wanted release, and the rest of his body just wanted Hunter to do something. ​Anything. ​ He could smell their food cooking, but the man in front of him was much more delicious sounding to him. Sebastian whimpered softly against Hunter's lips, not even imagining what he must have looked like in that moment. His pajama pants felt like they were doing nothing to conceal him and he couldn't seem to get his breathing to be even. "That'd be a shame if they did," he mumbled, trying to gain any ounce of composure left in him.

Hunter turned around and flat beamed at Sebastian. His cock was heavy against his stomach, the heat still settled everywhere, but it was such a heady rush to be able to bring someone so close and then make them wait that it was (almost) worth pulling away to get the omelette properly going. "Get this done and we can always pick back up where we left off," he murmured back, leaning enough to press a kiss to Sebastian's shoulder before focusing on not burning their food. God, how were they going to be social today? All Hunter wanted to do was spend the day in bed with the other man now.

Sebastian "Cocky bastard," he mumbled. Adjusting himself in his pajamas, Sebastian leaned against the counter with a sigh. "Fine," he said, separating the veggies so that they would be ready to be added to their food. He sat the veggies in front of Hunter, kissing his cheek. "You're an ass, babe," he teased, smacking Hunter's ass before going to get the coffees ready. "Also. What did you want to do today? Besides me," he smirked.

Hunter 's smirk broadened and he stretched his arms up above his head, biceps bulging in the process. The veggies were poured into the omelettes and the cheese added, but the slap to his ass had him jumping as much as the kiss to the cheek had calmed him down. "You fucking adore me being an ass. How boring would I be if I wasn't?" Watching Sebastian was quick becoming second nature, and he didn't try to hide the gaze. "Was thinking about Cape Sounion? It's the ruins of the ancient Greek temple of Poseidon. It's got a gorgeous area to swim and we can take a dozen pictures."

Sebastian couldn't get over Hunter's muscles. But he also didn't try to get over them either. He was going to keep looking at them as log as he could. Chuckling, Sebastian fixed both of their coffees exactly how he knew they liked them before sitting down at the table. "I'd be confused if you ever stopped being an ass," he nodded. "It's much more exciting this way," he grinned, looking back at Hunter. "Oh yeah. That sounds like a great place to go and visit. We can put those bathing suits to use," he laughed. "We should go to some fancy dinner tonight."

Hunter was pleasantly surprised that Sebastian had been paying enough attention to get his coffee order just right, and he was tempted to mention it but just murmured a happy "Thank you" instead. "Exactly. Being an ass is just complimentary to my natural-born personality," Hunter said with a solemnity that was clearly teasing. "Yes! Pretty sure we wouldn't be allowed to go nude there. Unfortunately. Name the place and I'm down. It sounds perfect. Want to use those suits we packed?"

Sebastian paid more attention to Hunter that he was willing to admit, or at least, he wasn't ready to admit the amount of details that he remembered about the other. "You're welcome, babe," he smiled, kissing his cheek again. "Sorry I can't make foam shapes," he teased, sitting back down at the table. "Well I think you'll like the swim suit I packed almost as much as you like me naked," he promised. "we didn't bring suits for nothing. I'll make us a reservation at the most expensive place I can find. We'll have to be on our best behaviors."

Hunter let his bottom lip poke out, pretending to pout in a manner he normally wouldn't do. "Yeah, yeah, we'll get you barista classes when we get back to Ohio," he promised, taking a long swallow of his coffee and letting out the happiest sigh at the way the warmth flowed down his throat. "Is this swim suit really stylish or is it a speedo? I'll love both those options." The idea of going to someplace extremely expensive sounded suspiciously like a date... but as long as Hunter didn't let that potential label fuck with his head it'd be fantastic, he could already imagine it. "We can order the most expensive food on the menu and get a giant bottle of the best wine they have."

Sebastian chuckled softly at the pout on Hunter's lips. He thought it was adorable, but he didn't dare say that to Hunter. "I'll be able to properly design your lattes then," he laughed. He took a sip of his own coffee and hummed softly. "Nicely brewed, Clarington," he praised, looking at Hunter. "I have both. One super stylish. Makes my ass look great. One speedo that is very tiny and also makes my ass look great. Your pick," he winked. Sebastian did his best to ignore how date sounding dressing up and going to an expensive dinner felt to him. Pushing the thought out, he nodded, "Leave the waiter or waitresses a very generous tip. Let them know we mean business."

Hunter liked the idea of it - he'd been joking about the class itself but it'd be pretty fun to do together. Maybe. Or was that getting too intimate? He couldn't tell. "I make a killer cup of coffee, Smythe. Killer cup of hot chocolate too but it's too warm for that." For a second he appraised Sebastian, tilting his head as he envisioned both. "Why don't we save the Speedo for our private beach and go with the one regular suit. Don't want someone else trying to take you home," he said with a teasing grin. "Make out in-between courses and let the waitress think whatever she wants if it means we get offered dessert for free."

Sebastian thought a class could be enjoyable. He never thought of taking classes like that, but he could see why it'd be a good class to take. "I've always wanted to take a bartending class too. And now that you're 21.." he mused. "We'll have to test the hot chocolate theory when we're back in Ohio," he grinned. "Oh please. Like you would ever let someone else take we home," he teased, nodding. "But that sounds like a good plan to me. Stylish suit it is," he smiled. "Oh for sure. Be all PDA-y."

Hunter leaned against the counter top easily, apron leaving his side exposed to the warm appliance. "Then we can book a class? Count me in, just don't make fun of me when I'd rather just drink the liquor straight." The idea of taking something back with them was a good idea... one he'd try and file away for the next frigid day that they had. "Of course I wouldn't." For a second his face went almost too serious but Hunter quickly turned it teasing again. "You'd get bored within in an hour and make your way back here." He stretched, moving to slide the omelettes onto plates. "Perfect. Maybe tomorrow we can schedule that couples massage? Spend the entire day relaxing, not doing anything we don't have to."

Sebastian nodded, "We'll look for classes when we get back." Laughing, Sebastian looked at him. "I'd much rather just drink the liquor, but learning to make tuff could be cool too," he shrugged. He liked that they were making plans for when they were back in Ohio and they weren't in their bubble anymore. It made him feel like things didn't end for them after the trip was other. It wouldn't feel right leaving Hunter to go be with someone else. "I'd get bored, come back to you for more excitement," he smirked. "Oh yeah. That sounds really nice. I could use a day of relaxing without a care."

Hunter chuckled. "This whole being twenty-one thing has its perks. It was so fucked up to be able to fight for my country, to get injured during it, but not be able to legally drink. Totally taking advantage of that now." Maybe he wouldn't admit it, but he let out a little sigh of relief at Sebastian's answer. It made him feel a lot better about his decision to turn down the guy who'd hit on him in the bathroom the night before. Like they were on the same page. "It's so nice to know I keep you entertained. Speaking of, we're going to utilize that hot tub before we go anywhere today." His hands went to Sebastian's shoulders and rubbed them, giving him a preview of an actual massage. "So could I. I'm glad we decided to stay longer."

Sebastian nodded, grinning. "Scandals isn't as fun as it was when we were in high school. It was much more exciting when I wasn't supposed to be drinking. But now I get get into actual clubs," Sebastian shrugged. "It is pretty weird that we can do certain things but not others." If he was being honest, he worried about Hunter when he was off in the service. He had no way to reach him and he was pretty sure Hunter's parents wouldn't track him down to tell him if something happened to Hunter. "This is our trip. I'm not going to go spend it with some other guy," he said. He wanted to spend his time with Hunter where they didn't have to think about what people would say about them. "Should I wear the speedo or nothing at all?" He hummed softly at the hands on his shoulders. "Best decision ever."

Hunter let out a low chuckle. "Don't I fucking know it. Only a pain in the ass when they actually checked the IDs thoroughly enough. I think they thought maybe the alcohol would impair our judgment? Though on our off time no one said much if we had some to drink, twenty-one or not. Lot of turning a blind eye." It wasn't his favorite thing to thing about. Serving his country was something Hunter would always be proud of, but what he'd seen was... exhausting, life-changing, and not something he'd be getting over anytime soon. Sometimes he still woke up in a cold sweat, even if he tried to hide that fact. "Good." He let the topic drop, but a small grin settled heavy on his face. "Nothing at all. I'm going to ban clothing in the room."

Sebastian chuckled, nodding. "They rarely checked well enough. I think they just wanted my tips I'd leave them," he grinned. He spent many nights at Scandals, getting to know the workers there. He'd gone home with plenty of guys from the bar, making himself a name for himself, not that he's overly proud of that now. "No clothes in here is a great plan to me," he smirked, sipping his coffee. "Well a hot tub and then going out exploring sounds like the perfect way to spend the day."

Hunter set his coffee and eggs on the counter and came up behind Sebastian, wrapping arms low around his waist and ducking his head to press a line of kisses over his neck and shoulder before pulling back and heading for the table. "Yes. Yes it does. Now get your sweet ass over here to eat so that we can hot tub for a bit then get ready and head out for the day. Don't want t'get hungry when we're in the middle of somewhere amazing."

[ahntravels]

Tallinn, condensed.

Where did I leave off...Oh, yes. Passed Customs, train, and then eventually, I landed here. 

I should backtrack a little bit. The train from St. Petersburg to Tallinn isn’t actually 7.5 hours in terms of actual moving time. You are stopped for about 40 minutes at the border in Russia while officers search your cabin (literally, search) and then bring a dog around to sniff your luggage.

In NYC, the drug-sniffing dogs look like this:

The dogs are usually German Shepherds, or some other similar breed. The dog that came into my cabin looked like this:

Except the dog was short and old. I thought it was a loose pet at first until I saw the Putin-esque guy following him and I realized he was on police business. 

After we past Russian customs, we had to go through Estonian customs, which took ANOTHER 40 minutes. The good bit is that they come to you, so you don’t have to get out of the train or move your luggage. You just sit there and do whatever you are doing and they ask for your passport and stare at you suspiciously. 

The hallway to your train car

I bought a 2nd class ticket, which is one step above 3rd class and one behind 1st (obviously). In my cabin, there is the potential for four people to be here: 2 on the bottom (I bought a bottom ticket) and 2 in the bunks above. Luckily for me I was alone in my car, so I was able to nap above and spread out how I wished. Not sure how this would have been sharing with 3 other people, but kind of glad I didn’t have to find out.

They provide pillows, blankets, slippers, toothbrush, and wash cloth. There is a restroom at the end of the corridor, along with a microwave and tea cups for coffee/tea if you wish. I just wanted to sleep; honestly, I was really tired and felt like I was getting a cold. 

Okay, so fast forward, I landed in Tallinn, got an Uber, and made it to my hotel/apartment!

It’s a really cute space. I didn’t go through an Airbnb because I really didn’t want to deal with tracking the owner down and getting keys, etc. This place kind of works like Airbnb in the sense that this is an apartment more than a hotel, but there are hotel amenities (housekeeping, 24-hour front desk, etc). 

The view from my window is pretty awesome:

Where my hotel is located is 5 minutes from Old Town. I didn’t realize this, but Tallinn is where Skype was founded. There are many startups and other cultural ventures that originated here, so it is a pretty well-connected city. That, coupled with the architecture and well preserved churches and historical landmarks, Tallinn is like...movie perfect. 

Case in point:

Fall is a really pretty time in Tallinn, with the leaves changing and a light mist hanging over the city. If you are looking to have a relaxing, no stress vacation, come here. Everyone speaks English, and the food and culture are really healthy. Healthy in the sense that they value quality products here; they pride themselves on selling items created in Estonia. 

After wandering around yesterday, I made reservations at a VEGAN RESTAURANT! They have vegan restaurants here!

This was a “seafood” sampler: Seaweed hummus, seaweed salad, dulse, spiraled cucumbers, and “lox” carrots. Yes, surprisingly those carrots tasted like smoked salmon...the only difference was the texture. Smoked salmon has a creamer texture. But it was still yummy!

Then I had some yellow curry:

Overall, the food was delicious and I was so happy to get something that was completely vegan. 

I will say that, at this point, my body is starting to rebel a little bit. It’s not happy with the 10-mile a day traversing the city travel, cross-country transportation, and questionable foreign food. And lack of sleep. I woke up today feeling the effects, and tried to talk myself out of it. 

I heard about this pancake place called Absolut that has really cheap but tasty food. Even though I was feeling a little sick, I dragged myself out and decided to try it.

Guys. I will never eat another pancake again. Story time.

I’m not sure if my dad remembers, but there was this one time years ago when we went to San Diego and I think we were going to the Renaissance festival. That morning, we went to some beach place for breakfast, and they had this like...”WE DARE YOU TO EAT ALL THESE PANCAKES” advertisement. Or maybe it was like “BIGGEST PANCAKE CHALLENGE”. Anyway, I told my dad I could eat all the pancakes and he was like...okay, but you have to eat it if you order it. And I ordered it and the pancake breakfast was like 3 pancakes each a foot in diameter and they were like...WHEAT or something really dense and drowning in syrup. And I didn’t want to show that I was weak so I just kept eating them until I felt like I was going to vomit. I ended up spending the whole day at the Renaissance festival feeling absolutely horrible. My brother was able to eat one of those huge roasted turkey legs and those used to be my favorite. I was so sad I couldn’t eat it. 

Sigh. I think I was always a mess.

Anyway, after that day, I really couldn’t look at breakfast the same again. Quite honestly, that experience probably contributes to why I hate eating in the morning. I just remember going a whole day feeling ill from one bad meal, and I rather avoid that.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I ordered these “pancakes”. They had all sorts of pancakes: savory and sweet. I thought a safe order was “apples and vanilla sauce” but didn’t expect what you see in that photo. The pancake was HUGE; stuffed full of warm apples and this cold vanilla sweet icing. I don’t know how people finish it. It was tasty, but definitely not vegan, and I managed halfway through before flashbacks happened to the last pancake fiasco and I just literally stopped eating and left. Oh, and that whole meal was about $6.00.

(I forgot to mention, but Estonia is on the euro. I HATE being on the euro. Basically, it’s an additional $.15 to one euro. I hate doing that math)

After that, I knew I needed to get some air and walk it off. I was still feeling kind of sick, but walking helped. I did some shopping and bought some local crafts. I then decided to just spend the day walking and exploring, and covered a good amount of land:

It says I did 7.9 km, but I did at least almost double that. I spent a lot of time exploring landmarks and areas by the water:

BTW, if you haven’t noticed, there is this weird clash of old ruins with graffiti with high rises. The old, the modern, and the bohemian.

For whatever reason, whenever I am gazing out to the water, I think about “Pirate Jenny” from The Threepenny Opera by Brecht. Specifically the Lotte Lenya version. I mean, I don’t really wish murdering a whole city first before jumping ship to my freedom, but we can all understand the sentiment of living as indentured servants to some THING. 

Um, anyway. Isn’t Tallinn quite a drastic change from Russia?

This is apparently the first Estonian submarine, made out of wood. Not sure how this worked, but innovation has to start somewhere.

I took a stroll through a park, and decided to visit a nearby mall. There was supposedly a thrift store somewhere in there, and thought it may be a good place to find more trinkets. 

Look how cute their shopping carts are! Everything is so clean and efficient here. 

There was a grocery store in this mall, and I bought some vitamin C, B-12, and B-6. I basically just took a bunch of vitamins and about 30-minutes later felt 100 times better. With the lack of control of my food intake, I was probably suffering from vitamin deficiency, which is why I felt bad. 

The other thing I noticed (I noticed it because I have to, and because I am a minority) is that the whole time I have been here I have only seen 2 black people and 1 Asian (both the black individuals and the Asian were with white people). That was it. Everyone is glaringly white here. In terms of finding any sort of ethnic restaurant or market, I found that none existed. I mean, I know there must be some because I saw that there were 3 Korean restaurants outside the city, but overall, within the city, there weren’t like any Ethiopian or Jamaican restaurants. There are a few Indian and PanAsian or EuroAsian or whatever the hell that is, but nothing like...authentic, from what I can tell. 

I’m really missing ethnic food. That’s the one thing I will say that I take for granted in America; America really is a melting pot. Obviously, not everywhere in America, but for the most part you can travel anywhere within the States and see various types of people from various cultures coming together. There are ethnic markets where you can source spices and ingredients and create dishes that remind you of home. I woke up today and really wanted some good kimchi, or a big bowl of bibimbap or a nice burrito from the burrito truck near my apartment with the fresh tomatillo salsa. It’s a bit...sterile here, which isn’t a bad thing at all, just seemingly predicable. 

Overall, this place is probably the closest to like...idealistic I have experienced from an objective standpoint. Good food, nice people, serene backdrop, creative, artistic, and safe. Great place to retire or take a sabbatical. 

But man. I never want to eat another freaking potato again. 

Tomorrow I have to check out of here at 11 AM and my boat leaves at 6PM for Stockholm. The hotel will let me store my luggage here while I wait for my ferry. So, I must sleep, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow!

[krissysbookshelf]

Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek Of: Who's That Girl by Blair Thornburgh!

  Nattie has always been that under-the-radar straight girl who hangs out in the cafeteria with her gay-straight alliance friends.

She's never been the girl that gets the guy, let alone the girl that gets a hit song named after her. But when last summer's crush, smoking-hot musician Sebastian Delacroix—who has recently hit the mainstream big-time—returns home to play a local show, that's just what she gets. He and his band have written a chart-topping single—"Natalie"—which instantly makes Nattie second guess everything she thought about their awkward non-kiss at that June pool party. With her once-normal life starting to resemble a gossip magazine, Nattie is determined to figure out if her brief moment with Sebastian was the stuff love songs are made of—or just a one-hit wonder.

LEARN MORE

  CHAPTER ONE

Everything weird started the day my dad brought home the yurt.

“Robert?”

Anne McCullough, alias Mom, was peering through the windows of our back door, cup of coffee in hand, and frowning. Robert Schwartz, alias Dad, had taken the station wagon somewhere early that morning and was now puttering around in the yard. But since puttering was one of those activities Dad did to relax, like separating the recycling or buying dress shoes on eBay, I wasn’t exactly concerned.

“Nattie?”

Natalie McCullough-Schwartz, alias Nattie, alias me, was sitting at the kitchen table, chomping through a noontime bowl of granola. It was Saturday, after all, so I was entitled to loaf around for a bit, reading and eating cereal to the soundtrack of the college radio station that my parents had playing 24-7.

“Whuh?” I responded without looking up from my phone, where I was completing my normal Saturday-morning Pixstagram catch-up session.

“Where did your dad go this morning?”

“I dunno.” I shrugged. “Groceries or something? I was asleep.”

My mom was still frowning. She had her grayish auburn hair piled up on top of her head in a knot, which could have been either an intentional artistic look or just the result of not having brushed her hair yet. I was sporting a similar style, but for the latter reason.

“Sam? Did you see my husband go anywhere?”

Huang Xueyang, alias Sam Huang, was sitting at the desk in the kitchen, eating breakfast and probably checking his email from his family in China, and shook his head. Perhaps to assuage parental guilt over their blatant negligence of every school-related activity from signing permission slips on time to “not forgetting the date of the parent potluck for the third year in a row,” the McCullough-Schwartzes had been first to volunteer when the Owen Wister Preparatory Academy needed host families for foreign exchange students. So, since the beginning of the last school year, Sam Huang had been part of the clan. It was like suddenly having a fifteen-year-old brother, which I liked because it meant I always had someone to split a microwave lasagna with, my mom liked because it meant we were putting the spare bedroom to good use, and my dad liked because Sam played classical guitar and was “the son I never had,” which made Sam and me feel kind of equally uncomfortable.

My mom looked out the door again.

“Robert?”

Even though it was October, we still had the screen door up, because procrastination is a McCullough-Schwartz family value. So my dad should have been able to hear her, but she wasn’t getting a response.

“Robert?”

There was a definite tone now. Sam poured another bowl of Cocoa Puffs. I scrolled down my phone. At the top of my feed was an artsy shot of the Donut, the front-lawn sculpture at Owen Wister Preparatory Academy that was actually called something like Concentricity of Knowledge, a photo that was intriguing because one, it was a Saturday, so no one was at school and two, it was posted by user sebdel, alias Sebastian Delacroix, who had left Wister forever when he graduated. Or so I had thought.

“I think he’s . . . Is he unloading something from the car? Sam? Nattie?”

Sam smiled but shook his head. I wasn’t going to move, but Mom clearly wanted someone involved and I, as her flesh and blood, was beholden to her will.

“Nattie. Come here.”

Reluctantly, I tore myself away from creeping on Sebastian Delacroix’s Pixstagram feed and stood up. She took a pull from her coffee and narrowed her eyes, pointing out into the backyard.

Dad was definitely out there, wearing his weekend polar fleece and covering his balding head with one of his grimy bandannas. Next to him, on top of the maple leaves that no one had raked yet, was a stack of various pieces of wood, a beat-up red toolbox, and what seemed to be a heap of fabric.

“Looks like it,” I said.

“I can’t believe this,” Mom said. “And neither of you knew anything?”

She cast a hard look back at the room, where Sam Huang was now kind of cowering.

“Sam,” Mom said slowly and a little too nicely, “you know you can tell us anything. I mean, tell me. Especially about my husband’s whereabouts.”

“I . . .” Sam Huang darted a glance at the door. “I wasn’t supposed to say.”

Mom was not having it. “Come on, Sam. Where did he go?”

Sam Huang fidgeted again. “He said he was going to pick up something for the lawn. And that it was a surprise.”

“Aha.” Triumphant, and indignant, Mom swung open the screen door and started off across the yard. I unrolled my sleeves and followed, because it was chilly and I was curious. The ground was cold and a little mushy under my bare feet, but not cold enough to make me go back for shoes.

“Robert? What’s going on here?”

Mom marched right up to the edge of the little clearing Dad had made with his supplies in the corner of the yard, and folded her arms. Around us, the air was thick with mystery, and also fog. I tried to put it together: we already had a toolshed, and both Sam and I were way too old for a swing set. I had begged for a trampoline for my last birthday, but Mom insisted they were death traps, and she was probably right, given the way Dad tended to construct things. The McCullough-Schwartz basement was a graveyard of splintered IKEA dressers and oblong birdhouses no self-respecting blue jay would nest in.

“Oh, there you are!” Dad said, as if he’d completely missed her entreaties from the kitchen. He straightened up and mopped his face with the bandanna. He was beaming. “Looking good, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

My dad’s grin faltered just slightly.

“The yurt. Of course.”

“Nattie?” Sam Huang appeared, holding my phone, which I’d left on the kitchen table. “You have a message.”

I took my phone and unlocked it to discover not one message, but three.

From: Tess Kozlowski

JAMBA ALERT

where are you

it’s important!!!

“What’s a Jamba alert?” asked Sam Huang. “Is it an emergency?”

I considered. Last May, Tess had found herself mysteriously subscribed to text alerts about smoothie deals from Jamba Juice, which we both thought was hilarious, and so, naturally, ever since then, we have referred to every text message, whether smoothie-related or not, as a Jamba alert. I knew our role as a host family was to be ambassadors for the American people, or something, but this was a weirdness that went beyond national cultural differences and into the weirdness of my particular group of friends.

“No.” I locked my phone again. Tess was my best friend and the person I trusted most in the world, but she was also the most liberal person I knew, both in her politics and her definition of important. So I knew whatever her deal was could wait until after the yurt. Whatever that was.

“The what?” Mom was saying.

“Yurt,” Dad repeated, like this was a word people used every day. “The traditional dwelling of the nomadic peoples of the steppes of Central Asia. It’s a sanctuary.”

“Robert,” Mom said slowly. “We don’t dwell in the steppes of Central Asia. We dwell in the suburbs of eastern Pennsylvania.”

“Right, but that’s just the beauty of it. It’s like an escape, for the family, right here in our backyard.” Noticing me, he wiggled his eyebrows. “Whaddya think, Nattie Gann?”

Natty Gann was the name of a plucky Depression-era orphan from a 1980s Disney movie that no one except my dad seemed to remember. It was also his favorite, dadliest nickname for me.

“I thought you said you were going to build a hot tub one day,” I said.

Actually, the putative yurt was taking over the exact space where I’d envisioned having our spa. I’d always wanted to have a cool place to put my friends—Tess, Tall Zach, and Zach the Anarchist, alias the Acronymphomaniacs, which we called ourselves not because of any actual nymphomania, but because we were fond of abbreviations and also belonged to a club with an uncommonly unwieldy acronym. It had just sort of stuck.

“He said he’d think about it,” Mom corrected.

Bzz. Bzz.

I thumbed my phone unlocked again.

From: Tess Kozlowski

nattieeeeee come hang out

“A yurt,” Dad said soberly, “is much better than a hot tub.”

This I took issue with. Because while I knew that, as a teenager teetering on the verge of adulthood and also the college process, I should have capital-G goals like “achieving purposefully,” “actionizing change,” and “not failing the math portion of the SATs,” my number one actual goal in life was just not to be weird. A hot tub was different, sure, but in a cool way. (Well, literally in a hot way, but the point stands.) A yurt, though, would just be a monument to strangeness and eccentricity—and for what? I couldn’t put it on a college application unless maybe I was applying to something like architectural school. And even then they’d probably flunk me for being too weird.

“Now, just a second, Robert,” Mom said. “We haven’t even discussed this.”

“Right, I know. But I was browsing the online yesterday night, and someone in the city was getting rid of this yurt kit for practically nothing because he had nowhere to put it, but I had to act fast or else he was just going to donate it to charity. I picked it up this morning.”

Dad looked proud, but Mom looked positively pained.

“What on earth are we going to do with a yurt?” she asked.

“What on earth would a charity do with a yurt?” I asked.

It took Dad a minute to come up with an answer. “Hang out,” he said. “Do some art projects. Or just get some nice peace and quiet, you know? The guy told me the yurt is intentionally built with a low ceiling and door, so you can’t get in without humbling yourself—”

“It’s built that way to keep the heat in,” I pointed out, vaguely recalling a social studies class.

Dad wasn’t listening. “We’ll get some cushions out here, a couple of candles, maybe a cast-iron stove to burn up some logs. . . .” He got a dreamy look in his eyes.

Mom looked like she’d rather burn the raw yurt materials than any logs. Even though she is, professionally, a creative person, Mom is not a big fan of Dad’s weekend projects. Maybe it’s because she gets to build frames for beautiful paintings all day and he’s cooped up in an office doing whatever it is executive directors of nonprofit voting-rights advocacy groups do all day, or maybe it’s because he’s left one half-dug koi pond too many in our front yard, but either way, the McCullough-Schwartzes do not have a good track record with home improvements.

“You can’t just start building a yurt in our backyard, Robert,” Mom said. “It looks . . . ugly.”

“Well, sure, it looks ugly now,” Dad said. “But soon it’ll be a circular canvas tent!”

This did not placate Mom. “What will the neighbors think?”

“It’s not for the neighbors,” Dad said. “It’s for us. Look, Sam Huang loves it.”

Sam Huang did not look like he wanted to get involved in an altercation between his host parents. I briefly wondered what would happen to him if they got divorced. Or to me, for that matter.

“We need to have a place to relax,” Dad said. “It’ll be good for us.”

Mom pursed her lips. “Does the place to relax have to be so . . . visible?”

In my pocket, my phone buzzed for the billionth time.

From: Tess Kozlowski

NATTIE JAMBA ALERT GET HERE OR ELSE WE

WILL ALL BE VERY SAD

:’( :’( :’(

I decided it was probably time to indulge Tess. And also get dressed, because it was twelve fifteen and I should probably do something more with my day than Pixstagram stalking. I was curious about the outcome of the whole yurt-stravaganza, but knowing my parents, the odds of a swift resolution were about as good as me applying to architectural school.

“I’m . . . gonna go see Tess,” I said, and backed away slowly.

“Great,” Mom said, in a tone of voice that was anything but great.

“Have fun!” Dad said brightly.

“Bye, Nattie,” said Sam Huang.

The screen door slapped behind me as I crossed the threshold back to the warmth of the kitchen and the bowl of mush that had once been my breakfast. When I stomped down the back stairs ten minutes later, Mom and Dad were at the counter, Dad gesticulating wildly and Mom laughing over a fresh cup of coffee, Sam Huang was set up at his computer watching guitar videos on YouTube, and beneath everything else, as always, the radio was softly playing an unfamiliar song.

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