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physicalturian · 4 years ago

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[18+] Undisclosed Desires - Miya Atsumu x Fem!Reader

[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 9480

Archive of our own

Tags : Frennemies to lovers / Cunnilungus / Drinking / Partying / Fluff / Wholesome / Hickies/ Oral sex / Vaginal sex / Blow jobs

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Summary : Pulling an all-nighter with Atsumu leads to both of you realising you've been wanting one another for far too long or...

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A date night? Was this a date night? No, that would be weird. Just… two newly-friends, hanging out together because their drunk, chaotic, friends were out and about without giving any news. Nothing more, because Miya Atsumu being handsome shouldn’t make a difference to the type of hanging out that was happening, right? Yes. I’m right. Hope he doesn’t think it’s a date. It’d be flattering though…

Throwing him a glance, I watched carefully as he grabbed the order from the person at the drive-through, thanking them. I don’t know why he had removed his jacket the moment he got in the car, but right now he was just flexing his muscles and I couldn’t care less. No matter how good it looked. I didn’t care.

“What, do you need something else?” He asked, catching me off guard.

Catching myself, I quirked a brow, knowing he was talking about my insistent look, but I played it off “Are you sure there’s everything?” I asked, nodding at the order bag in his hands. His reply was to drop the burning paper bag on my lap, grinning, then saying “Check if you’re so worried, but have a little faith in the people,” “Faith has nothing to do with this, it's late and I’d understand if they forgot something that’s all.” I shrugged, checking that everything was in there.

“Right, right, what’s the report chief?” He did ask, but before I could reply he had started driving off. I rolled my eyes and closed the bag, “All good, Atsumu. Let’s go back to your place so we can eat that,“ He nodded but I continued, smirking mischievously. “Actually… I could start eating now, I’m not the one driving,” I purposely made more noise when I opened the bag, earning a complaint from the player as he slapped my hand off the package. “No! Not in my car! That- that is not fair! You don’t get to torture me with the smell when I’m driving, come on,”

Chuckling, I pushed his hand away. He was gripping the bag closed and did not seem willing to let go. “I promise I’m not going to eat in your car, you can let go,” I said, trying to pry his hand open, but he was not budging. “Right, I’d let go but it’s kind of cute seeing you struggling, so I don’t know,” He trailed off, this time he was the one in the mischievous mood as he threw me a side glance. I felt my cheeks getting slightly warmer but ignored it. “So that’s what it’s all about, ah well. Hold the bag then, it saves me from doing it.” I shrugged, stopping everything and looking out the window.

“That’s not fun!! You’re not fun, you should try harder, make this-“ “I’m sorry, was I supposed to entertain you?” He let go with a long sigh, focusing back on the road. Both his hands on the steering wheel, a pout adorning his features. I was never going to admit that he was kind of cute like that, and if he asked anything with that face, I might just let him do anything. What? No, the man is just handsome. That’s it, good for him.

“I’ll find something that ticks you off, one day.” I heard him say. It earned him a very confused look from me as I faced him fully, now. He didn’t add to that until he was finally parked in front of a building and the car was off. “I mean, you’re always composed and all, like Omi-Omi actually! His thing is like, germs, and well… Me, but in a good way, you know? But you…” He squinted his eyes, pursing his lips as he made a thinking face. “I’ll find out soon enough,”

Grabbing the bag, I unbuckled the seatbelt and opened the door, “Yeah… Sure, have fun? I hope you’ll be successful in your-“ I waved vaguely at him, “Whatever this is,”

Laughing loudly, he got out of the car too, the jingle of his keys stopping suddenly when he dropped them on the ground after having swung them around his finger. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed them from the ground, then lead us inside, to his place.

We had to climb a flew flights of stairs, and when we arrived, he ushered me inside. “Go, go, the table’s right there, we’re eating this while it’s warm,” He said quickly as he locked the door behind us. He slipped off his shoes easily, so I handed him the bag before struggling a bit more with mine as I tried to stay balanced. Once I had slipped them off, I let out a sigh of relief when I finally freed. I always loved walking around in socks, I loved the muffled sound it made on the ground.

Looking back up, I took a bit of time looking around and taking in the display of the room. It wasn’t as small as I thought it’d be, but it was clearly a one-person apartment. Surprisingly, he hadn’t lied when he said the place was clean, the worse I could find was an empty bowl and a mug on the counter. Probably from this morning.

“It’s a nice place-“ “I actually cleaned it in case I brought someone back from the party, you know…” to fuck, was the underlying statement. I hated the way my stomach churned when he said, it was stupid. Instead, I laughed. “Did I perhaps ruin some plan of yours?”

“I mean, I brought you home, did I not?” I was confused upon seeing his expression. It seemed serious, darker… Less cute, sultrier. But it quickly dissipated at my lack of answer, or perhaps my face did all the talking. He suddenly laughed as he handed me my food and placed his in front of him, the drinks too. “I’m kidding! I mean, I did bring you home, but we’re going to pull an all-nighter and have fun, right?”

“Sure, if you think you call that fun to be worried about that idiot Bokuto- who even forgets their phone? I just-“ I threw my hands in the air, sighing. “A moron,”

“You really are worried, but he’ll be fine!” Atsumu took a large bite of his burger, but that didn’t stop him from talking, mouth full. “If we don’t get a call from Shoyo or Kuroo, then it’ll be the police because they arrested him, but they’re not gonna die or anything.” I think he understood how it did not help at all by the way I paused mid-way bringing the food to my mouth.

He slammed his hand on the table, hurriedly justifying, “I’m saying that because it happened once, but they’ll be fine! Trust me, if anything they might just be passed out on a parking lot- like, at worse.” “I think I don’t really feel reassured, and I’ll just bear through my worry. Nice try though, Miya, thanks for the food,” I nodded before starting eating.

The blond seemed dejected from failing in cheering me up, and for some reason I couldn’t bear seeing that silly face of him without a smile. Every time I’d seen him, he was grinning widely at whatever his teammates were telling him, now it felt uncanny to see him sad.

So, I bumped my foot against his, I had nothing to say that’d make him smile, so I changed topic, “Do you like the food?” This was bad. And if I knew that, he did too. A small smile drew itself on his lips, it slowly but surely grew, no answer from the man just yet. When he did, he threw his head back, “That’s your way of cheering me up? You’re bad at this!” He laughed.

Feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment, I rolled my eyes and focused on my own food. “I wasn’t trying to cheer you up, I was simply asking a question,” I quickly looked up at the blond when he hooked his foot with mine, under the table, “Come on, I’m kidding-“ “Stop that, oh god it’s gross-“ I interrupted him when he tried to tickle my foot with his, our socks rubbing against one another in a way I did not like one bit.

“Does that mean you’re ticklish?!” He quickly looked under the table, trying to grab my foot but I stood up faster than he reached for it. Food in hand, I stood behind my chair with a deadpanned expression, “You’re a man child, I don’t have enough words to express how exhausting you’re going to be,” I scoffed as I continued eating, earning a frown from Atsumu. He shoved the rest of his burger in his mouth, without saying much. In awe, I gauged the speed at which he chewed that shit and swallowed it. For a second, I’d even say he gobbled it down instead of eating it.

“You’re not fun,” He huffed, opening another box. “Once again, I had no plan of entertaining you for the evening, Atsumu,” His answer was to throw a chicken nugget my way, it hit the table with a terrifying silence when I looked up at him with as much disdain possible. “Tell me you didn’t just throw me a chicken nugget,” I trailed off, sauntering closer to the table, grabbing the nugget with tip of fingers I was going to put it back in the box when Atsumu opened his mouth wide.

Pointing at his mouth, he tilted his head backwards, “Here,” was what he said, although it sounded unarticulated with his mouth open like that. I had to do a double take at the man’s request, “Why did you even think I’d consider that, after you launched that shit at me? Feed yourself on your own,” While I did try to keep the contempt on my face, I quickly turned around when I let a short smile slip when he took it from my hand and ate it quickly.

A fucking dog, that’s what he was. “So that means, if I hadn’t thrown it at you… You’d have considered it!!” Sitting back down, I put my hand in front of me to stop him, “That’s definitely not what I said,” although it was right. “Oh you said it, you did!”

Sighing, I finished my food without answering him. When I leaned over the table to take the empty bag next to Atsumu, I saw him handing me a chicken nugget, “An offering for forgiveness,” He said. “No thank you-“ “Come on, I’m full, if you don’t take it, it’ll go to the trash, come on,” He dragged his words in a pleading manner. It’s with a roll of eyes that I was about to take it from his hand, breathing out a “Sure,” but he shoved it in my mouth before I could take it, a manic grin on his face.

Through gritted teeth, I said, “I’ll bite your fingers off,” he quickly let go, his eyes never leaving me as I ate it, nonetheless, throwing him a side glance. Without losing more time, I grabbed the trash from the table. I was left standing in the middle of the kitchen when I turned around and looked at Atsumu a bit lost. He was leaning on the back of the chair, his elbow supporting his head as he looked at me with a smirk.

“Yes?” He inquired in a sing-song voice, knowing full well what I needed. I ignored his attitude and nodded at him, “Where’s the trash?” I know I could have the opportunity to make a joke about him, being the trash, but we were not on fighting terms anymore. And he was not a trashy man… Yet.

Pointing at me with his hand extended in front of him, palm up, he said, “In your hand-“ “-can, the trash can, the bin, the little box for the trash, I knew you’d be a little shit even with the simplest thing,” I rolled my eyes before turning around and putting everything on the counter. When I looked back, Atsumu was right behind me. Startled, I snuck under his arm and moved away from him, frowning. “What’re you doing Miya?”

“Chill, relax, I was going to throw everything away,” He opened the cabinet closer to the ground and pointed at the trash, “There,” then did as he said he would. For a moment I felt bad at my sudden reaction, but I also was aware that the man could come up behind and surprise me. May it be by tickling, as he tried earlier, or maybe poking my side. And I was not in the mood for either of those.

Humming, I kept an eye on him. Not only because I didn’t know what to do now that we had eaten, but also because part of me enjoyed the view of him as he reached for a glass in the pantry. His black shirt lifting ever so lightly, the side of his hip peeking from under the fabric. The tightness of the sleeves around his biceps, I never realized how defined his muscles were. Then again, it came with being a pro volleyball player, and it wasn’t uncommon. He wasn’t special, just annoying. “Ground control to major killjoy,”

Blinking out of my daydream, I met his eyes and noticed he was handing me a beer. I took it without much thinking, but didn’t move, “You good? Do you need me to open it or something?” He asked as he brought the glass bottle to his mouth, ready to uncap it with his teeth. I quickly took his from his hand and went on a scavenging hunt to find a bottle-opener. “You send goosebumps down my spine with that stupidity, do you often uncap bottles with your teeth?- No, actually, I don’t want to know,” Opening them, I handed him his with a sigh.

“Come on, it’s a cool party trick! I can also do that thing where-“ He pulled the side of his mouth in a wide smile and stuck his tongue out, making it look a lot longer than it was. For some reason, part of me found it kind of lewd, the way he moved his tongue up and down, his back teeth showing. A party trick wouldn’t be what I’d call it, he looked like an idiot doing it, but a pretty one. “Right, a party trick. It makes one wonder if there is one thing that mouth can’t do, right?” I quickly regretted it when he stopped his silly display and looked at me with raised brows and a huge smile.

“Oh, it can do a lot more, are you curious?” He brought the bottle to his mouth and twirled his tongue around the tip, his eyes never leaving mine. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to look away, hating the way he was getting to me. Only hours ago, he was hating me, and right now the animosity was completely gone, and the man was feeling a lot more confident being flirtatious than spurring complete bullshit about me. “You don’t know how strongly I wish to shove that bottle in your mouth,” I rolled my eyes, turning away from him and walking to the living-room.

I heard the muffled sound of his footsteps on the parquet as he hurried behind me, “You’d be surprised by what’d happen, for your info I don’t have a gag reflex,”

Turning around, I quirked a brow, “Ok? Good for you!” He pouted as I continued, “That doesn’t mean I want to watch you slut yourself out in front of me though,” For some reason it made him laugh. Walking in front of me, he disappeared in a room and returned with his laptop in hand. “Deep down I know you want me,” A huff escaped my lips with how convinced he was and how much energy he still had this late.

“If it keeps you going, sure!” That kind of banter was interesting, but I was curious of how far he would go with his words. Joining him in the living room, I sat down on the couch and watched him as he installed the computer on the low table. He had gotten changed and was now wearing shorts instead of the cargo pants he had at the party. Probably for comfort, although it did make his ass look good like that. I quickly shook the thought away when Atsumu dropped two blankets on the couch along some pillows, purposely throwing the pillows at my face.

I took a deep breath and threw him a serious glare. “Do you ever, not? Or are you constantly trying to start shit?” His reply was a huge grin at first. He wasn’t fully facing me, and even crouched in front of the table as he unlocked his laptop and started looking for the movie. While I did roll my eyes at his reaction, I did not mind much. It felt like the man needed a lot of attention and was not satisfied with my little to no reaction to every shit he had done.

“I don’t know, it’s fun. ‘Should have thrown it back at me,” He shrugged while settling down on the couch. He set his feet on the table, then threw the blanket on his legs. I had thrown mine over my shoulders and was sitting tailor-styled on the couch, cocooned. “Right, and with your great reflexes you’d have caught it and definitely not spilled the beer, right?”

“I play volleyball, of course I’d have caught it! Did you forget or something?” His eyes were wide open in confusion, he looked at me a bit longer while I felt like an idiot for forgetting in those few seconds. I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling my face heat up, “Just start the movie already,” I huffed, checking my phone to see if I had received any text or call from Kuroo or Bokuto. But there were none.

An annoyed sound escaped my throat when Atsumu pried my phone away from my hand and kept it away from me. I tried to get it from his hand, but he placed a hand on my stomach to keep me from leaning further in. After less than a minute I grunted, “You’re a child, give it back to me when you’re done checking if I have fun games for you to play with,” I winced at my own words, sensing I was more annoyed than I actually thought I was. Before he could reply, I played the movie and crossed my arms over my chest, focusing on the screen.

“Come on, I’m playing with ya,” He nudged my elbow, I looked at him from the corner of my eye but did not say anything.

“You named me by my full name in your contact list? That sucks, I’ll change it to something cooler-“ Before he could do anything, I snatched my phone out of his hand and locked it. I didn’t even look at his face when I dropped it back on my lap, but I could guess he was surprised and, or, frustrated. Knowing this, I felt like gloating but as much as I tried to hold back my proud smile, I felt the rictus on the corner of my lips.

I was glad to not hear anything from him, it meant I could enjoy the movie while he was pouting in his corner. The quiet was welcomed. Leaning forward to grab my beer from the table, I put my hand on my lap to hold my phone from falling down but didn’t feel it there. Looking down at my lap, it wasn’t there, nor on my sides, I started patting the couch and everywhere around me then I felt Atsumu grab my hand and put it on my phone that was now in his hand. “Looking for this?” He asked, a smug smile on his lips.

“You can’t do shit if it’s locked, so, hand it over,” I wrapped my fingers around my phone, and his fingers in the process. When I tried to grab it out of his grasp, Atsumu moved my hand and managed to get the camera opened. “Look at us, being friendly and stuff,” He pulled the phone up to take a selfie of both of us, wrapping his free hand around mine to stop me from going for my phone. Putting our clasped hands in front of him, he made sure we could see it on the screen and took a few photos.

When he was done, I pried his hand away from mine, “Are you done? The moment I’m alone, I am going to-“ “you’re going to put them as the background for your phone, or just really stare at it ‘cause you love me that much, I understand.”

“I’m going to delete them, more than anything,” I said with a smirk, loving the puppy look in his eyes when I said so. It did not last long, only seconds after he handed me my phone back and said, “You wouldn’t dare, we look too good for those to go to the trash,” He made sure to show them to me, but I only chuckled.

“I always look good, no need to show me,” I waved him off, focusing once more on the movie. What caught me off guard was the blonde’s reply, which was said in an almost genuine tone, “Yeah, you’re right, you’re always hot,” He did not add anything else. I would have expected a joke following it, or an addition saying that he was also hot, but nothing. Instead, he looked at the screen without a word. Seeing how relaxed he was, I probably got too much in my head when feeling like there was some tension between us. So, I took a few deep breaths and calmed my flushing cheeks.

Nothing much was said, so I made sure to comment here and there. Part of me felt like I couldn’t stay silent the entire time, knowing Atsumu like the movie. Or so I thought.

“Wait you’re telling me his name is Wall-E is an acronym for like, little trash worker? For real?” I said, confused. Then quickly added, “Here, if he’s collecting those trinkets that means it has sentimental value, right? That doesn’t make sense, he’s a robot, is he like sentient or something?” The moment I finished talking, Atsumu paused the movie and looked at me with a frown.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to watch kid’s movie, it’s for kids! There is nothing like, sentient or something, it’s just, a little robot trying his best, okay?”

“But it’s stupid, I mean sure it’s been programmed for that, but there isn’t anyone else on the planet, so he shouldn’t keep doing that shit, right?” I inquired, earning a loud sigh from the player who seemed more than exhausted by that question.

Putting both his hands in front of him, he started gesturing, “Hope’s what keeps him going right now, alright?” he un-paused the movie, and only seconds after, a little white robot appeared on screen, “And love! Look, he saw her, and he likes her, so he was right to be hopeful all that time,” I rolled my eyes and slumped deeper in the couch, my arms crossed as I mumbled, “It doesn’t make sense to make robots fall in love though,”

Atsumu made sure to sigh louder, more dramatically as we both turned silent once more. As the movie continued, he was the first one to speak again, “Tag yourself, you’re the violent rampaging robot and I’m just a little fella,”

“I’m not violent, you’re the one who punched a dude Atsumu, not me. You should remember that,” I told him, earning an ungraceful huff as he tried to find the proper words to express himself. I faced him with raised brows, waiting, then something hit me. I grabbed his right hand to take a look at this fist but let go the moment I held it, feeling like I shouldn’t be this familiar with him. He looked at me confused, I was fast to say, “I just realized we never checked your fist, and since the dude seemed to-“

I paused, feeling the intensity of Atsumu’s gaze on mine. For some reason, it wasn’t as light-hearted as seconds ago, which led me to believe I had done something I shouldn’t have. “But you’re a tough guy, and an adult, so you can take care of that yourself, right-“ I cleared my throat and continued watching the movie.

This time I was sure there was some tension between us. If I were to leave right now it would look weird, and I was the one who had made it all strange, which left me with the only option left: staying in an awkward silence, my heart beating faster in embarrassment. If it had been Bokuto, I would have led that idiot to the kitchen and took care of his bruising knuckles then got it over with; But here, I wasn’t nearly as friendly with Atsumu as I was with Bokuto, and yet it felt sort of comforting to be around him.

Perhaps because I knew he had proven himself to be reliable when I felt bad, or maybe I thought: he’s already seen me cry my eyes out, what’s left to see? Whichever it was, now it wasn’t as comfortable as before, my hands felt hot and cold at the same time. I brought the blanket closer around my form and paid attention to the story but was still tempted to look at the man on my right. Was he mad that I had stepped over his boundaries? Or annoyed to have invited me at his place out of pity, or perhaps even-

My train of thought was interrupted when I saw a hand enter my field of vision. I leaned back a bit to get away from it, then heard Atsumu say, “It’s gonna bruise, but it ain’t bleeding or anything,”

I hummed, reassured, breathing a weak “Ok, good,”

“I think it’ll heal faster if you kissed it better, though,” He said playfully. A relieved laugh escaped my mouth as I faced the man, there was a mischievous smile adorning his features. My eyes never left his. His left mine a few times to glance down and look around nervously. “I’m not doing that, it’s not going to change shit about the bruises,” Placing my hand on his extended one, I pushed it down and out of my sight. “Alright, then I’ll just,” He took the opportunity to thread his fingers with mine like before then proceeded to shut his mouth and look straight ahead.

I wanted to make a joke, telling him that Wall-E was not a horror movie and that if he felt the need to hold hands maybe he should watch a kid show. But I was too thrown off to do anything. I did not move, but after a few minutes, I felt like I had to speak. I wanted to ask him what he was doing… But deep down I craved the slightest touch and wanted to keep this going as long as he’ll allow it.

I squeezed his hand a moment, then put my elbow on the armrest and rested my head against my fist. We stayed like this, in silence, only chuckling here and there at what was happening on the screen, our hands still clasped on one another.

Around the end of the movie, I realized Atsumu’s grip wasn’t as tight as before, and he was reacting a lot less. Lazily turning my head to take a look at the blonde, I held back a laugh when I saw his head was resting on the back of the couch and his mouth was slightly open, the slightest snore escaping his mouth as he breathed in and out. “Of course, you’d fall asleep,” I whispered, letting go of his hand and grabbing a pillow that had fallen on the ground at some point to put it behind his head.

Nudging his shoulder, I tried to wake him up, but he only closed his mouth and made a throaty sound as he moved to get in a better position. His head started falling towards the side opposite of mine, I had to quickly grab his shoulders so that he wouldn’t fall entirely. I forced myself to focus and not enjoy the feeling of his muscles under my fingers as I pulled him towards my side more. The resistance of his weight soon changed when he simply laid down on the couch, I had to put the pillow rapidly on my lap and let out a ‘oof’ when his full weight was on my legs.

“I’ll throw you off the couch if you don’t wake up,” I whispered to the sleeping man on my thighs. Of course, I did not receive any answer, he was passed out after a whole day of practice and a party he probably did not feel like going to. I mean… even tired he is kind of cute… I thought, taking a good look at his features. I never took the time to observe the man, but he was the perfect definition. If not for the fit body, even if his hair was dyed it looked good, and while I’d never admit it out loud, his smile almost made me want to kiss him.

What?

I rapidly looked away from his sleeping form and pulled out my phone, focusing on something other than the pretty boy on my lap. Seeing as he clearly did not respect my personal space, I was not about to respect his. I rested my hands on his chest as I started scrolling on my phone, waiting for time to go by. I did not want to fall asleep and miss Bokuto’s call, even if I was slowly falling asleep with the warmth Atsumu brought, I had to stay up.

The movie had ended a good while back and started playing something I wasn’t paying attention to. The sound was so loud I was surprised it didn’t wake up the sleeping idiot, “You could get robbed you wouldn’t even wake up,” I remarked out loud, not expecting an answer but making myself chuckle, “Actually I could rob you and leave, but your stupid ass is too heavy for me to move,” I mumbled, sliding my hands under his back to try to lift him but quickly gave up.

“You’re lucky I don’t hate you or I’d be trying to wake your sorry ass, although it’s still very tempting right now,” I muttered the last part, glancing at how much space he was taking. My attention was brought to the man once again when I heard something coming from him, but he seemed fast asleep. Shaking my head, I returned to my phone, but stopped once again when I heard him mumble in his sleep. “You’re telling me even sleep doesn’t make you shut up? How am I even supposed to-“ I cut myself off when he mumbled something again, I brought my ear closer to his mouth, trying to decipher what he was saying.

My eyes widened when I heard what he said, “All bark, no bite” Before I had time to react, his hands were on my cheeks as he pulled my face closer to his, pressing his lips against mine. The angle didn’t make it comfortable, but I felt my heart speed up and my cheeks flare at the suddenness of his actions. I dropped my phone and was gripping his shirt with little force, more in the hopes to calm my surprise than to hold him down.

I found myself returning his kiss after a short delay of shock, the beer taste was strong, but I couldn’t care less. His kiss was sleepy and lazy, different than my clumsy one, and yet I was enjoying a lot more than I was willing to admit. Slowly coming to my sense, I pulled away when he tried to deepen the kiss. My lips were still hovering over his, but I didn’t look at him. “What was that for?” I breathed against his lips, wanting an explanation.

“You use a lot of words to say you don’t want me, but you haven’t kicked me off you yet,” He grinned proudly, a hand tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I gripped it tight to stop him, but did not pull back yet, “You said you didn’t hate me, or you’d have pushed me off this couch, but I’m still here, a lot of words for nothing,” He trailed off, grazing his lips against mine, “All bark,” his teeth were now tugging at my bottom lip, “No bite,” He murmured before letting go and pecking my lips once more.

I pulled away with a huff, opening my mouth and closing it a few times, trying to find the words. All the words that came in my head were: little shit, sly bastard and arrogant prick, none of which were enough of a comeback to be said out loud. I looked off to the side, not saying anything yet, feeling the weight of his body leaving my lap as he sat up. My eyes followed each of his movement as he stretched, moaning how good it feels to take a short nap. “You didn’t sleep, how good of a nap can it be?” I asked rhetorically, aiming to avoid the topic of what had just happened.

After saying so, I tried to think of all that I had said when I thought he was asleep. From what I could remember, nothing incriminating had been said, it was a relief.

“I got to have my head on a pretty girl’s lap, I’d call this a win-“ “If you don’t go back to sleep, I’ll put you to sleep myself,” I spat, crossing my arms over my chest, not trusting myself to look at him just yet. The embarrassment from moments ago was still very present, even though Atsumu was completely unaware of it. “I thought we’d both agreed that you wouldn’t do that, that you were all talk,” He grinned then proceeded to uncross my arms and pull me towards him, I pulled back but faced him with raised brows, wordlessly asking him what he was doing. “Don’t know, waiting for you to do something about it,” He shrugged.

Sighing, I placed both of my hands on the couch to balance myself as I stood up, “There is nothing to do about anything, I’m going to wait in the kitchen,” I scoffed.

The twin laughed as he pulled me back to the couch, this time closer to him. I held his wrist tight to keep myself balanced and glared at him. “We just kissed, you can’t just leave, come on,” He tugged me closer, I had to hold onto his knees as I was now kneeling between his legs while he was stretching his legs on the couch. “Actually, I can. And I was about to do so,” I gave him a curt nod, trying to hide my blushing cheeks.

He did not take no for an answer and poked my side to get my attention, “I’ll let ya go if you answer two of my questions, alright?” He asked excitedly, his hands resting on my waist. It took all my will not to look down at his big hands on my body and push them anywhere but at this very spot.

Clearing my throat, I told him to go off. “Tell me you don’t find me attractive,” He said in all seriousness. Taken aback, I faced him quickly, “I’m sorry?” was what I asked.

“You heard me, tell me you don’t find me attractive,” He reiterated.

“That’s stupid, I literally told you earlier that you were cute, what’s your angle here?” The man seemed to be thinking, then made a sound at the realization that I had indeed said so earlier. He chuckled, his cheeks turning slightly redder than usual. “Right, I forgot that. I also find you cute,” “I didn’t ask, nor do I care,” I shrugged.

“Yeah? Then why are you all flustered and stuff? No, you know what? This is a lot funnier than making you angry! This is fun-“ “Just ask your second question so that I can go,” I cut him off, I felt my heart beat faster at his admittance but played it off. I didn’t care, right?

“Tell me you don’t like me, and I’ll stop flirting,” He said. Without thinking, I snorted in surprise, “That’s not a question, maybe you should check the definition in the dictionary-“ Clearly he did not want to waste time with my avoidance and pressed, his hands bringing me closer to him. I whispered, “Careful,” but didn’t think he heard me. “Just say you don’t like me, so that we’re clear and I’ll stop, it’s simple, you like simple right?” He smirked; The smug attitude was back tenfold.

“Do you have memory losses or something? I don’t hate you, I thought we had made that clear since we started over-“ “I don’t have time for those games, so,” He trailed off, this time he put more force into it as he pull me onto his lap and let his hands travel to the back of my thighs. I hated the ease at which at let him do as he pleased already, I wanted to, but I also didn’t want to see the satisfaction on his face when I’d give in. Bringing my hands on his, I held them on the spot. I don’t know why I was doing it when I so desperately craved for them to slide under my shirt.

His eyes traveled from my face to my stomach, then to my hands, smiling playfully when he saw how tightly I was gripping his. “Where’s the fun if you keep them in place, let go of my hands,” He said in a breathy tone. If I wasn’t already sitting, my knees would have been weak. While I did let go, I rolled my eyes and placed both my hands on his stomach. “I don’t need to hold them down, you’re also all bark no bite- actually, the reason you’re in such a good shape is because you keep running your mouth like that, for nothing,” I taunted, earning a smile at the corner of his lips as his hands slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing my skin very slowly.

I gasped silently, not expecting him to do that. The roughness of his skin against mine reminded me for that mere moment, when I had forgotten, that he was a pro player, which came with great strength in his arms… And hands for his serves. I shook the thought away. “Yeah? If you don’t like it, tell me to stop, tell me you don’t like me,” He taunted back, his hands crawling higher and higher on my stomach, grazing my sides ever so delicately.

The smile on his lips. The attitude that dripped off his arrogant person, his tongue brushing on his lips, the heat of his body between my legs. His thighs against mine… All of this made me more and more frustrated, I didn’t want to talk anymore, I didn’t hate him, it was true. But did I want to tell him I wanted him? “You’re very silent,” He was trying to provoke me, but I didn’t trust myself to speak. My fists tightened on his shirt, making it rise up on his stomach. A glimpse of his skin was shown but if I let my eyes linger there more than necessary, I’d succumb.

With his carefree tone, he said, “I’ll take it off if that’s what you want. I mean, you did find me cute since the day we met, you’re probably curious of what-“ Maybe I was more frustrated than I thought I was. Hearing his cockiness made me snap. Leaning over, I shut him up by pressing my lips against his quickly, followed by, “You keep talking and talking, it turns me on-“ His eyes widened, I was confused for a second and quickly corrected myself, “Ticks me off, it ticks me off, you’re annoying-“ “So that’s what ticks you off? Heard ya loud and clear,” He said enthusiastically.

Before I could say anything, he had taken his shirt off and was about to help me take mine off before I stopped him and gave him a warning look. When he was about to ask what was wrong, I held the hem of my shirt and threw him a side glance, “I’ll do it myself, I don’t trust your skills at anything,” I scoffed, throwing my shirt on the back of the couch and unzipping my pants. I stopped dead in my tracks when Atsumu’s eyes widened and felt like digging a hole to never come out of.

Getting off of him, I rushed my words, “Fuck, I read into this- forget whatever happened these past, whatever how long we’ve been at it, let’s just-“ “Oh we’re doing this, I was going for a heavy make-out but you clearly have something great in mind,” He chuckled, standing to take his shorts off. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, even though he said it was great idea. I felt like an idiot, “Flustered is a great look on you, but I think you’d look hotter without those pants,” I heard him say, very close to me.

Looking up to meet his gaze, I couldn’t help the smile that accompanied my scoff, the softness was quickly replaced by more ‘flattering’ words, “I mean, it does make your ass look good, but…” His hands trailed down to my zipper, tentatively pulling my pants down to grab my ass and bring me closer. I said his name in a warning tone, not stopping him, but holding his forearm to slow his adventurous hands from going further. “If you really wanna cover your ass, use my hands is what I’m saying,”

I snorted and pushed him down on the couch, still chuckling, falling down with him as he did not let go of my ass once. “Fuck you, that’s the worst dirty talking I’ve ever heard,” I told him playfully, letting my hands rest on his stomach as I set myself on his thighs at first. Atsumu was quick to pull me closer, right onto his growing bulge, “I’d say fuck me like you hate me, but I’m too sensitive for that,” He whispered half-jokingly, “And we’ve agreed there was no hate, so…” He brought my lips into a kiss that I returned with as much enthusiasm, this time letting him deepen it until we had to pull away to breathe.

“Right now, I want to make you lose your composure as you moan my name desperately,” He did not stutter, he did not play it off as a joke, no. He was assured, determined, and did not waste time. After letting those words hit me like a brick, he started attacking my neck, hands threading through my hair and pulling me to the side to get a better access. I held onto his shoulders at first but decided to no let him get anything out of me just yet.

“I think I can do that first,” I breathed as I pushed his mouth away from my neck and graze mine against it, my hands sliding lower on his body.

With the same cockiness he adorned daily, he brought me into a quick kiss and said with too much confidence, “All bark, no bite, let me do what I do best and get you riled up, while you enjoy it,” I laughed at that and pushed his head back, my hand under his chin as I kissed him down from his chin to his throat, to his chest to finally stop at his happy trail where I looked up at him with a smirk. “Careful what you wish for, and I hope for your sake that I don’t bite,” I threatened as I pulled down his boxers and grabbed his cock, giving it a few strokes.

I was surprised by how good Atsumu sounded with his throat tight, holding back his moans from the sudden touches I was giving him. His mouth was open, but he wasn’t letting everything out just yet. “Damn, don’t shut the fuck up, you’re so sexy…” I said mockingly, making him cover his mouth as I took his cock in my mouth and started sucking him off. Each time my tongue would brush his sensitive tip, a higher moan would escape his lips. His back was arched as he tried to meet my mouth to go deeper, but I held him down, my nails digging in his hips.

“Just like that baby- fuck fuck fuck,” He whined, a higher pitch in his tone. His hand threaded in my hair once more, I felt him push my head more on his cock and didn’t like his rapid take of control, I pulled his hand off my head and grazed my teeth on his length as I slid his cock out of my mouth and stopped everything. Saliva was dripping down my mouth and onto his tip as I looked at his frustrated frown, “Why did you stop?”

Brushing my thumb lazily on the base of his cock, I smirked, “Mmh? I thought you’d like teasing? I’m guessing it’s a lot less fun when you’re on the receiving end, but I’m enjoying this a lot-“ “Oh, oh, that’s- you…” His look darkened as a toothy grin made its way on his lips. He sat up and pulled me over his hips once again, I instinctively started grinding against his dick to get some friction, holding back noises of pleasure from the little I could get from it.

Atsumu’s fingers trailed to my chin, his thumb brushing over my lips, “Open your mouth,” He breathed softly. It caught me off guard, the tenderness in his voice, I did as he asked with a bit of hesitancy. “Good girl,” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before shoving some fabric in my mouth, from the colour I guessed it was his shirt. When I tried to take it out to complain, he pushed me down, pinning my hands over my head, his hips straddling me, “If you can’t even put your mouth to good use, you lose the privilege of using it entirely, simple right?”

“It’s my turn then,” He smiled as he removed my remaining clothes and left me bare under his form. He started by playing with my nipples, his mouth on one, while his hand took care of the other. When I tried to push him away to take back the control, he placed both my hands on his back and said, “Since you bite like a bitch, use your claws like one too, don’t feel shy-“ I did exactly that, elating a deep groan from the man who smiled giddily at my action. I tried to match it with a smirk but couldn’t do much with the item of clothing in my mouth.

He started kissing down my chest, my stomach, to finally let his tongue trail down between my legs. Once he was there, he paused and licked my clit then blew on it, then did it again. Licking, blowing, making me feel the cold sensation and along too little friction. He would sometimes get me going longer by sucking it, elating deep groans from me, I could feel my body heat up more and more, getting higher and higher on the feeling of pleasure he gave me. He kept my legs spread, stopping me from closing them on his head, his nails digging inside my skin. I kicked my heel in his back, getting his attention. “What, you don’t like my teasing?” I shook my head. “That’s not what those moans are saying baby, I’ll keep it up some more-“

We were both startled when we heard Atsumu’s phone ring, he told me to stay there and picked up the phone. When he put it on speaker, I understood it was also my business. “Tsum-Tsum? Your place ‘t’s the number… sixteen right? I- the key it’s not working Tsum-Tsum, can you let me in…” My heart jumped in my chest when I heard it was Bokuto and he was alive and well, there seemed to be some groaning in the back. Kuroo then took the phone, “They’re this close to passing out, your place was the closest, so we walked- didn’t sober them much, just open the door Miya,” He explained. On the phone we heard some knocking but not on Atsumu’s door.

“It’s not number 16 though, it’s 36, it’s two floors up dude,” I was surprised by how composed he was on the phone when only seconds ago he had his face between my legs- Fuck, they shouldn’t see what was about to happen. “For fuck’s sake, you’re making me carry them two more floors? At least come and help out,” Kuroo said over the phone, Shoyou’s voice in the background was weaker than Bokuto’s but just as sluggish. “You put yourself in this situation, I’m being nice enough to let you stay at my place. So, take your time but I’m not coming to help,” Atsumu said before hanging up.

When I was sure he had hung up, I gathered all my clothes and rushed to put them on. “Don’t tell them anything, if they ask why-“ “I’ll simply skip over the part where we gave head to one another, don’t worry,” He finished my sentence. I paused in my dressing and threw him a glare, “Don’t say it so casually-“ when I was about to put on my shirt, it was damp under my fingers. Taking a good look, I noticed there was a spilled bottle of beer on the ground. “Shit, shit, why did you throw it there, I had put it on the couch!” I exclaimed.

“I considered using your shirt as a gag, be grateful I used mine, look,” He pointed at his shirt. There were darker spots on the black shirt, but he still wore it. “Then get changed, and give me a shirt too,” He quirked a brow as if something was missing from my request.

Rolling my eyes, I softened my tone, “Please,”

Standing up, he finally finished dressing up and asked me to clean the beer from the ground. I hurried to the kitchen to get everything and wiped the puddle just in time for Atsumu to get back in the living room and hand it to me. I put it on in a hurry, struggling to find the hole for my head only to have him help me off-handedly. “How about you calm down? They’re our friends, I don’t think they’d say anything. Weren’t they the one asking us to get along? I think we got along just fine,” He said smugly, his hand tugging at his shirt on my form.

“Also, it was entertaining to see you trying to take the reins,” He whispered right next to my ear before nipping it, then pecking my lips. I didn’t let him go so soon and pulled him back for a deeper kiss, earning a surprised grunt from him before his hands found my ass once again. “I think we should let them in the corridor and finish what we started,” He said against my lips. And while the idea was tempting, I couldn’t do that.

I pulled away from him at the same time the jingle of keys was heard outside, followed by the unlocking of the door. “Alright, now you can come help me Miya?” I heard Kuroo. Atsumu scurried off, I made sure to free the space on the couch for the two drunk he was bringing in. I was surprised to see Bokuto walking on his own. Maybe walking was a strong word, swaying was more adequate.

His face lit up when he saw me and pulled me into a hug while Kuroo and Atsumu carried Hinata to the couch. “You’re here too!! I missed you, did you have fun tonight? Are you hungry? I’m hungry, we should eat, I’m so thirsty too-“ With his arm around my shoulders, he led me to the kitchen and started rummaging around. I sat at the table, chuckling at his drunken yet pretty woke state until he turned around slowly and pointed at me, half crouching as he walked towards me.

“You… here? Why’re you here?” Just when he asked that, Kuroo and Atsumu joined us. Unfortunately, Atsumu spoke faster than I did. “You made the girl worried Bok, we were going to pull an all-nighter waiting for you,” He explained, standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders. I pushed them off, telling him to get away from me.

“Aww, I thought you were finally going to stop hating each other,” Bokuto whined, pulling Kuroo closer to him as he leaned his head against his shoulder. I laughed at his reaction, “I don’t hate him,” I kind of like him, was my second thought but I kept it for myself. Bokuto mumbled some more, I couldn’t quite comprehend what was being said but what I did know was that Kuroo’s eyes weren’t leaving me. He was observing.

Calling my name in a questioning manner, the black-haired man asked, “What’s that on your neck?” I placed my hands on my neck to cover whatever it was, pulling my phone to use the camera as mirror, I felt my cheeks heat up when I noticed the hickeys left by Atsumu. I started stuttering, trying to find an excuse, which was all in vain when Atsumu all but spawned behind me once more, his hands on my shoulders. He let them fall to my front, slumping over me lazily as he sighed dramatically.

“Ah, guess the cat’s out of the bag,” He shrugged, looking at the two men in front of us. That’s all I could say from the little I could see, I think he may have mouthed something but wasn’t sure, then he pressed a kiss on one of the hickeys. This part was unnecessary, so I pushed his face away in panic. “Hey, hey! there was no hiding it, they were suspicious,” He told me apologetically. That tone quickly disappeared when he faced the two men once more, “We were having fun before you called, but there isn’t any hate here. Just some feistiness, but it’s all in good fun, right? We ain’t gonna fight like animals or anything,”

The two men nodded, a confused expression still on their face. Bokuto was falling asleep standing up, but Kuroo was still fully awake. “So, it’s like, all bark, no bite?” I nodded, at the same time Atsumu laughed as he grazed his lips to the shell of my ear, whispering without moving his lips much, “A bit of bite doesn’t hurt though,” I quickly stood up after that. No wanting to listen to any more of his teasing or innuendos. Pointing at Atsumu, I said, “I can’t deal with any more of this guy, I’ll go to sleep,”

The blond called out my name, “Come on it was good, don’t rush off like that,”

“I think you could use a muzzle, Atsumu Miya, that’ll keep your mouth shut,” I rolled my eyes, but it felt like a déjà vu. I had told him to shut his mouth way too many times already and had set myself up for what came next.

When I entered his bedroom, he closed the door behind us, “Then do something about it, kiss me, do it,”

And I did, if it brought me the quiet, I desperately needed and the warmth of his hands on my hips, then I’d do it over and over again. Now bathing in the darkness of the room, I felt safe telling him, “I don’t really want you to shut up, I like it when you talk, even if you talk a lot… But I still think your mouth could be put to better use…” Lifting me off the ground, the blond grunted, “You’ve read my mind,”

That led to a continuation of what we had earlier started.

I don’t believe our friends would remember much of what happened tonight, but I sure would. I never thought I would want a cocky, arrogant, impudent, little shit, to fuck me and yet, here I was.

My mind desired something that I’d been a fool to refuse, so I let myself succumb.

#haikyu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #fanfiction #fluff #physicalturian #masterlist #haikyu #AO3 #AO3 physicalturian #writer #writings #ao3 writer

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arvandus · 4 years ago

Text

Touch (Pt 6)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ only please! Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

Synopsis: When you first joined the LOV to lend your healing quirk, Dabi terrified you. Not interested in attachments, he wanted to keep it that way. That is, until he needs your help. (Slow burn, soft Dabi).

Special thank you to @salvator-heartbreaker who has helped me hash out this chapter and some future plot details; this would not be as amazing as it is without her help!

Chapter warning: Buckle up, y’all. This chapter is LONG. Like, 12k words long (separating it into multiple chapters was NOT an option). Prepare yourself for a roller coaster of feels. Also, please PLEASE be aware of the warning tags.

Recommended Chapter Songs: Overdose by grandson/The Drug In Me Is Reimagined by Falling in Reverse

Part 1 Part 5

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 6 - The Long Night

After Dabi left, you cleaned up the various items around the room. You placed the pills back into your bag from where they were in your pocket. A moment later, you decided against that location and put the bottle under your pillow within your pillowcase. You changed your mind again, taking the pill bottle into the bathroom to stuff it with cotton. It would keep the pills from rattling. You returned the bottle to its hiding place under your pillow. If Dabi came back looking for more, you wanted to have them within reach and not where he’d immediately look for them. You placed the damp washcloth in your hamper and drank some water before lying in bed with your phone in your hand.

You were only on your phone for a few minutes before you felt sleep start to drag at your eyelids, so you turned off your light and put your phone on your nightstand. Sleep was elusive, however. You stared at the ceiling pensively. Something nagged at your mind, but in your groggy, tired state, you couldn’t figure out what it was. You felt each minute tick by with painstaking slowness, frequently checking the time on your phone while your thoughts ran a mile a minute. It mulled over what had transpired, what was said and done, and how you felt… It was like flipping through an entire novel in a matter of seconds and then trying to describe a specific, obscure scene hidden within its pages.

By your fifth minute, you gave up and sat up in your bed. Your hands went under your pillow, feeling the familiar bottle in your fingers.

Realization hit. You quickly turned on your lamp. You pulled the bottle out of your pillowcase and spilled the contents out onto your comforter. You counted the amount and your breath stopped.

No.

You counted again.

FUCK.

You always made it a point to know exactly how many pills you had of anything you carried, but especially so for these pills.

You quickly put the remaining medication back into the bottle, counting them as they fell in with a tap. Then, you got up out of your bed and hid the pills inside an unused pair of shoes which you then put into a black duffle bag in the top of your closet. You only hoped Dabi didn’t come looking for them. At this rate, if he was willing to steal from you, then he’d be willing to rifle through your things.

Betrayal, cold and hard, soaked into your bones. You tried to reason with yourself, to talk yourself through what you knew about addiction, what you had learned in med school. But taking what was learned in a textbook, with no emotional attachment, and applying it into this situation did little to assuage the feelings roiling within you. This wasn’t hypothetical. This was real.

Even worse than the betrayal was the cold hard fact: Dabi could kill himself. And all because you left him alone for less than a minute. Did he already take them? How long ago did he leave your room? Your brain didn’t have time to do the math as you dashed across the hallway to his door.

You didn’t bother to knock – not this time. Thankfully, Dabi must have been so out of it that he forgot to lock it. You barreled in like a fiery chariot knocking down Hell’s gate, slamming the door behind you loudly enough to wake the dead. You didn’t care. In that moment, nothing else mattered but getting those pills back.

Dabi sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He looked up at you groggily when the door slammed. His movements were noticeably slower, his pallor a sickly grey and shining with sweat.

“You took my pills.” You seethed. “Give them back.”

“What?” Dabi slurred.

“My pills, Dabi! Three of them are missing! Give them to me!”

He looked down at his hands as if confused by what they were. “I don’t have them.” He replied.

“Bull-fucking-shit!” you shot back. “I swear to God, Dabi, I will search this room until I find them.”

He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I already took them. And stop fucking shouting.”

“You what???” You gasped. “What the fuck, Dabi?? Why would you do that??”

He stood up now, angry at your presence, at your justified rage that he knew he was responsible for but didn’t want to face. He was barely keeping himself together as it was. His insides felt like a writhing, fiery snake. His head felt filled with cotton. And underneath it all, the pain hummed low like a purring beast. He couldn’t decide if the pills he took were actually working or not. The relief he thought they’d give him evaded him like a shadow.

“I told you I needed more.” Dabi replied.

“Dabi, you can O.D. on this!” you shot back.

“I’m not gonna O.D.” Dabi scoffed as he swayed on his feet. He fought the sickness rolling over him in waves, great crests threatening to drown him like a raging sea. He didn’t need this right now. Not with you here. Fuck. When did he get so fucking weak?

Your body instantly became poised to catch him if he fell. He needed to throw up what he took. That was the only option. Your mind frantically tried to assess if he was weak enough for you to overpower him, to try to put your fingers down his throat to trigger his gag reflex.

“Your drugs are weak as shit compared to what I was taking before. I can handle it.” He continued. “I know what I’m doing.” His eyes were unfocused as they tried to stare down at you.

Suddenly, the wave crested, higher than he could tread. Immediately his mouth began to water in sickly preparation, his gag reflex kicking in while his gut clenched. He stumbled to the bathroom, shoving you aside in the process, just in time to empty the contents of his stomach. It was clear, made of only the water he drank and the partially dissolved pills that he had stolen.

A wave of relief washed over you while Dabi emptied what remained of the drugs into the toilet. A part of you was still angry, wanting to give him an ‘I told you so,’ but you held back, instead keeping an eye on him from the bathroom doorway to make sure he was okay.

Once he was done, he leaned back against the bathroom wall, a pained grimace on his face, the metal rings pulling along his cheeks. His breaths were ragged and heavy. “Fuck.” He muttered. He should have eaten the stupid crackers. What a fucking waste.

Once you were sure he was okay for the moment, you paced back into the bedroom to try to calm your nerves. He threw up what he took. That was good. Of course, that also meant there was no telling how long your meds would stay in his system now, and once they started to wear off, he’d continue to suffer through withdrawal since you couldn’t give him more right away. This was just the beginning for him.

A knock on the door resounded into the room, interrupting your thoughts.

“Don’t answer it.” Dabi rasped from his spot next to the toilet.

You stared at him for a moment and waited while discomfort settled over you like an itchy blanket. You understood his need for privacy, but you also needed help… at least to have someone bring some water and food. It was going to be a long night and at this rate, Dabi was going to become severely dehydrated

Another knock came through, more persistent this time.

“Dabi,” called Toga’s voice. “Are you okay in there???”

Twice’s muffled voice followed. “He probably wants to be left alone. Fuck this guy.”

“I’m not gonna just leave him, Twice. You heard him in there.” Toga replied in annoyance.

Dabi groaned in frustration, his head in his shaking hands in denial. Why did it have to be Toga of all people? She was annoyingly persistent, poking her nose where it didn’t belong and not taking hints when her prying wasn’t welcome. The last thing he wanted was her and Twice standing outside his door while he hurled into the stinking toilet. They’d probably barge in without permission. You seeing him like this was bad enough – but at least he could excuse your involvement as the team’s medic, even if the vulnerability ate away at him. But letting them see him like this? He’d rather light everything on fire.

“Make them go away.” He whispered hoarsely.

You leapt at the opportunity, rushing to the door. You opened it to see Twice in his usual gear and Toga in a pink pajama set, her hair pulled back into twin buns. Her hand was outstretched as if ready to grasp an invisible doorknob.

“Hey guys.” You said through a fake bubbly smile. “It’s okay, I’m in here with him.”

“What the hell is going on??” Twice demanded.

“We heard a door slam, and yelling, and I’m pretty sure I heard someone throwing up.” Toga said crossing her arms.

They heard yelling – did they hear what you had shouted at Dabi? About him taking your drugs? You mentally scolded yourself for being so loud earlier. There had to be some way you could play it off.

You felt your skin get hot with embarrassment. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m helping him out.”

“What’s wrong?” Toga asked nosily. “Is Dabi hungover? He sounds like he’s hungover.”

“Stomach flu.” You improvised. You hoped they believed it. If they did, it’d give Dabi a reason to be left alone by the other league members for a few days while you helped him out.

Neither of them showed any doubt with your explanation. Toga made a disgusted face while Twice sighed. “Well, that’s a fucking relief. But keep the damn noise down!”

You smirked at his dual reactions. “Sorry, Twice.”

“Do you need anything?” Toga asked. “Water? Food?”

“Drugs?” Twice chimed in.

You froze like a deer in headlights for a moment before you realized he probably meant the kind that wasn’t illegal.

“Water and food would be appreciated. Something easy on the stomach, like crackers. And bananas if we have any left. I already have the other supplies I need.” You commented. Then, you remembered - Shit. Your supply bag was still in your room….

“Sure thing, big sis!” Toga replied through a cheery smile, her fangs prominent. “Come on, Twice. You can help me carry stuff.” Twice followed after her and you closed the door with a breath of relief before the sound of Dabi retching again made you go check on him.

His fingers grasped the toilet seat while his body shook, his knuckles as white as the porcelain they held onto. Spit dangled from his parted lips, his nose running, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought his body’s reactions to his poor choices.

After a minute, he leaned back and carelessly wiped his face with his bare arm, the fluids glistening on his skin in the light of the bathroom.

His face was pulled into a grimace, eyes squeezed shut against the brightness, his body slumped against the wall. “You should have taken Twice up on his offer.” He said with a forced grin through wet lips.

“Not funny, Dabi.” You scolded. “Drugs are the last thing you need. Besides, you know that’s not what he meant.”

“Well I certainly don’t think water and some fucking bananas are going to fix this.” He replied sourly.

“Better than your solution of taking six of my pills.” You shot back. “A lot of good that did you, huh?”

He opened his eyes to give you a cold glare, his mouth opening to protest. But his words were cut short by another round of vomiting, nothing coming up but thin strings of yellow bile from his empty stomach while his gut spasmed and clenched. You furrowed your brow. His nausea was getting worse, his vomiting more frequent. You wanted to use your quirk to alleviate his pain, but you couldn’t. Not for this. If his body couldn’t register the pain signals his gut was sending to his brain, then there was a chance the vomiting would stop. Throwing up was what he needed to make sure the stolen pills were out of his system.

Even aside from the vomiting, there was the issue of using your quirk too much, too soon. You could no longer fall back on your pills to manage your own pain if you pushed yourself too far. Your lower back itched uncomfortably, as if the very thought woke up the scarred nerves there, old memories threatening to follow in their wake. You pushed them aside forcefully by focusing on the man in front of you.

If you over-exerted yourself too soon, you wouldn’t be able to help him later when things got worse. Once these pills wore off, which you weren’t sure when that would happen, you wouldn’t be able to give him new ones right away. You were already short three pills after his little stint, and even if you did give him pills, his body might still reject them if it wasn’t ready for them. That would only make things exponentially worse. It was better to skip a dosage now and get back on track with the remaining medication you had. You’d pair what you’d allotted for him with your own quirk as an added relief; you only hoped the combination would be adequate until his pills became available for pickup.

Once he was done dry heaving, you handed him a hand towel from the hanging bar next to you. You had no idea if it was clean – he probably used it to dry his hands after washing them - but it didn’t really matter. It was better than using his arm again. He took it in silence, his eyes avoiding yours in what you could only describe as shame. Your heart clenched. You knew he didn’t mean for this to happen. No one ever does. You wanted to reassure him, to let him know it was all going to be okay, but words escaped you. How could you even begin to tell him something like that while he’s retching into a toilet in the wee hours of the night?

Before you could think of something to say, there was a familiar knock on the door. You forced yourself to step away and answer it. Sure enough, Toga and Twice were there, their arms full of offerings.

“Here you go.” Toga said, her arms filled with six water bottles. Twice also presented an array of items in his arms – a box of saltine crackers, some canned soup with a pull-top lid, and a couple of bananas.

“Thanks.” You replied, taking the items and placing them on Dabi’s desk. You were grateful neither of them tried to enter while you unloaded their arms; perhaps they really did believe Dabi had the flu and were too scared of catching it.

“You can go back to bed if you want. We’ll be fine.” you suggested.

“Let us know if you need anything else!” Toga offered with a toothy grin. You smiled your gratitude and closed the door as they turned to leave.

Once you heard their footsteps fade down the hall followed by the closing of bedroom doors, you returned to the bathroom with a water bottle in hand. You knew food wasn’t going to be an option for a while, but at least this might help. Even if he threw it back up, it was better than bile. But before you could even hand the bottle to him, he convulsed, hugging the toilet again, gagging and coughing. You knelt next to him patiently, ready to offer the water in your hand or the towel now forgotten on floor… whatever he needed.

He spit the drool dangling from his mouth and continued to hover over the toilet bowl with a groan. Everything hurt. His abs, his throat, his sinuses… his head was still muddled from a variety of factors – dehydration, lack of sleep, the drugs. He hated himself, reduced to a useless fucking puddle like the loser he was, and all while you were here watching him. You, who even though he let you down - even though he stole from you - continued to stay and care for him. He didn’t want that for you, and he didn’t want the guilt of your presence continuously reminding him of how he failed you while his body fell apart on him.

“Get out of here.” He said gruffly. “You don’t need to be here for this.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You replied. You knew he was pushing you away and you understood why, but that didn’t matter to you. Sure, you were mad at what he had done, but you also understood he couldn’t help it. His obvious shame was apology enough for now, and his well-being was more important to you than his pride.

“Leave.” He growled.

“I can’t.” You could feel tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes. You didn’t want to leave him. Not like this.

More dry retching overtook him, and guilt began to creep on you like a thorny vine, choking your words from your throat. He couldn’t fight you on this even if he wanted to; was it really fair to stay when he asked you to go? He made his decision clear – he wanted to be alone. Where were you supposed to draw the line between forcing your care on him for his safety versus respecting his need for privacy?

You stared at him as you warred within yourself. He obviously wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and on the upside, he did throw up some of those pills. But what about later, when the pills wear off and the hunger returns? Could you trust that he would come to you, looking for what he knew you had? Or would he go elsewhere, and risk his safety on something potentially worse? You wanted to respect his wishes, but your body wouldn’t move.

Dabi’s world was spinning; round and round he went, as if the toilet had been flushed and he and his rejected pills were being washed away like the trash that he knew he was. He was breathing heavily now, painful groans falling from his lips. “Get the fuck out, Y/N.”

The sound of your name on his lips for the first time smacked you, your breath catching painfully behind the lump in your throat. You struggled to suppress the tears threatening to unleash themselves down your face. He said your name. He had never said it before. You had imagined that the first time he’d say your name would be a sign of trust and intimacy. This wasn’t that at all. Instead, it was a weapon, a foul word that stung you like a whip.

He didn’t want you here. Maybe your presence really was just making it worse for him. He’d focus more on not wanting you around and fighting your hep than he would actually trying to fight his withdrawal. You had to leave and hope that he would be able to come out of this on his own.

Without a word, you loosened the cap on the water bottle and set it on the floor next to him as a final offering before getting up off the cold tile to leave. You left the bathroom, while the sounds of his continued retching filled your ears. Each cough and gag from his battered throat deepened your guilt, reminding you how your irresponsibility had contributed to him getting into this mess. Yes, he stole from you. It still angered you. But at the same time, you were the one who had all your mental faculties and still left drugs within his reach when he came to you for help.

You placed two water bottles and the crackers on the nightstand for him. Then, you took the half-full trash bag out of his trash can and made sure it was near his bed, just in case he needed to throw up again later.

With one more glance at him through the bathroom doorway while he sat doubled over the toilet, you made your way to the door.

Please be safe, please be safe… you silently pleaded.

Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, you heard a thud.

“Dabi? Are you okay?” you called.

Only silence greeted you. A cold panic set in and you rushed into the bathroom to find Dabi unconscious on the floor, face down in a puddle of water. The water bottle you had left had tipped over, the cold liquid spreading across the bathroom tile and soaking into Dabi’s clothes. You pushed your panic aside as you immediately switched into emergency mode. You knelt by his side and rolled him over onto his back, cupping his face in your hand. His skin felt hot to the touch.

“Dabi??” You called. No response. You checked for a pulse and felt it fluttering beneath your fingers. “DABI??” you shouted as you lightly smacked his cheek. He didn’t respond. His color was lifelessly pale, but his chest rose and fell in slow breaths. He was breathing. You checked his pupils – dilated. He definitely still had your drugs in his system. How much, you weren’t sure. Once again, you were grateful that he had managed to throw up what he could.

His skin was burning. Was it already hotter than a moment ago? Was it a fever from the withdrawal? Or was it his quirk acting up, going haywire without him being able to consciously be in control of himself? The idea of his cremation randomly unleashing itself in the small bathroom made your throat dry up with dread.

You had to cool him down somehow. Dabi’s bathroom had a walk-in shower just a foot away, and you gave a silent thankful prayer to the universe. A bathtub would have made this entire fiasco exponentially more difficult.

First, you had to remove his clothes. They were trapping in his body heat at the moment, compounding his fever.

It wasn’t easy. Dabi was lean, but he certainly didn’t lack muscle, and what he lacked for in bulk, he made up for in height. It was awkward in the small space as you pulled his sweatpants off of him, exposing scarred legs with metal staples curving along his thighs. You left his boxers on. You couldn’t bring yourself to take them off of him while he was unconscious. His head lolled to the side while his eyes, now half-lidded, stared with an empty, unconscious gaze. His shirt was next, wet with sweat, water, and specks of bile. The fresh bandage that you had recently applied fell off as soon as the cotton fabric wasn’t there to hold it in place. The wound was healing, but it was still pink and raw. The slightest amount of pressure would reopen the sensitive tissue, undoing your hard work.

You needed your med kit.

Once he was undressed, you rolled him to his side. You didn’t want him to aspirate if he ended up vomiting again. Then, you ran the shower to let the water warm slightly. It needed to be lukewarm – cool enough to bring down his fever, but not so cold that it would shock his system and make him shiver. Shivering helped to increase body temperature, and that was the last thing he needed.

Once the water was running, you took one last look at the man laying unconscious on his side before making a mad dash out of his room and into yours to grab your medical bag by your bed. There was no time to double check the supplies in it; you only hoped you had what you needed. You grabbed a couple of clean towels from your own bathroom before running back into his room, thankfully unnoticed in the empty hall. It took less than a minute.

You bandaged his wound back up quickly, while he was on his side. It wasn’t the neatest work, but it would do for now. Already, his body temperature was noticeably higher than when you had left him. There was no time to check it with your thermometer - it was a race against the clock, now.

You rolled Dabi back onto his back to try and rouse him once again, picking him up slightly so he lay in your lap, while you called his name and cupped his cheek. His eyes fluttered open slightly, his head shifting at the sound of your voice, before his eyes closed again. You cursed under your breath and laid him back down the way you had him before while you checked the water temperature. It was warm enough, or so you hoped, since his own temperature kept rising. You turned off the water briefly to retrieve the unconscious man.

Finally, you were ready. You tried to grab Dabi from under his armpits, but his skin was almost too hot to touch for an extended period of time. Definitely quirk related. You grabbed a spare towel and tried again, this time protecting your hands and arms against his scalding skin. You wrapped your hands around his chest, your arms under his armpits, and began to drag him to the shower stall. You tried your best to be mindful of his scars and staples, hoping that dragging him across the floor wouldn’t tear anything. For a shower that was so close in proximity, it took a painstakingly long time to get him into it and properly positioned before you could step out and turn the shower back on.

Lukewarm water sputtered out of the showerhead, drenching his body from the chest down. The water steamed upon contact, reacting to the heat rolling off of him like asphalt on a hot summer’s day. Dabi stirred slightly, roused to consciousness by the sensation and the change in temperature. He looked around groggily until his blue eyes settled on you. You waited for him to say something, but no words came as his dazed eyes seemed to lose focus. The only sign that he was still somewhat conscious was the occasional slow blink while he watched you take a wet washcloth and squeeze it over his head to let the cool water soak his hair and dribble down his face and neck. The water trickled down his forehead to his brow, and you tenderly wiped it away with the washcloth to keep it from getting into his eyes. You followed the contours of his face with the cool cloth, along his jawline, across his cheeks.

Dabi closed his eyes for minutes at a time, only opening them briefly as you adjusted the water temperature slightly and again as your ran your fingers through his wet hair, moving the dripping strands from his forehead so you could see his face better. Color slowly began to creep back into his skin, the water no longer steamed. What you were doing was working, and you were grateful – so grateful – that you hadn’t left him yet. The rush of time slowed down. Dabi’s eyes closed again as you quietly hummed to yourself as you cared for him. It helped to calm your nerves and pass the time.

After what felt like ages, you finally checked his temperature, this time with the temporal thermometer you had in your bag. The number that beeped back at you satisfied you enough to turn the water off. You gave Dabi’s shoulder a small shake, and his eyes opened to look at you under heavy lids.

“Come on.” You whispered. “I need you to stand up.”

He licked his chapped lips as he braced himself into a standing position with your help and made the two feet distance to sit on his toilet, his wet boxers dribbling puddles of water onto the floor. You covered him in two towels, one for his head and one for his shoulders, before you stepped out of the bathroom for a moment to get him fresh clothes.

You realized quickly that he’d need to change out of his wet boxers – something you hadn’t considered earlier when you undressed him. You gulped briefly. Could he even do that on his own right now? He still was out of it and needed assistance just to stand.

There was no way around it. You’d have to help him.

You grabbed a pair of fresh boxers, black jersey shorts, and a white tee before returning to the bathroom. He was in the position you left him, the only difference being that he was now leaning against the wall while he sat on the toilet. His eyes were closed at first but they opened slightly when you nudged him gently. He still looked completely out of it.

Even so, you talked to him. “Dabi,” you whispered. “I have to change your boxers so I can put dry clothes on you. I’m going to help you stand up.”

He gave a slow blink but made no attempt to move or speak. As you wrapped your arms around his chest to help him up, he didn’t fight you, leaning his weight into you just enough to rise slightly from his sitting position. You weren’t sure how conscious he really was for this. Was he aware of what was going on, of what you were doing? Or was his body going through the motions, barely registering his environment? You hoped it was the latter.

“I won’t look.” You promised. You looped your fingers into the wet waistband and pulled it down, before letting him sit back down on the toilet. With your eyes respectfully averted, you pulled the wet material off the rest of the way down his legs and off his feet. You quickly dried his legs off before grabbing the clean boxers you had set up on top of his sink, the only dry spot left in the bathroom. Through the use of touch, you were able to put his feet into them and pull them up just above his bent knees. His shorts followed until both items were pulled up as high as they would go in his sitting position.

“One more time.” You said. With him braced against you, you grabbed both waistbands and pulled his clothes on. A moment later, he was sitting back down, properly covered. You proceeded with your administrations now that the hard part was done. You dried his hair with the towel still on his head, and then dried his torso and arms using the towel on his shoulders. By the time you were helping him with his tee shirt, he was starting to show some cognizance, pushing his arms out through the holes himself once you got them into position.

Quickly you flushed the toilet he was sitting on, washing away the contents from earlier, and gathered the soiled clothes and towels from the floor before taking them to the laundry hamper in his room. It was still dark outside, and you wondered what time it was. 3:30am? 4? You had no way of knowing; you had left your phone in your room. With the situation no longer critical, your adrenaline finally started to drop. Exhaustion pulled at you, a heavy blanket threatening to smother you until you surrendered. You were so tired, that even Dabi’s bed looked inviting at this point.

You forced yourself to keep going.

You grabbed one of the water bottles from his nightstand, hoping that you could finally get him to drink something now that the vomiting was over and he was starting to gain awareness again.

When you came back to the bathroom, Dabi looked up at you as you entered, his eyes truly seeing you for the first time.

“You’re still here.” He slurred, his voice raspy.

“You noticed, huh?” you gave a small smirk, an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

He was quiet for a moment and looked down, confusion on his face. “I told you to leave.”

“Yeah, well I was going to, but then you passed out on the bathroom floor.” You replied. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

He didn’t respond. The fight in him was gone for the moment. He was placid now, almost childlike. You opened the water bottle and handed it to him, but he turned his head away.

“Please, Dabi…” you begged.

He looked back at the item in your hand and stared at it for a moment before finally taking it and taking a small sip. He grimaced painfully.

Of course; after all that vomiting he did earlier, his throat probably hurt like hell.

You pointed at his neck. “May I?” You hoped he understood.

He seemed to. He lowered the water bottle from his lips to allow you access to his throat, and gently you placed your hand over it, feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed against your cool touch. Your quirk seeped into him like honey into a cake, coating his throat and washing the burning pain away.

He swallowed again, this time without flinching. His eyes stared at you, still hazy, but with the hint of something lively in them –a flicker of kindling. He took your hand from his neck and moved it down to his abdomen.

“Here.” He spoke.

You understood, but you hesitated. Would you be able to keep your quirk focused on just the nerves of his muscles? Or would it go deeper than that, impacting the nerves in his gut? That could have its own effects – he won’t feel the burning in his gut, but he also won’t feel hunger for a while, and may not feel that urge to vomit again even if his body needed to later.

“Just a little bit.” You replied.

You felt your quirk trickle into him, like water through cracks in concrete. Once your quirk felt the resistance of the deeper layers of muscle and tissue, you pulled your hand away. If you pushed any further, it’d be too much. He might feel some pain still, but it should be mitigated at least.

“Drink more now. Please.” You ordered.

He obliged, drinking the water in large, thirsty gulps for the first time that evening. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth and handed the empty water bottle to you. You set it on his sink next to the faucet, in case it needed to be refilled later on.

“Come on,” you said. You kneeled down and put his arm around your shoulder, helping him stand. “Let’s get you into bed.”

He didn’t respond; instead, he let you lead him out of the bathroom to the edge of his bed where he fell into it. You debated on whether or not you could leave him there and finally retreat to your room for much-needed rest, but you decided against it. The meds that were flowing in his system were going to start wearing off soon. He will be hungering for more, and you won’t be able to give it to him this time. If you left him alone here, he’d either somehow end up back in your room hunting for that hidden bottle, or he’d go out on the street to try to score whatever he could, no matter the consequences.

There was no choice. You had to stay. And when his pain became too much, you’d help out as best you could. Maybe you could mitigate the symptoms enough to last him until tomorrow evening. By then, you could start him back up on your pills.

You hoped you could handle it. You’d already used your quirk three times tonight - twice just now, and once earlier when you treated his burn in your room. Already, the environment seemed a little harsher to you. Light was brighter, noises louder… It wasn’t too terrible just yet, but all of your senses were heightened more than they were before. The damaged nerves on your back, always hidden by your shirt, itched irritably. It was still bearable – for now.

A sense of trepidation filled you. You’d gone so long without over-exerting your quirk… it had taken only one time to experience it, and you vowed to never let it happen again. Then again, you never expected to be single-handedly dealing with drug addiction and withdrawal for a man who takes enough opioids to take down an elephant.

You peaked at him in his bed where he lay curled up on his side. His eyes were closed for the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was asleep or not. Without disturbing him, you managed to steal a spare pillow from his bed. Then, with a heavy, resigned sigh, you laid down in front of his door, his pillow your only comfort. If he tried to leave, he’d have to go through you. The window was unguarded, but you weren’t too worried – you were three stories up. The building was an old hotel, so all fire escapes were located at the end of the hall, and he was in no condition to try to climb down the rusty drainpipes.

Despite the hardness of the floor and the coldness of the air, sleep claimed you within seconds, the scent of Dabi enveloping you.

As you slept, Dabi stirred restlessly in his bedsheets, his mind drifting between a vague wakefulness and dreams.

There was humming. Someone was singing. It soothed him.

He blinked.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make out the words. Something cool and wet passed across his forehead. Was this real?

He blinked.

Your face peered up at him, filled with a loving concern as your hand cupped his cheek, your thumb stroking across his stitches softly. Was THIS real?

He blinked.

He stared at himself, his scars gone, his hair a deep red. His blue eyes echoed his other self like an infinite row of mirrors.

He blinked.

He tried to speak, but pills kept falling from his mouth, choking his words. He couldn’t breathe. His other self stood before him, hands cupped and outstretched as the pills filled them and overflowed, scattering over the floor like a child’s marbles.

He blinked.

All he could see was a blue sky, but there were sounds. The sound of children’s laughter, the sound of a ball being kicked. The was a faint smell of dirt in the air. He was happy.

He blinked.

A woman sat near a window, bathed in sunlight with a white bundle cradled in her arms. Something about her was oddly familiar, yet he couldn’t place her. She sang. “My little Shouto. My sweet, little Shouto…” A baby cooed. Her face turned to him, but her features were hazy, hard to see through the dust that danced in the sunbeams. She reached out a long, slender hand. “Come here, Touya. Meet your little brother.”

He blinked.

He saw the woman again, standing at the end of a lake dock in a white dress, her hair billowing like a white flag of surrender. The lake was smooth as glass, a white mist ghosting over its glossy waters. He knew her.

Mother.

He tried to call to her, but his words were silent, falling from voiceless lips like birds with broken wings. She put one foot out over the water and fell silently, disappearing beneath the murky depths without a splash. A cold dread filled him. Frantically, he ran towards the water, but before he could dive in, the water on the lake erupted into orange, writhing flames. The wood beneath his feet crackled and charred, flames licking at his legs, his arms, his face. The dock broke and suddenly he was drowning, boiling water filling his lungs. Unseen hands grasped at his limbs, pulling him down, down, into the darkness, his flesh turning to ash beneath their touch.

Dabi woke with a shout, his eyes wide and filled with a wild fear. He felt restrained, his legs unable to move.

“Hold him down.” Said a familiar, gruff voice. The smell of cigarette smoke choked him. “I told you this would hurt, kid.”

Suddenly, your face came into view, hovering over him with your hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Dabi. Dabi!” you called. You stared down at him with worry, dark circles under your bloodshot, tired eyes.

You were here.

The waking nightmare lifted and suddenly he was gasping for air like a deep-sea diver, heavy breaths filling his lungs as he broke through the surface into consciousness. “Y/N?” he said, his voice sounding strangely strangled to his ears. His eyes looked around frantically, taking in his room. A dark twilight was starting to emerge from the clouded, early morning sky outside, dark blue-grey contrasting with the yellow light seeping from the edges of his closed his bathroom door. The colors framed your face as you spoke to him

“Hey, it’s okay.” You said soothingly. “It was just a dream.”

His bedsheets were tangled around his bare legs like a snake. Dabi kicked them off and sat up in his bed with a wince. “I need some water.” An open water bottle appeared in front of him, which he gratefully took and drank.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

Dabi handed the bottle back to you without looking. “I’m fine.” He said gruffly; more so than he intended. But he wasn’t fine. Everything hurt. His head was pounding. His damaged nerves were starting to scream while his body felt as if it had been forced into a box that was too small, aching in places he never thought it could ache. Underneath it all, humming low like a wild animal growling a warning, sat an uneasiness - a dark, nervous energy - threatening to envelop him and wrap him up tightly in despair. Flashes of dreams – or were they memories? – threatened to drag him back down into the darkest parts of himself.

Dabi grappled for control, but he was losing.

You placed a concerned hand over his and he withdrew from your touch, the affection foreign to him. The heavy weight of shame sat deep in his gut as he took in your weary face. Somewhere, beneath the noisy din of his mind, a thought occurred to him: this was taking its toll on you too.

“Why are you still here?” he asked as he laid back onto his damp pillow, his arm over his eyes.

“Because you need me.” You replied.

He clenched his jaw. “No, I don’t.” The words were feeble and weak in his mouth, not an ounce of truth in them. You both knew it.

“I’m too tired to argue with you.” You stated as you rubbed at the bridge of your nose.

“Then go to bed.” He replied.

You wanted to growl in frustration, your own exhaustion making your fuse especially short. If he could just not fight you every step of the way, that’d be great.

“The last time I almost left, you fainted on the bathroom floor in a puddle of water while your body tried to combust itself. So no, I’m not leaving.”

Your tone allowed no more room for argument, your words forcing Dabi to sulk silently. He sat up from his reclined position, his long, scarred legs swinging over the side of the bed to plant firmly on the ground. His leg began to bounce and jitter, an attempt to relieve the irritated, unfocused energy that swirled inside of him like a cyclone. He felt like hell. He was a desert, his body and mind parched as the drugs in his system began to dry up. Even the slightest bit of movement set his nerves ablaze, pain coursing over his skin like a wildfire. He was tired… so fucking tired.

You reached across him, your proximity allowing him to smell the shampoo in your hair as your arm and shoulder pressed against him. For the briefest of moments, he felt something akin to peace break through his stormy mind like sunlight. It was short-lived though. Your closeness left as quickly as it had come, taking the sunshine with it.

“Hey…” you whispered next to him, a pack of crackers in your hand. You opened the packaging and handed him one. “Try to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” He replied.

“I don’t care. You need to eat.” You replied.

He didn’t have the strength to fight you. Begrudgingly, he took the cracker and nibbled on it. There was no pleasure in it, his jaw going through the motions like a machine as he chewed and swallowed.

You continued to talk to him, your voice soft, as you handed him another cracker. “You’re going into withdrawal again.” You stated.

“I know.”

“It might actually feel worse this time.”

“It does.”

Your face blurred as another wave of fiery pain washed over him, making him double over, the cracker crumbling like ashes in his fist. He gasped and panted against it, his body shaking from the stress.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me help you.” You said. “Let me use my quirk.”

For the briefest of moments, Dabi’s pained expression lifted, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. “It won’t be enough.” He replied.

“Let me try.” You begged.

He stared at you. It was either this, or drugs.

He nodded.

You took his hand in yours and began to trace your fingers along his staples, your quirk seeping in. He inhaled a sharp breath. The pain dissipated where your touch landed. It soaked into his aching bones like heavy rainfall on a burning forest. There was a moment of clarity, the sensation so shocking that it distracted him from his suffering. Slowly you let your hands follow up the length of his arm, following his scars and leaving a humming numbness in its wake. Then, you took his other hand to continue the same treatment on the other side.

Dabi stared at his painless hand in vague fascination. It didn’t seem like it belonged to him. His vision blurred, memory replacing reality.

His hands were smaller now, the stitches gone. The skin was bubbled and blistered, and he could hear his own quiet sobs as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Hey, sweetie.” A soft voice called. Pale, white, delicate hands wrapped around his own damaged ones.

He looked up to see his mother smiling at him. It was a sad smile, full of love, but never quite reaching her tired eyes.

“It hurts.” He sobbed.

“I know.” She soothed. “It’s okay.” A cool frost began to ghost over his damaged skin, soothing the burning, throbbing pain.

“Why does my quirk hurt me, mommy?” he heard himself ask.

“It’s my fault, honey.” She whispered, tears stinging her grey eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” Dabi whispered.

Your touch on his collarbone pulled him back to reality on a thin, white thread.

“What was that?” you asked, your fingers pausing in their work.

“What?” he replied, disoriented.

“You said ‘it’s not your fault.’” You replied with a confused look. “What’s not my fault?”

“Nothing.” He responded as he turned his head away from your prying gaze.

You didn’t pursue it. Dabi was grateful. Instead, he felt your cool touch return to his collarbone to trace along the muscles of his neck and shoulders. While your touch helped initially, the cloud of suffering followed close behind from the places you had yet to reach, a parade of aches and throbs blaring their horns against his brain. His body focused on the noise and continued to shiver and shake while he struggled to keep himself focused.

His face was next, so you cupped his cheek in your hand and gently returned his averted gaze to you. His blue eyes locked with yours, and you stared into them for a moment, captivated by their beauty, aching with their suffering. He didn’t deserve this. Any of this. You could only hope that what you were doing was enough, that it could make a difference.

Your fingers rushed and fumbled clumsily across the lower half of his face and beneath his eyes. You couldn’t quite explain why. Perhaps it felt too personal, even after all you two had been through so far. You barely touched his lower lip, the sensation of its roughness sending electric tingles up your fingertips. You desperately wanted to slow down, take your time, and cherish. But you couldn’t. Such exploration was far too intimate to happen here, now, under such heavy circumstances.

You paused for a moment in your administrations as sweat started to break across your brow. The light from the bathroom felt unusually bright to your eyes and you could feel a headache start to form. A shiver began to take you as your body became increasingly sensitive to the cool temperature of the room, each soft gust of air from the open window feeling like an icy blast. Even your hearing was more sensitive – you could hear Dabi’s heavy breaths as his body struggled; you could hear the early morning sounds of songbirds beginning to sing as the sky gradually lightened outside. The rumble of a car passing by on the street sounded like a freight train. All of your nerves were beginning to tingle, and you became increasingly aware of the texture of the clothing on your skin, the feel of Dabi’s staples beneath your hands. Most of all, the scarred nerves on your back were beginning their own little dance, sending small shoots of tingling pain up your spine.

It was already happening. The feedback from your quirk was starting to cross the threshold into painful overstimulation. It was happening far sooner than you had hoped. But then again, you’d already used your quirk three times within the past eight hours, and your body was already at its limits in other ways. Even quirks could be impacted by physical fatigue, dehydration, hunger… it was like trying to run a marathon on zero sleep and an empty stomach.

Dread settled into your empty gut, making a home there out of wild, thorny weeds. They tangled themselves in your limbs, slowing your movements as your mind began to race. Would you really be able to help him?

Your worried thoughts were interrupted by the sound of multiple ‘dings’ coming from Dabi’s phone that sat neglected on his nightstand, as a series of text messages came through. Each ding vibrated your inner ear at the loudness. A few minutes later, you heard the sound of bedroom doors opening and closing in the hallway. Your hands froze over Dabi’s skin as you waited and listened. Muffled voices vibrated on the other side of the thin walls, your sensitive ears picking up every word.

“Why the hell do Kurogiri and Shigaraki have us getting up so goddamn early?” Twice complained.

Spinner’s voice answered. “He said he’ll explain it to us downstairs. Something about our next mission, I guess. Something to do with the Yakuza.”

A loud yawn came from Toga. “Couldn’t it have waited?? I still need my beauty sleeeeeep….” She whined.

Magne’s voice soon followed. “You’re already beautiful, sweetie.”

“You’re the best, Magne…”

Their voices faded as they entered the old elevator at the end of the hall, it’s off-key ding marking the closing of the doors.

A heavy silence followed. You and Dabi were alone now, the entire floor empty. A confusing combination of relief and anxiety washed over you. The privacy was good, but then again, there was no one around to help if you really needed it.

You returned your gaze to Dabi who sat in silence while his withdrawal continued to wash over him. If your quirk had helped so far, you couldn’t really tell. His breaths were still labored and his vision unfocused as his body shook slightly. He sat there as if waiting. Waiting for you? Or was he still falling in his mind, waiting to crash hard across the sharp jagged rocks of his withdrawal before you could catch him?

He had more scars you needed to tend to… on his legs, his back, his left side just below his ribs, and over his hips, the dark tissue disappearing beneath his shorts. This wasn’t even counting the rest of the pain he felt everywhere else in his body simply from not having any drugs in his system. You were only able to do damage control on the parts that hurt the most. What if it wasn’t enough? It wasn’t a possibility you had considered before.

You swallowed, your mouth and throat dry. You had to try.

“Let’s take off your shirt.” You said. “It’ll make it easier for me to reach your other scars.”

He didn’t respond to you, his gaze unfocused.

Scars… scars….

The word echoed in his mind, and he followed it as it led him down an invisible road to another memory.

“Eww, look at his scars!” a kid said to his friend, his finger pointing.

The friend wrinkled in disgust. “Gross!”

“Dabi?” a voice called. He turned and saw his sister. His brow furrowed. Something wasn’t right. The name didn’t match the movement of her lips…

“Dabi??” your voice cut through, and the memory disappeared.

Dabi looked up at you, confused. “Hm?”

“Your shirt. We have to take it off.”

He silently lifted his shirt over his head, while you watched him with worry. It wasn’t hard for you to figure out what was happening. He was having long moments of non-responsiveness, getting repeatedly lost in his thoughts. You didn’t know much about him, but you could hazard a guess that this guy probably did not have a happy backstory. Villains never did. No doubt the lack of drugs in his system was bringing up that backstory for him right now. The concern, however, was that that was something that was completely outside of your scope. Physical pain was one thing. Mental pain was an entirely different beast. All you could hope for was that your physical treatments could help him enough that he could handle his mental issues by himself.

You took a moment to assess his body and how it was responding to your quirk. His leg no longer bounced, and the shivering was reduced. He showed no hesitation or pain when he removed his shirt. It was definitely doing something.

It gave you hope.

You kept going, your hands washing over wherever the scars presented themselves. Your relief continued to pour into him, but it was impaired now, impacted by your body’s need to limit itself. It was like holding your hand in increasingly hot water – at some point your body was going to recoil to protect you before you burned yourself. You were pushing yourself dangerously far, but you didn’t have a choice. If you stopped now, all of this would be for nothing.

As you struggled to treat every damaged part of him, your heightened senses became worse and worse. And the scar on your back… the one that you always kept covered, the one you never told anyone about because of what it represented… that hurt the most. It burned nearly as fresh as it had when you first got it, a hot searing pain, and panic started to seep into your mind.

You forced yourself to focus on the present, to keep yourself in control. Your hands were on his legs now. You counted the staples as your fingers passed over them.

One, two, three, four, five…

This was the reason you needed your meds. Everything else you could handle on your own. But the scar… the scar always hurt if you pushed too far, and the memories associated with it were never far behind. And this was the farthest you had pushed in a long time

Six, seven, eight, nine…

But you couldn’t take your pills. And you couldn’t cry. Dabi would see it, and there was no telling how he would respond. You silently clenched your jaw and hoped that he didn’t notice the sweat across your skin or the way your hands were shaking now.

Finally, your hands reached his feet, and you couldn’t deny your fingers rushed across the staples that marked the end of your journey. Your touches were done, your quirk spent. Your body was tensed now, each muscle tightened in an attempt to keep yourself together.

You looked back up at him and watched him intently, hopefully, forcing your eyes to focus on him and only him, as you tried to tune out the rest of the environment that was demanding your attention. His body no longer shook. But his eyes were still glazed over and his hands were still wrapped around his core. Was he still in pain? Or was he holding himself for comfort?

Although the battleground of Dabi’s body was more balanced now with your help, the war within himself was far from over. His muscles still ached where your hands had yet to reach, and his head still hurt almost to the point of sickness. But most importantly, while your touch soothed the physical, the mental was left unbarred. The demons of the flesh were replaced by demons of the past, as memory after suppressed memory crashed back into Dabi’s defenseless mind.

“Don’t stop.” He begged in a strained whisper. “I need more.”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t have any more. You gave everything you could and now you were hanging on by a thread.

You no longer had the will or strength to hold in your emotions. Tears slipped down your cheeks, wet roads marking your failure, your failure to subdue his suffering as you had promised.

“I can’t.” you sobbed.

He stared at you foggily, confused by the tears on your cheeks. Were you crying?

“Are you crying??” demanded a deep, angry voice.

Dabi squeezed his eyes shut against the sound, as memory mingled with reality. It sounded real.

Dabi knew he was hallucinating from the withdrawal. Years of dependency had the wires in his brain crisscrossed, and now they were misfiring as it tried to process the trauma he had neglected. Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was here. He sensed his towering, overbearing presence, could feel the heat of the fire rolling off of his broad shoulders. He wasn’t ‘Dabi’ in that moment. He was ‘Touya,’ small and weak. He couldn’t suppress the fear that followed, crawling up his skin like a thousand ants. He wanted to run from it, but he couldn’t.

This was hell. He was in hell. He couldn’t make the voices stop, couldn’t make the memories disappear. He was cornered, with no way out.

Dabi craved surrender, to satisfy the addiction and let it wash over him. He wanted it drown his shame and agony, leaving nothing but that comforting, vengeful rage he was so used to. It was the only thing that worked, the only thing he believed in. If he could just get the right drugs, enough drugs, then all of this would go away. It was his only option. Earlier was just a mistake, his broken mind reasoned. He wouldn’t have thrown up those pills if he ate something, after all. This time… this time, he’d be okay. He ate those crackers, didn’t he?

Desperation fueled him, fear and exhaustion consumed him as he locked his eyes on you with intense purpose. “I need those pills. NOW.”

You shook your head vigorously as your words fell from your trembling lips. “I don’t have them.” More tears slipped down your cheeks.

“ARE YOU CRYING??”

A child sobbed.

“Get up. I SAID GET UP.”

Dabi’s blood went cold. He knew this memory. No, no, no…

Dabi leapt out of his bed, nearly knocking you over in the process.

His frantic eyes spotted your medical bag against the wall and before you could even get off the bed, he was dumping its contents all over the floor. Scissors, gauze, over-the-counter pain medicine, and a variety of other items rolled across the hard wood with a clatter. You winced. He threw the bag aside when he couldn’t find what he wanted.

“Where did you put it??” Dabi demanded. His world spun, but he managed to find the wall with his hand and used it to brace himself up.

“I can’t tell you that.” You replied as you stood up.

“So now you’re keeping them from me?” he seethed.

Now that he knew the drugs weren’t in the room, you knew he would try to leave. You made yourself stand up, stifling a cry with a bite of your tongue as your shirt rubbed against your back, to position yourself between him and the door. Fear coursed through you. Even though he was weakened from all that he’d gone through, you knew he could easily overpower you.

You put your hands out towards him cautiously. “We either deal with this now and be done with it, or we deal with it all over again later when the pills run out. You’ve already been through so much. Please, Dabi, don’t give up. You can fight this.”

“You’re pathetic. Weak, like your mother.”

He covered his ears, a futile attempt at blocking the voices from within.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t fight this. The pain was too much, the exhaustion too heavy, the emotions too raw. He needed the drugs. His survival depended on it. Without them, he would go insane. Hadn’t he suffered enough? He wanted to scream, to break things, to ignite his cremation and send everything to ash, including himself. But he didn’t. Perhaps it was the cowardice of dying, or the dissatisfaction of unfinished business, or even the simple fact that you were here with him. Instead, he tried to step around you, but you matched him move for move, blocking his exit. He was trapped.

“Get the fuck outta my way.” Dabi growled.

“No.” you said firmly, even as your body shook in fear and pain. Your eyes were trained on his hands. What if he decided to use his quirk? He wouldn’t… would he?

His face contorted in rage. Betrayal, his mind seethed. You cared more about protecting your precious stash than you did about him. How could you be so fucking selfish?

“You just want to keep the pills for yourself.” He spat.

His accusation shocked you. “W-what?”

“Admit it. You’re a fucking addict just like me. THAT’S WHY YOU WON’T LET ME HAVE ANY!”

“I’m not!” you protested. “Dabi, I’m trying to help you!”

“I’m sorry!” Touya begged. “Let me try again. I just wanna be like you! I wanna be a hero, too!”

“You’ll NEVER be like me! You’re a DISGRACE! A failed experiment!”

“No, no, NO!” Dabi shouted as he squeezed his eyes shut, his fists pounding his head. He opened his eyes, a wildness in them that terrified you. He grabbed at you then, his long fingers wrapping around your biceps with shocking force as he prepared to physically move you from his path. You cried out in pain, his touch like knives against your sensitive skin.

“Dabi, stop it, you’re hurting me!” you cried.

Your frantic words cut through his crazed mind. He stared at you, bewildered, taking in the terror in your eyes, the tears on your face. He saw his hands gripping you, your arms bent up in front of you defensively in fear.

In fear of him.

He let you go, stumbling back a step. He stared at his open palms in horror, his chest heaving. He’d grabbed you. Hurt you. It was his worst fear come to life. He really was like him.

His hands morphed before his eyes, the scars and staples vanishing, and suddenly they were bigger, rougher. They were his father’s hands. And as he looked up, he no longer saw you. Now, he saw his mother, her eyes holding the same fear yours did a moment ago, a fear he’d seen countless times as she tried to defend her children. Those eyes were now trained on him, and it felt as if his soul was being ripped to shreds.

“I-I’m sorry.” He stuttered. He needed her forgiveness. Did he even deserve such a thing? He fell to his knees with a choked sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated.

You stared in shock as you watched him fall apart before you, rambling apologies and broken words falling from his lips. You whispered that it was alright, but he couldn’t hear you, too far lost in whatever nightmare he was stuck in. You knelt next to him and placed a gentle hand on his back, rubbing small circles in the space between his shoulders.

He could feel it… his mother’s touch, cool on his back and warm on his soul. He was falling and no longer knew where he was. He only knew that this touch between his shoulder blades was an anchor to a place he couldn’t reach, a place he longed for but never believed existed for him. It was an exoneration, made of mercy and love, sewing together his broken pieces with a golden thread. He wasn’t worthy of it. He cried.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you bore witness to his agony, this unknown monster that haunted him as he sobbed, completely dismantled and unaware of your presence. There was nothing you could do, no way you could help him through this. All you could do was be here for him. You wouldn’t let him go through this alone

You wrapped your arms around his head as you buried your face into his black hair, your own tears running down into his dark strands. His body responded, lean, strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed himself against your stomach and suddenly the two of you were entwined, with him halfway in your lap, gripping you like a child would his mother as his body shook and his tears ran hot into your clothes.

With every inch of you on the brink, your body screamed at his iron-like grip around your waist. Even so, you twined your fingers into his thick hair, bracing the palms of your hands against his sweating skull. With one last surge, you drew what you could of your quirk, scraping the dredges of your ability, and pushed, deep into his brain where the pain still sat like a bullet in a wound that couldn’t heal. A choked sob escaped your lips as your body was pushed passed its threshold, your world exploding in color, sound, and pain. Dabi’s own sobs fell silent and his body went limp in your lap, his arms around your waist going slack. He was unconscious.

A deafening silence fell across the room, slowly replaced by the sounds of daily life from outside – the bustle of traffic, someone’s radio blaring, people laughing. It felt out of place in contrast to all that had transpired and clashed harshly with your ears. The sun was completely up now, the grey haze of morning burned away. It seeped past the cracks in the curtains, a beam of light streaking across the floor to kiss the face of the man now passed out in your lap. The brightness of the sunlight made you squint against it, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You watched the tension in his face disappear, furrowed brows and wrinkled forehead smoothing over, his lips parting in a relaxed breath. It was the first time you’d ever seen him look so peaceful.

You watched as your tears fell on his pale cheek to slip down and catch onto a metal ring. Suddenly, you were doubled over him, sobbing violently into his shoulder. The rollercoaster of all that had happened crashed over you in unrelenting waves as your body screamed at the entire loudness of the world around you. As you cried, the broken man beneath you slept. There was no waking him now; his own exhaustion had claimed him once you hit his withdrawal at its source.

After what felt like ages, your sobbing subsided, and your tears dried up. Your body and soul were spent. They screamed for relief, for silence, for sleep. Slowly, you removed Dabi from your lap before finally staring at him, asleep on the floor. There was no way you could get him back into his bed, but you’d do what you could to make him comfortable. Even the slightest bit movement was agony, but you forced yourself forward with painstaking slowness. You managed to get the pillow you had borrowed under his head and draped his blanket over him before you grabbed a water bottle for yourself and downed its contents. You followed it up with a banana, although your stomach roiled slightly, the pain in your lower back bringing forth a wave of nausea that you fought with clenched teeth and deep breaths through the nose.

Every movement was stiff and calculated to try to mitigate your own suffering as you gathered the items Dabi had emptied across the floor earlier. When you finally left his room, it felt like entering another dimension, the hallway oddly quiet and peaceful.

On tired, aching feet you crossed the hallway to your room and entered. As soon as the door closed behind you, you dropped your bag and headed straight for the bathroom. As you passed your closet, you eyed the duffle bag stashed up high in your closet, your mind longingly thinking of its hidden contents. You did your best to ignore it. The idea of having to go through it all again because you couldn’t exercise self-control was enough to keep you from giving into temptation.

Instead, you pulled your over the counter pain relief pills from your medicine cabinet and took four of them; they might not work as well as what you were used to, but it was better than nothing. Your body screamed for sleep, but you knew that sleep would elude you as long as your senses were going haywire and your back burned.

So, you closed your bathroom door to plunge yourself into darkness and turned on your bathtub, adjusting the temperature to an equilibrium that matched with your own body. You undressed yourself, slowly, grateful to no longer feel the itchiness of the cotton on your skin while the soles of your bare feet complained about the cold hardness of your bathroom floor. Once the tub was full and the faucet turned off, you entered the water slowly and submerged yourself until only your mouth and nose were above water.

Immediately, a familiar, comfortable silence fell over you as the water entered your ears and muted your hearing, your closed eyes blocked out any remaining light that the bathroom door couldn’t eliminate, and the water caressed your skin in a gentle, numbing embrace.

This was what you needed – sensory deprivation. Or, at least the best you could do with your current situation. A heated pool was more ideal of course, but clearly not an option right now. You could feel the edges of the tub press on your skin where you couldn’t quite fit or where the water wasn’t quite deep enough to fully support you with its buoyancy. But still, it was far better than anything else you had at your disposal.

If it weren’t for the fear of water getting into your nose and lungs, you would have fallen asleep right there in an instant. Instead, you lingered, your mind filled with memories and thoughts of the gauntlet you had somehow managed to survive. You wondered if Dabi would remember all of it when he finally woke up, or if some of it would get lost or buried.

Will he be okay after you used your quirk on his mind? You hadn’t thought about it when you did it – your instinct took over, fueled by desperation and emotional turmoil at seeing him fall apart in front of you against his will. You’d never used your quirk like that before, and it scared you.

There was nothing you could do but wait. Wait and see what happened.

You left the bathtub once the water started to get cold and dressed yourself in your softest article of clothing before falling into bed. Your blackout curtains did their best to block out the daytime, but nothing could be done for the noise, the old windows made of thin glass. But fatigue pulled heavy, its weight stronger than your quirk’s feedback. Time lost its meaning as sleep finally found you, pulling you into its gentle arms while visions of Dabi filled your dreams. __________________________________________________________________

Part 7

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Taglist (always open!): @lemonfvck @vs-redemption @inanabsentia @sheedaabee @toshiuwuu @marydragneell @chillinwithmybakubros @genuinelytodorokisbitch @sam-i-am-1025 @redflannel @axerrri @necccomancy @miadraws0 @hot-pocket01 @hopelessdisasterr @dummythiccwitch @villainsdeku @aquzairus @officialtrashbusiness @hemdem018 @purplesweethart @doebopeepeebbod @ghost-of-todoroki @marvel-philosophy @lysawayne @udontneedtokno @citrussaurus @littleladdty @starsforannie @zunmie @mae-rd @mrsreina @ohh-takuuu @ih8beefnoodles @kellyyween @jojoniles @steale24

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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years ago

Text

Witness Protection (Part 4)

Summary: You had no choice, it was time to leave

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x y/n

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: Hope it’s not excessively cheesy, I drank some rosé and my emotions got the better of me

---

Nat appeared in the doorway. 'You ready?'

'Not really.' You half joked, forcing a feeble smile through your tears. 'Is it too late to opt out?'

She slowly walked over and sat next to you on the bed, giving you a sympathetic grimace. It was reassuring to see that her cold hostility had faded, so you let yourself enjoy her comforting presence for a second. It almost felt like you could be back in the coffee shop, gossiping and laughing at the state of each other.

Her voice quickly pulled you away from your fantasy.

'This is my fault. I shouldn't have got you involved, should've stayed away.'

Half of you still felt betrayed and blinded by anger, felt it would be justified to just allow her to take the blame, but you knew that wasn’t fair. Of course she didn’t intend for you to end up in this situation, she just never considered the risk she was taking when she introduced you to Bucky.

'You hardly forced my tongue down his throat.'

'True.' She leaned closer to you with a smile. 'I just figured you'd do it yourself eventually.'

You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your head in her neck. Feeling her arm hug your shoulders as you screwed your eyes tight shut, you tried to hold on to that moment. You figured it’d be a long time until you felt safe like that again.

After a few seconds you sat back up, took a deep breath and steadied yourself.

'I'm ready.’

---

Bucky was already in the car. No words were exchanged as you climbed into the passenger seat. You had nothing to say to him, and he was acutely aware that anything he said could unintentionally push you over the edge.

The compound fell into the distance as he sped away.

Hours passed and your mind wandered. You thought of your flat and Sharon, realising that you’d never even asked Nat if she was alright or if she got out of the party safely.

You thought of home and everything you’d willingly left behind when you moved to the city. Things you’d once grown so tired of, now you’d give anything to get back to them.

You thought of your parents and how worried they were about you leaving. You wondered, if you were found by the people hunting you, would they ever be told the truth? You pictured your mother, being told that you were gone, the utter despair in her eyes as she-

'Stop the car.' Bucky jumped at the abrupt end to the silence, looking over as you braced yourself against the dashboard.

'Huh?'

'Stop the car.’ You demanded, much louder. ‘I'm gonna throw up.'

He quickly pulled over, increasingly concerned at your appearance. You yanked the handle and burst out of the car, sprinting away from the road. You couldn’t shake that image of your mother. Your eyes were stinging but you felt like you had no tears left, your stomach felt like it was going to burst.

Falling to your knees and heaving violently, you realised that you hadn’t eaten anything since before the party. It felt like there was something inside you that needed to be gotten rid of, but nothing was coming up. After a few seconds it eased, and you just felt empty.

'Shit y/n are you alright?' Bucky ran to you and put his hand on your back.

His touch immediately caused your muscles to tense and you lashed out, violently shoving him away with a growl. The two of you were still for a second. He stood over you, gazing intently at your face as you tried to decide what to do next.

The hate slowly faded from your eyes before you crumpled, curled up in a ball and just hoped the earth would swallow you.

He cautiously knelt down, testing every movement to ensure you were comfortable, and placed a hand softly on your shoulder. He knew he was the last person you wanted there, but he also saw that you were in no fit state to deal with what you were feeling on your own.

‘I know you hate me.' His mouth was dry as he struggled to form the words you needed to hear. 'I'll never forgive myself for what’s happened to you. But please, let me help you now.’

You nodded feebly, allowing him to pull you up onto your feet. Moving back to properly check you over, he put his hands on your shoulders and held you firmly in place.

'Look at me.' He ordered. Your eyes met his. Those incredible blue eyes you'd have fallen into in a heartbeat less than a day earlier. 'It's gonna be alright. I promise.'

You didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. This beautiful, infuriating man in front of you was your life for the foreseeable future, and it was time to accept it.

You fell into him, desperate for any kind of reassuring contact. He caught you in his arms and held you tight to his chest, feeling the tension melt from your muscles the longer he kept you there.

When you eventually returned to the car, the two of you were silent again, but it was a different kind of silence. This time, there was no undercurrent of bitterness and resentment. It was comfortable. You were comfortable.

You drove for a few more hours, briefly stopping at a gas station where you wolfed down a burrito while Bucky watched in amusement. Afterwards, you decided it was probably a good idea to try and find out more about the man you were stuck with.

'So, what do I need to know? Anything else you've kept from me?'

He suddenly looked a bit antsy, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and clenching his jaw.

'There’s… a couple things.'

'Great. Let me guess, you actually were born in 1944?'

'No, I wasn’t.' He hesitated and quickly glanced over at you. '1917.'

You paused, feeling like your brain was buffering. 'I beg your fucking pardon?'

'There's something else.' He took his right hand off the wheel and used it to pull the glove off his left.

It was… metal? Or at least it looked metal. Not like any kind of prosthetic you’d ever seen before- it moved just like a normal hand would.

'Alright, we'll deal with that' you gestured at his silver hand 'in a damn minute. So you're, what, 103?'

'Mhmm.'

'Fuck me.’ You rubbed your forehead. ‘I made out with a pensioner.' He laughed, causing you to give an involuntary chuckle, despite still being swamped in complete disbelief.

As he explained his age and his arm, you just gazed at him in complete awe. After hearing everything he’d been through, you found it increasingly difficult to hold his behaviour against him- if you’d barely had any human contact for over sixty years you probably wouldn’t be able to hold back either.

‘I guess I’m flattered.’ You added after he’d finished.

‘Yeah? Why’s that?’

‘Well the last time you made out with someone you probably had a ration book in your back pocket.’ He squinted as if he was trying to remember. You added, with playful sarcasm, ‘I’m honoured to be your first conquest of the 21st century.’

---

The 'safe house' you’d been sent to turned out to be a tiny cabin in the middle of absolutely nowhere, surrounded by ungodly amounts of snow. You were still in the sweats Tony had given you and the only shoes you had were slides. What a joke.

Thankfully, Bucky offered to give you a piggyback to the door.

Your first impression of the place wasn’t terrible, but it was certainly basic. Small kitchen, one sofa, fireplace, TV and what looked like a bedroom in the back. You assumed the bathroom was attached to the bedroom- you were aware that bears shit in the woods but you certainly fucking wouldn't.

There was a door that led down some stairs into a cramped basement, which was set up as a gym. You guessed that was where your training would happen.

When you came back up, your new housemate was already trying to get a fire going. You watched as the smouldering logs ignited in front of him, bouncing warm light off his jawline and highlighting the hills and valleys of his muscular arms. He heard you approaching and shot you a wide smile.

Maybe you could feel safe with Bucky.

---

Part Five

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@zizzlekwum @calwitch @shower-me-with-roses @supernaturalwintersoldier

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#bucky fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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pleom · 5 years ago

Text

swimmer!bang chan [M]

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions and descriptions of depression, emotional abuse, family issues, graphic descriptions of sexual content (cunnilingus, unprotected sex, handjobs, loss of virginity)

Word Count: 8.7k

Something inside you burns. It throbs and pummels against you from the inside-out, wholly unwelcoming, though you wouldn’t say you suffer. You wouldn’t say it’s painful, either. This feeling engulfs you, blending with your senses and the way they interact with each other. Physically, you’d say it’s another part of the experience. Coupled with the vibrations (dull and wide-spaced,) the muffled sounds, the incessant screeching and tapping and cramping and pulling and—

You gasp for breath—a whistle blows—and you can’t swim.

“Y/N, out,” your coach motions for you.

The students around you move hesitantly, but ultimately part for you to exit. Your vision is still blurry, but you manage to pull yourself up the ladder without slipping. You slip on the way to the locker room though, and embarrassedly throw yourself behind the door and onto a bench without abandon.

Your eyes sting, and are probably more red than they usually are after practice. Your skin grays and itches as it slowly dries, so you take a towel to assist both matters. When the only thing keeping your body from fully shrugging off the remaining water is what slides off the tips of your hair, you fling the cloth over your head and sit there, slouched and effectively closing out the rest of the world.

The moments of before are already starting to feel fake—a blur of imagined happenings. The only thing you can clearly recall is your errors, constant and public for all to see (and they did, they most definitely did.) Your lungs cry with the remnants of salt and bleach, and your chest burns with discontent. Discontent that you almost drowned; discontent that your coach didn’t let you drown. (You’ll also be hearing that from your sister later on, when you’ll come home probably coughing and aching, and you can see it already: her prideful and mocking gestures, her feigning concern and doubting your abilities. You sit here, chest gaping, and you know you’ll have no argument against her. She was born with knowledge you had yet to achieve.)

A voice makes you jump. “Are you okay?”

You hope with every fiber of your being you aren’t the person who the question is being directed to. You let it fly over your head, and rub the fabric over your hair to look inconspicuous. Wet footsteps seem to bound straight for you, and in what feels like a second, a shadow peeks from underneath your towel. There’s no use acting like you’re no one, because someone’s standing right before you and seems dead-set on getting you to interact with them.

“Hey.”

Lifting your head, you take in the sight of Chan, all broad-shouldered and pale-skinned to the point you might blame the chemicals in the pool for it. He stands shirtless, though as dry as your throat feels. His class must be after yours.

He doesn’t know you (though you know of him) and it’s clear on his face. Why he bothers to question you, you don’t know. You shouldn’t look that out of place, since a few students like to hide and hang out in the locker rooms alone sometimes. Guess you couldn’t pass off as one of them.

“You don’t look so good,” he says, “Was Coach hard on you? I always tell Dad to go easy on the new swimmers but he never does…”

He sheepishly wrings his towel over his shoulder. It takes you a moment to absorb his words, but when you do, you’re quick to react.

“No, no he doesn’t,” you hesitate, “How did you know I was new here?”

“I come here almost every day to help my dad mentor the students. ‘Think I’d recognize a face like yours.” he takes a step back and seems to take in the look of you. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but you shuffle in your seat nonetheless. “Did you just transfer?”

You wince at the question and shake your head. You’re too embarrassed to reveal that you have been enrolled since the start, which for sure would make the air between you even more awkward. You quickly flip the conversation to be less you-focused. “So, you help your dad train the students? You must be under a lot of pressure.”

The coach is pretty ruthless. Every interaction with him leaves your skin feeling prickly; every command and scold, his directions, and even his praises—superficial amidst a deeper frustration. You can imagine an inkling of what he must be around his own son, if he’s anything like your own parents.

Chan tilts his head as if in deep consideration, but ultimately shrugs. He takes you by surprise when he breaks into a slight smile. “No, not really. I’m just here to help, as long as someone succeeds at something new, we mark that as a win in our books. Pressuring anyone helps no one.”

You eye the entrance to the pool. His words don’t really match up to your experiences, and you feel a slight jealousy for those who wound up so lucky. Maybe it’s because you’re a late bloomer, if you can even call it that. His father must’ve been shocked at seeing a girl your age floundering at what most have already nailed down.

“It must be nice having a professional help lead you down their path, the only reason why I took this class is so I could finally have a useful skill under my belt,” you can’t help yourself from rambling, so you shut your lips tight once you realize you’ve nearly thrown a pity party for yourself. Cautiously, you glance at Chan and hope he’s been distracted by one thing or another, or grew bored of you once you opened your mouth. Neither seem to be the case, though he looks at you with mild astonishment.

He motions for you to give him your name, and you do, reluctantly, cautiously, as though you’re making a deal that you can’t take back. When you do, he grins with a face of understanding and gives you his hand to shake. This all feels entirely foreign, disconcerting, and you can’t tell if the wetness between your fingers is nervous sweat or remnants of the pool. You have no time to think about it, because you separate when another whistle blows and students begin to file into the locker room.

Chan’s already left with a grin and a wave, and you’re left tugging on your school clothes with your heart beating waves of fire.

Chan has been on your mind ever since, though that is not exactly a feat. You tend to overthink and hyperfocus on the inane—it’s a fault your family has never let you forget. It’s what brings you to the situation at hand right now.

You come home late, after spending your time at the nearby café to sort out your school work. What you forgot to do was sort out your emotions (crucial mistake) and immediately your mother is hounding your every move. You make a snide comment, under your breath, about the state of the house: it feeds you more despair than actual food.

It ends there.

A snap here, a threat there, and you wish you had left as soon as you came. Your house’s front door slams shut behind you and you swallow that hard lump in your throat the best you can. Here, you’re so focused on that insignificant little action, one of pain and only pride, that you miss the tears and the ringing in your ears and it’s all useless. You’re useless.

The sleeves on your shirt have grown damp from all the wiping, and a thought comes: why not get it all wet? You’re already a hose of emotions, and your mother will yell at your weaknesses; the uncontrollable. Giving her a proper reason to scream seems sensible. Maybe you should empower yourself before she can impose her power on you.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you stride towards the school and mentally rummage through different ways of justifying your actions. Who cares if they don’t make sense?

You don’t.

The school pool’s entrance is surprisingly easy to get through. The inside feels especially hollow without the fuss of your classmates and coach. Every step carries its own reverb, and you momentarily hold your breath in case it does, too. But even so, the emptiness of the pool has a strange serenity to it. You bathe in it wholly.

You can’t bathe for too long, so you kick off your shoes and get right to it. You toe the edge of the pool and examine its reflections. You keep your eyes off yourself, only tracing along the ceiling lights and the stars spotted from the window. When the moon starts slowly inching into the view, you plunge.

The water whirls around you in both a menacing and tantalizing way. It plugs all of your senses and you let it. It soothes; it stings. And when you start feeling lightheaded, you resurface.

It takes a while for the blur to leave your eyes and the pounding to leave your ears. However, even with all this sensory overload, you feel blithe, and a full-belly laugh escapes you before you can stop it. You don’t want it to. This is the happiest you’ve felt in months.

Just as quickly, it ends. Abruptly, because someone has made themselves known with a loud clang. It rings from the locker room, and before you can pull yourself out of the water and hide, the door swings open and reveals—

Chan.

He’s already down to his swimwear, and looks unsurprised by your presence here. In fact, he looks somewhat pleased. “You’ve started without me.”

You’re a bit too stunned to respond, and the position of you both suddenly starts weighing on you. You’re on school grounds, way past its lockdown. The dip in the pool has definitely cleared your mind some, and you know now that what you are doing is trespassing. Maybe alone, you could’ve learned to reprimand yourself for doing so, swear to never do it again. But here you are, and there’s a witness.

Chan chuckles, clearly not running through the same thoughts in his own head. Instead, he walks over to your side and kneels, extending his hand. “Need some help?”

You can’t bring it in yourself to argue, so you take his hand and let him pull you out. You collapse very sloppily onto the tiles, the weight of your soaked clothes dragging you down. There’s silence. Your heartbeat slows once you realize Chan’s not intending on pulling any tricks. (At least you hope.)

“I won’t tell,” Chan eases your thoughts, “as long as you tell me the reason why you’re here.”

Despite saying this, there’s no urgency or force behind his words. You don’t feel pressured to answer, so you pay no mind when you do. “Wanted some time alone for myself and this was the closest thing in mind.”

“Did you know the door to the pool would be open?”

“No, not at all.”

Chan hums. He doesn’t seem suspicious of you. He doesn’t question you after that. Instead, he takes a couple steps back, “Well… if that’s all…”

He races forward and dives into the water, splashing your legs in the process. He disappears for a moment, then breaks the surface into a breastroke. He moves languidly, though sharp enough to slice straight through the liquid.

It’s a harsh contrast to you. You start to feel uncomfortable and misplaced now that the son of your coach displays his skill. Imagining yourself in his spot feels daunting, and you have to fight your instincts to just grab your shoes and run.

Back home.

The thought makes you shiver.

“Hey,” Chan floats up to you on his back. “You wanted swimming lessons, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” You’re nervous to see where this is going.

He smiles. “So hop in.”

Your parents didn’t question why you came home late that night. Nor why your clothes were mildly wet. Your sister gave her routine insult–slash–brag and was on her way. You certainly didn’t complain, now that you were left to your own devices, and on it the screen pings with a new message, one from Chan, whose contact you have yet to save.

You stay up all night responding to his texts.

When the next day comes, your loneliness hits harder than usual. You had forgotten what it was like interacting with people for a period of time longer than the length of class. You find yourself looking over your shoulder more often for a glimpse of Chan, even while swimming. And surprisingly, you don’t get yelled at by the coach for being so sidetracked. You’ve accumulated more praises, though you still sense it’s from a place of pitiful obligation.

You come home earlier than usual.

“So you’ve just given up on your education now, huh?”

“What?”

Your head snaps up at your mother’s voice. She stands as volatile as ever, hands splayed over her hips. The house smells flowery; she’s making her special rose petal flan—something she only does as a treat for herself, when things for her are going exceptionally well. These days come rare but welcomed, because usually then she’s as sensitive and motherly as one can be.

Yet today is the total opposite. And you get an inkling as to why: your English test sheet, laid on the kitchen counter.

You wince. Of course she had snooped through your room and saw your failure peeking through your garbage bin.

“I gave you so many chances, so many chances, let you drop out of math for God’s sake! And this is how you repay me? Failing your tests and coming home early? Did you even go to the library today? Have you ever studied in your entire life?!”

Your mom shows no sign of ever stopping her tirade. Her neck seems to have grown redder by the second. Your sister arrives just in time to catch the next part, no doubt excited to have her ego fed as per usual.

“We’ve moved cities, exchanged schools, and transferred jobs, just so you could have the opportunity your sister had. Do you think life was easy for her when we all lived in that garbage bin we called an apartment? Do you think she let that dissuade her from acing her studies and receiving that scholarship?” Your mother points at your sister then, and the looks on both of their faces hit you with two different senses of shame, both equally strong. “Are you honestly willing to undo all of your sister’s hard work? This is how you want to end your senior year? This is how you planned to enter adulthood?”

And with that she takes your paper and shreds it. She leaves you for the living room, sparing not one glance at the way your lips tremble and eyes glisten. It hurts, but in a way, you’re glad she doesn’t notice. It’d only stack another disappointment onto that pile she holds. Your sister’s grown bored of looking at you too, and trots off behind your mother.

Despite your blues, the sun is still up. So you exit the front door and sit on the steps. You wish you had it in you to fight back, no matter how disastrous that might end out to be. Because what your mother doesn’t realize is that it all piles up. You never asked to move to a new city, this late into high school. Everyone’s already bound and wound tight around each others’ fingers—friends, best friends, lovers, all things you’ve rarely experienced due to your momentary presence. You have your acquaintances, those who you would probably refer to as ‘friends,’ but they’re surface-level at best, not people you could ever rely on.

But that’s all she thinks you’re good for: never achieving, or attaining, or accomplishing, only to ever rely on others.

Impulsively, you pull out your cell phone and reach out to the only person nearby that you can.

TO: BANG CHAN

Just had an argument with my mom :(

Not feeling good…

FROM: BANG CHAN

Oh, no :(( are you okay?

Wanna come over and swim? Help clear your head?

The pool doors are open

Legally, this time :p

The slightest grin stretches over your face.

“And that’s how you do a butterfly stroke,”

The other kids of this program have begun to slowly disperse. They’re all younger—freshmen, probably—that make you want to douse your head in shame. The worst part of it all is that Chan isn’t even teaching them, they’ve all learned how to do the basic swimming strokes, and it makes it all the more obvious how lacking you are.

Chan had tried to placate you and tell you that most students aren’t paying attention to your mistakes, but you’re pretty sure that you saw one kid giggle when you came up for air.

As afternoon blends into evening, the lights indoors begin to feel more artificial. Chan pulls you over to a bench once most of the kids have gone home. This is when the awkwardness starts settling in.

“You should come here more often if you’re so worried about your skills, which, by the way, aren’t as bad as you think they are. No one is looking at you funny because of it.”

He pats you amiably on the shoulder. You shrug.

“I’ve already got too much on my plate. I usually go straight to the library to start on my homework. By the time I finish, it’s dinner time and I’ve got to make the switch over to the cafe to finish up my studies. An after-school swimming program can remain an afterthought, sorry,”

“Geez, no wonder I’ve never seen you walking around during class,” he gasps, “you’re up to your neck in work!”

“Yep,” you sigh. “Doesn’t even seem like it’s paying off.”

“How so?”

“My IQ is in the negatives,”

Chan jolts up as though he’s been caught asking an insensitive question, but just as quickly melts into himself. He gently slaps a hand on your arm, giggling. “No, it’s not! But for real, though…”

“I wasn’t lying,” you say, “Hours in the library, and yet I still fail.”

“It happens to the best of us, sometimes,”

“Sometimes being the key word,” you insist. “This isn’t sometimes.”

Chan is silent for a moment. “Be easy on yourself, it’s senior year, you’re allowed to make mistakes.”

You’re tempted to say ‘No, I’m not allowed. I have never been allowed. I’ve been perpetually skidding along thin ice,’ but you swallow it.

“Ok but,” you start, slowly and cheekily. “I’ve yet to see you make a single mistake in the pool. What is it going to take to make the Great Bang Chan, son of an actual professional athlete, screw up?”

“If my friends got here,” he says with a smile. “They’ve always got tricks up their sleeves. Some that they can probably teach you.”

“They swim as well?”

“Yep, but definitely not as good as me as you might’ve guessed,” he jokingly flexes, laughing. Then he sobers. “They’re coming later, if that’s okay with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay with me?” You ask, but you’re already getting up to make yourself more presentable for their arrival. “That means more tutors for me.” And more judges.

There’s a moment of pleasant solitude between you and Chan before his friends trickle in. They enter in small enough numbers that it gives you time to familiarize yourself with them.

Seungmin came the earliest, the most diligent of the crew. He spoke gently and swam even softer. Felix and Jeongin toed after him, and flung water with utmost chaos. Others came and you observed, much too shy to delve into the same antics they toyed in. At times, Chan would climb out and chill with you, prompting the others to take a break and chat alongside. It all mended into a blur as the sky grew purple.

Over the days, you find the presence of Chan’s friends comforting. They’re friendly—obviously—with lighthearted races and pool tricks. They give you an experience you’ve been deprived of since you moved. They’ve taught you well, surprisingly. And it must have also come as a shock to your coach.

He approaches you one afternoon after class ends.

“Y/N, you were amazing out there,” he says. “Haven’t seen an improvement that big in a long while.”

Something about his statement rubs wrong on you. You take a step back, guarded.

“Thank you,” you say, making sure to send a polite smile his way. “Swimming has started to become more fun as the days go by. Really grateful to have made the exchange over here.”

“I’m glad as well. Honestly, I was a bit worried when you enrolled a bit late into this class. Have to keep the students all on the same page, and it’s hard to split the attention,” he sets a hand over your shoulder. “But it seems like you’ll be on the same level as the others in no time! Keep up the good work!”

And like that, your suspicions have been confirmed. Your stomach drops when he leaves, and you mentally beat yourself up for thinking you were in any way competent. A pity-compliment, that’s all that was. That’s all it ever is.

Chan rushes into the locker room and quickly changes into his swimwear. When he sees you, he smiles, pauses to wrap you up into a hug, and is out in the pool in no time. His father watches him from the sidelines fondly, with an expression that clearly holds pride and amazement.

You wonder if you will ever get that kind of look from your parents. Or anyone, for that matter.

That question is still up in the air, weeks later, when your sister intrudes on your swimming class one morning. She doesn’t interrupt or anything. She just quietly stands by the pool’s entrance and watches. You see her eyes trail over the other students and slowly back to you, making silent observations, none of them kind.

When you climb out and class is over, she pulls you to the side. She takes a moment to look you over. “So this is what you’ve picked up since you came here. Impressive.”

“Well, yeah,” you say, and try to move hurriedly to the locker room to escape her. She takes you by the arm, demanding. You struggle shoving her off. “I also need to pick up my books for next class, if you’ll excu—”

“Oh, you don’t have any class to go to right now,” she snaps. “I’ve called. You’re coming home with me for now.”

You freeze, and with satisfaction, your sister drops your arm. “Why?”

“It’s an emergency, one I thought you should know,” a small smile spreads across her lips, and your heart sinks. It can’t be a family emergency, right? Or else she’d be more panicked, right? But if it’s not, what can be so urgent that your sister would have to pick you up from school so early? “Just grab what you need for now so we can go.”

Hesitantly, you nod your head and follow her orders. When you are sat inside her car, you wait for her to disclose any information related to your early departure. She doesn’t feed your curiosity then, only drives slowly and silently down the road to your house. She makes a detour, picks a route that’s longer than your usual, and finally breaks the silence.

“You know how my scholarship gave our Mom a better opportunity at finding a job, right?” It’s a simple question, but set up dangerously and your sweat kicks in as you nod. “And since Dad isn’t the only one working anymore, we’ve got more money to spend, right?”

Right. This is a big jump from the past, when your father only made enough to cover the expenses of the bills and a few groceries. Your mother was met with job rejections left and right, and neither you nor your sister had the time or management to juggle grades as well as employment. At that time, your mother insisted that you focus more on school. She made promises that if one of you hit big, that would be enough of a reward for her. That all her stress and burdens would be paid off. You suppose it half came true. Financially, you were all rewarded.

But rather, all her stress and burdens were pushed in a different direction. You wonder what it’s like to be on the opposite side. You eye your sister, and nod your head to continue.

“So, initially, her plan was to save up to help you out once you graduated. Of course, she knew this was necessary, since there’s no way in hell you’d strike a full scholarship with, you know,” she throws you a sidelong glance, batting her eyelashes. Your hand tightens around your seatbelt. “But she realized, even with a new and improved environment, that your current habits probably wouldn’t strike you one at all. She was forgiving at first. Thought about paying half your tuition and taking a loan for the other. Welp. Then you dropped pre-calculus for swimming and made her rethink her life choices all over again. Good job!”

“Sis,” you hiss, “what does that mean?”

You can’t handle her bullshitting right now. Though you know she has all the time in the world for it. Your surroundings have begun to look unfamiliar, and the anxiety inside you strikes. That’s probably the effect she was going for.

“It means you’re fucked,” she lets out a loud laugh, “you’re not getting any help from her. Or Dad for that matter. Better start counting your pennies, sis!”

And just like that, the tightening in your chest explodes. You feel as though you’re suffocating, each intake of breath amounting to none. Your body grows hotter and you’re wracked with shivers, and stuck inside the cramped space of your sister’s car leaves you no space to handle your panic attack.

You’re overwhelmed by the thoughts of what’s to come. Getting into college—now a complete uncertainty—just to be lost in debt, and there’s nothing to do about it. You lack life experience. You’ve been holed up and relying on the bare minimum to get you by. The only moment you have been able to hold your head above the water, and your own family has dunked you back underneath. You’re struggling to win a sabotaged race.

“By the way, don’t tell Mom I told you,” your sister says, now pulling into your driveway. She chatters in a low voice, as if she doesn’t want the world to listen in on your conversation. “It’s our little secret. Just like how it was mine and hers.”

You find yourself not coming home at night. Where you stay is just about as much of a mystery to them as it is to you. You’ve huddled yourself in the locker rooms some nights, using sheets and water bottles as cushions. You’ve cornered yourself in classrooms. Hell, you’ve even holed yourself up in your family’s car, in the backseat, on the floor so that onlookers can’t peep and tattle your nightly whereabouts to your family (What a disgrace that would’ve been). But you’ve always made sure to come back home at the lick of dawn, just before the rest of them would get up and bang down your door looking for answers to ‘where’ve you been last night?’ and ‘what time did you get home?’ and you’d answer ‘the park’ or ‘friend’s’ or ‘convenience store,’ and ‘at midnight.’ Just late enough for it to be believable. No one’s ever up that late, and if one were, they’d probably be tired or drunk off their ass to notice your absence. No one’s ever called your bluff, a heartbreaking realization that you’ve come to appreciate.

Chan, though, walks into the pool at just the wrong time. You’ve just gotten used to the stench of bleach and chlorine when he nudges you awake on your makeshift bed of thin sheets and soaked homework paper. You dash up, searching and grabbing for your phone to check your alarms (How did you miss it? Was it on silent? A dead battery?). Chan chuckles as if your panic is the funniest thing he has ever seen.

“You’re fine, school’s not open till another hour and a half,” he picks up on your confusion. It seems to settle into his own features. He’s got swim trunks on, and a towel slung over his shoulder. From the corner of your eye, you note the darkness of a not-yet-risen sun. “I just decided to come in early for quick practice.”

An awkward pause and an understanding nod to himself later, he kneels. “Hey. What are you doing on the floor here?”

His eyebrows knit and his worry looks even more pronounced in this dark blue reflection of… life. How pitiful you must look. He’s probably wondering if you’re that dirt-poor, that sleeping on tile might be considered a luxury to you. But even so, you can’t bother to be embarrassed by yourself at the moment. He’s pulled you out of the comfort of unconsciousness, so now you’re fighting your natural reactions to the biting cold and solid ground.

It hurts. You’re sore and your face is blue and all you can think about is crying. It hurts that your options are either this or your home, and the fact that you chose this.

“I’m fine,” you nod meekly, “Just…napping,”

Too overwhelmed to map out a convincing lie, you prepare yourself for the defenses. This is going to sting Chan and you are sure going to regret it later, but fuck it. You’ll deal with the consequences once you’ve showered under hot water and mulled it over at breakfast.

Chan reaches for your shoulder, palm warm, and helps you sit up. “Why are you napping on the floor?”

“Because if I nap in the pool, I’ll drown.”

Chan almost cracks, and you consider that a victory. But he just as quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, one hand laying over your own. “Don’t joke about stuff like that. I’m serious. Are you okay? Did…something happen at home, again?”

Something’s always happening at home, and that’s the part that drives you nuts. Your old friends can handle you complaining about spontaneous spats with your sister every once in a while, but would go madder than you if they heard every single crisis that went down behind your walls. You have to bite and swallow every time.

You shake your head. “I tried swimming last night. It went about how’d you expect, and I knocked out on the floor immediately after. Not sure how you can do it, Chan. Honestly, everyday I respect you a little more.”

He chuckles, arm tightening around you for a pulse. “No one’s born a pro. And I promise you, you’re on your way to becoming one.”

You feel as though you’re on your way to becoming no one. You try to voice this as inconspicuous as possible.

“What if you disappoint someone because you’re not there yet?” you ask, “What if they wanted you to be a pro since the very beginning, and because you’re nowhere close, they end up mad?”

“Who’s mad? If it’s about my dad, I promise you he’s not—”

“No, it’s not him.Forget it.”

“Is it—” he inhales, “Is—Is your family upset? Is that why you’re here?”

You don’t respond. It’s enough of an answer.

“I’m not sure what they said to you, but just know they’re wrong. We all improve at our own pace, and we’re not better or worse for it. You need to give yourself patience, ignore them, just—”

“Chan, I can’t ignore them,” you snap. You pull yourself from Chan’s embrace and bury your face into your knees. Your eyes burn as the emotions take over you. It doesn’t hurt less as time goes on. “They make my life a living hell and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t know how to do anything. I’m the very definition of useless, and the worst part is that they all know, but no one helps. I can’t leave them or else I’ll just end up… here.”

Sobs start to wrack through you, and you can’t do anything to stop it. You’re tired of wallowing in self-pity, in others’ pity, but you’re at a loss for what to do. You wish you weren’t an adult with the tendencies of a child, only there for others to look after. No one’s taught you what it takes for that transition to happen, to grow independant, to discover skills and utilize them. They’ve just thrown you in the deep end and disregarded you when you drowned. You wish you weren’t so helpless. You wish you had some help.

“I wish I knew what to say,” Chan murmurs. He’s wrapped his arms around his knees and seems to gaze into the pool. Every once in a while, he passes you a glance, but ultimately, he leaves you to yourself.

The sun has slowly started to rise, and the birds have begun to chirp. That’s your cue to get out of here, though even now you’re running behind schedule. Your eyes sting and you hope your walk back home is enough to soothe them back to normal.

Chan stands up when you do, and quickly interrupts you by the doorway. His face is sullen, concave, and heavy as though he bears the same amount of burdens that you do. Who’s to say he doesn’t?

“Just… We’ll figure this out, okay? Together.” He meets your eyes. “I’ll wait at the pool for you. As soon as they start acting up, come here immediately. Don’t let their words intimidate you.”

“Okay,” just when you think this conversation’s done, he pauses you again. A beat passes. Several. And then he leans in—

His lips press against yours, soft and warm, and are off in an instant. You don’t have enough time to savor the feeling.

He smiles and says, “I don’t want you to be in any danger, whether that be at home or otherwise, okay?”

You smile. An unnamed pressure lifts from your shoulders. “Okay.”

You feel a bit guilty, keeping Chan out of his own home during the nights and mornings. You have to fight to reassure yourself that this is out of his own volition. He certainly doesn’t seem bothered when he spots you on your way to the pool’s entrance. And he’s found ways to help the time pass faster. Be it games, studying, or making out.

Yep, he’s introduced a new activity to you, though you can’t really complain. But it doesn’t change the fact that the pool’s tile and linoleum, all cold and hard, is not meant for a person to sleep on. You’ve started checking the other for bruises and marks that could be left behind in your wakes, literally.

Over time, it’s become a routine. A sad one; one that shouldn’t be necessary, but you force yourself to think of it in a positive light. That’s also something he’s been teaching you while you stay: how to manage your inner thoughts, how to turn those demons into angels, even when the devil is really, really trying you. It’s helped ease your wounds, and you avoid your family enough for them to not reopen them.

Finally, that’s his last lesson. Family is both permanent and temporary, and you’d be glad to know that the permanent ones are those you keep, and hold tight, and never ought to lose. While temporary family could always be cut off, and should be, because what’s the point of family if they won’t be there for you all the time? He’s made sure to look you deep in your eyes when he said this, voice clear and low, and just a bit unsteady. You take your time digesting that one.

You’ve got trouble with your family, and one night, after more than a week’s passed, you get into trouble with someone else’s.

You had arrived at the pool a tad bit early, you supposed, and had already laid out all your blankets and card games when the entrance clanged open. You were about to reveal a new game you’d discover online to Chan, only to be met with a voice much deeper than his.

“Y/N.”

Your head snaps up and immediately blood rushes to your ears. Coach dangles a set of keys in his hand, and seems–rightly–surprised at your appearance. But you can see the moment he understood what he saw. A person’s pity can only extend so much, and you know exactly where yours lies.

You don’t even have to wince.

School break has just started, and of course you’re grounded.

On one hand, you’re happy you don’t have to face your coach after being caught trespassing. His face held a look of rage and disappointment, and you don’t want to witness that any more than you have to. The resemblance between him and Chan are uncanny.

But you’re home. That doesn’t spell out comfort for you at all.

You and Chan send messages back and forth to each other consisting of “i miss you”s and “sorry that happened”s. You rant to him about how fed up you’ve been, and you feel relieved for the first time in a long while, because finally, someone is there to listen, judgement-free. Chan suggests sneaking into your house for the night a couple of times to see each other, but you reject, saying that your mother’s too eagle-eyed for that to happen.

Once break is over and school is back open, your family keeps their eyes locked on you like a hawk. You no longer can stop by the library for homework or studying, instead they demand you return back home immediately once school’s over. Your father insists on helping you study instead, and although you know it’s not out of the pure kindness of his heart, you accept it for the time being.

Swim class is awkward, now that both you and Coach Bang have to pretend to not have gone through that whole ordeal. But you can feel his gaze linger on you when you plunge underwater. You have no idea what he thinks of you now, after all this, and you’re too embarrassed to ask Chan.

One day, Chan approaches you before swim class begins.

“Mind if I take you out for a bit?” He asks. You slyly look at the clock ticking away by the door to the pool. You have just about a minute. Only a minute to get ready. “It’ll only be for a quick moment. You’ll be back in no time and if you don’t, I’ll cover for you.”

You squint suspiciously at Chan. “What’s this about?”

“A surprise. One my father will absolutely understand.”

When it puts it like that…

It’s a quick ride to where Chan ends up taking you: a bizarre little creek tucked behind several neighborhood houses. Its water runs fresh, uncontaminated by human interaction, feeding into the thick brushes of land and trees. It’s a beautiful sight indeed, but wholly inconsequential. You look to Chan for a clue as to why he brought you here.

He seems lost in himself and nature. Slowly, he jumps over to the rocks and gazes into the creek’s depth. For a moment, you think he’s just brought you to admire the scenery, so you’re shocked out of your own stupor when he speaks. “My father used to bring me here when I was a child. He used to bring the whole family out for a swim.”

You hum and silently make your way closer to him. He still dashes from one stone to another, calm and in thought. “My earliest memories of training began here. It was the best, surrounded by natural sounds and protected by the rocks. It isn’t too deep, just about perfect for my height and age. Eventually we started coming here less and less as my Dad took up calls and schedules. We all grew older and busier, till we just abandoned it. But sometimes I come here when I need to give myself a break and really think.”

You’re brushed shoulder-to-shoulder together now. Your balance isn’t as good as Chan’s, and you end up slipping and stepping into the creek every other second. He happily keeps a hand near your waist and hoists you back up whenever needed.

“Do your neighbors ever come here?”

“They’ve got their own gardens to tend to,” he nods towards the houses. “No one other than me has come here in at least a decade.”

He eyes you as he says this. It’s his own little safe haven. And if he’s so sure that no one has snuck in yet, that means you’re the first to enter it.

The realization makes you bow your head, flustered. Chan hums satisfactory by your side. You both listen to the birds coo and the bugs chitter, soaking in nature’s creations. When Chan notices you finally getting a bit restless, he takes your hand and leads you to the rocks. Your legs slightly dip inside the creek, its water soaking through your clothes, but you don’t mind. It’s coldness is welcomed as the sun soars higher into the sky.

“Here’s not like the pool,” Chan says, fingers toying with the ends of your hair. “There’s no chance anyone will catch us here.”

The implication is not lost on you, especially with the way he looks into your eyes as he speaks. Incidents of the past come to mind, but they’re quickly replaced by thoughts of the future, such as: his lips on yours, your hands in his, and most importantly—

“I know,” you hastily respond, “I know.”

And the moment is clear. His lips are definitely on yours, and your hands are in his, but also on his; and over his arms; and grasping his shoulders. And most importantly, his body surrounds you and he’s hugging you to his chest. Your breath runs low, and you can’t tell if it’s because of his arms or his lips.

Either way, you embrace it all.

He leans you on the rocks. He’s grinding and you feel something…hard, brush against you. It fills you with heat, both subtle and scorching and when he presses that against you again, his hand slowly travelling down your body, you stiffen and pull back.

“Chan, I—” You gasp, “I’ve never done this before…ever… and—”

“Hey,” He says, “It’s fine. We can stop if you want to.”

And he pauses, slightly moving backwards to give you some air to breathe in. You listen to your heart beat in your chest, use that rhythm to help calm you down. Once it slows, you’re still hot as before, though it spreads from somewhere deep in you.

“It’s—,” you stutter, “I want to do this. Now.”

A knowing grin spreads across Chan’s face, and he gently lowers himself over you, settles a kiss, quick and harmless, on your lips, then pushes onward.

It’s rough and gentle all at the same time. Both overwheling and manageable. You’re up to your hips in water, having slid down the rocks, but you can feel that you’re wet for other reasons.

Chan pulls backs and mouths at your neck, fingers unfastening the buttons of your clothing and tossing them haphazardly. You’re pretty sure you hear a couple splashes as he does so. He kisses down your chest, your tummy, and then hooks his arms around your bottom and lifts you. He helps you back on the rocks and holds you in place as he focuses on you.

“Turn over,” he commands. He’s still standing within the creek itself, chest level with your waist. The request takes its time to settle in your mind. When it does, your face starts to burn, but you follow his order nonetheless.

Like this, you lay flat on your stomach on the grass and your legs swing over the rocks and into the creek. Chan softly tugs your pants down, just far enough to expose you. He delicately places his hands on your cheeks and spreads them. And—

Oh.

That’s his tongue. And he’s dragging it over you in a way that makes your toes curl. You tighten around nothing, not until he does you the favor of adding his fingers to the mix. He slides them into you easily, pumping them while his tongue does its work on your clit.

And now you’re clawing at the grass and dirt and rocks. You can feel yourself lightly kicking Chan in the chest and shoulders, but he only squeezes your hips back, invitingly.

Soon, you’re cumming around his fingers and can’t help yourself from slowly sliding down the rocks and into the creek. Chan does his best to soften your descent, then turns you around to face him. His face is glimmering with both your and the creek’s wetness, hair laid down by sweat, lips plump from how much they’ve been pressed against you, God he just looks so erotic and amazing like this that you tug him in for a kiss. You taste yourself (at least you think that’s you) and it’s not the most pleasant, but you don’t mind because he doesn’t mind.

“Do you…?” You breathlessly motion for his member. He grins and looks down at you as if you’ve just asked him a silly question. And similarly, he plants a light kiss on your nose before diving for your lips again.

“Next time, baby,” he says, “Right now I just wanna feel you.:”

So he pulls you flush against him, arms roaming around your body. When you’re both red-faced from kissing the lights off each other, he helps you climb out of the creek.

Neither of you are really thinking when you hit the ground, him on top of you and his length sliding over your folds. He’s teasing, but you’re too excited to hold off for any longer, so you wrap your arms around him and pull him chest-to-chest, crying with your impatience.

With a chuckle, he gives in, sinking into you. You’re surprised at how well you take it. He fills you up so nicely, so intensely. Each thrust sends you into another fit of heat, your core burning and tightening around him. Chan nuzzles his face in your shoulder, and with every pump of his hips, he teethes at the skin of your neck.

Every feeling is amplified when he’s folded around you like this, and as time runs out, another orgasm makes its way through your body. Chan groans appreciatively and leans on his arms to plant kisses all over your lips, face, and neck.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Let it all out. Let me feel you.”

You cry out when he abruptly pulls out. He kneels beside you and wraps a hand around his length, hastily jerking himself to completion.

You watch in entrancement, the way his face scrunches up, and the way his whole member and fist shines and you’ve suddenly got a craving to put your lips on his dick.

You hesitantly bring a hand over to it first, to test the waters. His movement stutters, then slows down once he realizes what you’re trying to do. You sit up and bring your other hand to his cock. Cautiously, you start to pump them.

“Don’t be scared,” Chan chuckles, “You can squeeze harder.”

Your grip tighten, but not too much, and you try again. Small, airy grunts fall from his lips. His hips start thrusting with your hands. You watch as the head of his cock disappears and reappears into his foreskin, shimmering with the mix of you and his pre-cum. It’s strangely appetizing.

You lean down to put you mouth on Chan’s dick without much thought. His hardness is cushioned by your lips, and his skin is silkier than you initially imagined. But it’s at this moment you realize you have no idea what to do.

You look up at Chan, and he groans at the sight of you at this angle. But then, a fond smile makes its way on his face and he lifts a hand to gingerly comb through your hair.

“It’s okay,” he laughs affectionately, “I’ll teach you another time. For now…”

He brings his hand back to his cock and finishes himself off. You deflate a bit, disappointed you weren’t able to give him his orgasms that he so desperately deserves, especially after getting you there twice. But he’s already on the ground alongside you, holding your face in the palm of his hands and pulling you into a loving smooch.

“That was amazing,” he moans, drawing out the loudest kiss sound from both of your lips. You both giggle in response. “I couldn’t be more happy you decided to give yourself to me.”

“Wasn’t planning on giving myself to anyone other,” you say. You climb on top of Chan, squealing as you try to indulge in the high-famed post-sex cuddles you’ve heard so much about. Chan squeezes you back with the brightest and most-dimpled grin you’ve ever seen.

Eventually, the mirth wears off, as the wind picks up and you’re immediately reminded that you’re both outdoors, off-campus one might say, but most definitely not on school grounds, when you absolutely should be.

You lay back, groaning when you check the time. Late. “My mom is going to kill me.”

It seems as though you can’t stop making mistakes and screwing your chances. The school year is almost ending and you feel like your life might end with it. You try to think more positively, but as the seconds tick by with neither of you racing back towards the school, the worse you feel.

Chan shuffles about. “Your mother isn’t going to kill you.”

“How would you know?”

He pauses; takes a moment to inhale.

“I told my dad about what’s going on at home, hope that wasn’t intrusive,” he says, and your heart stops. “He understands what you’re going through and regrets acting that way. He’s willing to take it all back. In fact, he says you’ve gotten so good at swimming lately, that he wants you to help mentor the kids. It’s a paid opportunity.”

His hand falls over yours. “I’m also seeking ways to get you away from there. My home’s got a guest bedroom, and I’ve been convincing my mom to clear it out.”

“You mean…”

“I do,” he says, “Some of us are not blessed with the most supporting families, and that’s okay. Because you have people that care for you, we care for you, I care for you, even if your family…cares for you a bit less.”

It hurts to hear him say it. Hurts even deeper to know it’s true. But the warmth in his gaze soothes you even just a little bit.

The dangers of going home is always a threat that hangs over your head, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned since meeting Chan, it’s that you don’t always have to go alone.

When the time is clear, when you’ve found support and built up confidence, you confront your family.

You tell them that you’ve had it. You no longer keep your whereabouts a secret, you no longer let them intrude on you anymore. You tell them that you’ve found a job, that you’re now able to support yourself from here-on-out. You are no longer financially, emotionally, or physically bound to them whether they like it or not. When you’re done, you don’t even stay to observe their reactions, though you can hear your sister snickering over your shoulder.

Chan’s there to give you a ride to his house, once you’ve packed up enough for a week. He says he’ll accompany again next time. Or maybe there won’t be a next time.

You are rewarded for what you have achieved, rather than what you can, and you can leave the past remnants behind and rediscover yourself in a new way, confidently.

I must salute smut writers, because every single time i’ve attempted to write smut I’ve struggled, ugh… but anyways………….

hope you guys liked this! if you made it this far, that is. ^^ this was edited by @jaeminlore who was really kind enough to do so!

#bang chan #stray kids #bang chan scenarios #bang chan smut #skz smut #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #.mine

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darriness · 5 years ago

Text

Klaine Fic - 3 on 1

Author: darriness

Word Count: 19352

Summary: What happens when triplets each find the potential love of their lives...in the same person?

Author’s Note: This author's note is a little long but I ask that you read it all :) Welcome to my story for the Glee Potluck Big Bang! I've had this story finished for a couple of months so I'm over the moon I'm getting a chance to post it a little early! The original idea for this fic came from a conversation I had with @ipwarn when I discovered that Darren Criss, Alex Brightman, and Henry Golding share the same birthdate. But, saying that, Blaine is still Blaine in this story (he's not Darren) and for Alex and Henry I used parts of their real life inspirations' general appearance as reference but they are completely made up characters. Most notably, and the reason I wanted to say anything, I know Henry Golding is actually Malaysian but Henry in my story is half Filipino. Lastly but definitely not least I would like to thank @imrights for the AMAZING title art above that I am completely obsessed with. And as always I would like to thank my fantastic beta @darrenismydarcy - I could not do any of this without you!! I hope all of the above makes sense! Enjoy the story! I, selfishly, love it a whole lot!

AO3 Link

3 on 1

What do you get when you mix an Asian banker with an Irish elementary school teacher?

Henry, Alexander, and Blaine Anderson.

That? Is Alex Anderson’s favourite joke to tell. It’s caused his brothers to roll their eyes more times then they can count but Alex still gets a kick out of it.

Now, Henry, Alex, and Blaine aren’t JUST brothers. I mean sure, looking at them you probably wouldn’t even be able to tell they share ANY genetic makeup. They are as different as different can be.

Henry towers over his brothers at just over six feet, for one. Blaine and Alex try to pass themselves off as five nine but...they’re five eight on a good day. Alex got all his features from his Irish mother. He’s as white as can be. Literally. His brown hair and brown eyes are the only things keeping him from being part of the Arian race…

Henry, on the other hand, is the spitting image of his Filipino father. His angular features, slightly slanted chocolate brown eyes, and deep chestnut hair are a proud marker of his Asian heritage.

And then there’s Blaine. A complete mix of them both. Growing up, he had to fight (once physically) for people to understand that he is half Asian. Unlike Alex (who to this day gets the quirked eyebrow when he tells people he’s half Filipino and will sometimes, depending on the company, not even bother to mention this fact), Blaine does have Asian traits. It’s just that he has enough caucasian traits to ‘trick’ the more ignorant population.

In the end, not only are these three completely different men brothers...they actually share the exact same birthdate.

Growing up as a triplet was an interesting experience. One that can only truly be understood by those who, themselves, grew up as a multiple.

For example, there really isn’t a way to explain the special kind of connection that sees one triplet farting on the head of another triplet while the third triplet holds him down.

Which is how we find the Anderson triplets now.

“Oh my God, get the fuck off of me!” Henry shouts, trying to bring his hands up to block the assault.

Alex laughs from somewhere above him, letting out a sigh as he completes the job, before moving from his straddle position.

“You can let him go, Blainers.” Alex says to Blaine who had been holding Henry’s shoulders and arms down.

Blaine releases Henry who immediately shrugs him off (like he had been the one to break the hold) and sits up, “I expect this shit from him,” Henry says, pointing to Alex, “but not from you.” He concludes, pointing to Blaine.

Blaine shrugs, “He had a justifiable reason.”

Henry rolls his eyes before shifting on the couch and picking up some of the papers in front of him. He’s got work to do. He’s not even sure why he agreed to have his brothers over to his apartment on the eve of potentially the biggest meeting of his career.

“So, we need to talk about what we’re going to do for Tiny’s bachelorette.” Alex says, sitting down on the other couch and picking up his beer. HE doesn’t have a high stress meeting in the morning.

But, right. That’s why they’re here. To discuss their little sister’s upcoming nuptials.

“We’re not her bridesmaids OR her maid of honour.” Blaine reminds, “Isn’t our job to go with the guys when they take Sam out?”

Alex stares aghast when Henry shrugs and nods along with the suggestion, “Ummm no!” Alex shouts, indignantly, “This is our baby sister’s wedding. Our ONLY sister’s wedding. If it’s not her big brothers’ job to take her out and get her drunk and danced upon by random strippers then I don’t know whose job it is.”

Blaine and Henry stare at their brother in silence for a moment.

“Ummm, it’s literally anyone else’s job but ours.” Henry says.

Alex rises slightly from his seat and sits down with an emphatic exhale, “You can’t be serious!” He exclaims, “To quote a very neurotic man ‘I expect this shit from him,” He says pointing at Henry, “but not from you.’” He finishes, pointing at Blaine.

Blaine’s eyes go wide and Henry can tell that Blaine’s people pleasing nature is taking a serious hit tonight. If there’s one thing Blaine Anderson can’t stand, it’s people not liking him and being disappointed in him.

“We are her *brothers*.” Alex emphasises again, “I think she’d be really hurt if we didn’t do something for her.”

Henry sighs, “But does that ‘something’ have to include naked men?” He asks, even though he already knows he’s going to agree to whatever Alex has planned. That’s how their relationship works and always has. Alex comes up with the crazy schemes, Blaine goes along with pretty much anything to stop people from being upset with him, and Henry usually acquiesces because if not...the other two would probably end up in jail.

Alex smiles like he knows he’s close, “Come on. You don’t think Tiny would get a kick out of naked men dancing for her? And besides, Blaine and I will enjoy it just as much!” He waggles his eyebrows lewdly. Alex really is a charismatic, nice guy...once you see past the frat boy exterior.

Henry sighs again as he shuffles his papers. He could mention that while Blaine and Alex (being gay and pansexual respectively) would get a kick out of a male strip club, he (as a straight man) probably wouldn’t. But...in the end he loves his brothers and sister too much to refuse…

...especially with Blaine now fully on board and the two of them looking at Henry like he has the keys to all of their hopes and dreams.

“Oh, fine.” He grumbles, even though he smiles.

The other two cheer and Henry rolls his eyes as they begin to make plans and he goes back to his notes.

-- -- --

Blaine leans over and gives Alex a brief hug as their cab pulls up in front of Blaine’s apartment later that night, “Night Al.” He says.

Alex smiles, “Night Blainers.”

Blaine’s got one foot out of the cab when Alex calls his name. He turns and raises a questioning brow at his brother, “Don’t forget to check your Tinder.” He waggles his eyebrows much like earlier. Alex spends a lot of his time waggling his eyebrows.

Blaine chuckles and rolls his eyes, “It’s not Tinder. It’s just...a regular dating app.”

Blaine’s not ashamed of the fact that he’s trying online dating. He’s a 26-year-old single man in New York City and at least half the world is online dating. It’s worth a try. And it’s not like he’s Alex who trips and falls (sometimes literally) over a new sexual partner almost every day or Henry who is married to his job. He’s just covering his bases.

Alex smiles, “Well, just be sure to check it. And remember, only swipe right if it looks like they have a big penis.”

Blaine rolls his eyes again before giving his brother the middle finger and getting out of the car. He stands on the curb as the cab pulls into traffic on its way to Alex’s apartment ten minutes away, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket after getting hit with the wind of a late September evening chill.

When the cab turns a corner and is no longer in sight, Blaine turns and makes his way into his apartment building. It’s not the most posh of buildings but it’s comfortable. It’s home. And Blaine is proud of the fact that he is able to afford it without having to rely on his parents’ money. They’ve offered, sure, but Blaine has never wanted to rely on his parents that much.

His building is quiet this late at night and Blaine doesn’t pass a single person on his way to the fifth floor. He lets himself into his apartment, toes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, and throws his keys into the bowl on the front table before making his way to the couch and collapsing onto it with a sigh.

Despite his eye roll at his brother, the first thing he does upon sitting down is check his dating app, ConnectSingle. It’s definitely not Tinder, no swiping of any kind required, but Blaine enjoys the fact that both parties need to indicate interest (by clicking a happy face on their basic profile) before they can contact each other or even view their whole profile. And while he feels like it’s slightly shallow, Blaine has definitely used that function to weed out some of the less...aesthetically pleasing requests.

He’s actually only communicated with three guys so far and only met up with one in person (...it didn’t go well), but he’s optimistic he’ll find someone he can really connect with. And if not? Well, he hasn’t really lost anything in trying.

He first checks to see who has given him a smiley face today. Three men seem to enjoy the picture Henry had taken of him on the beach, sunglasses reflecting the ocean and curls loose and billowing in the wind, and he considers each of their pictures before deleting them all. He feels slightly bad but figures if you sign up to online dating not expecting to be rejected sometimes, you’re doing it wrong.

He then flips to his ‘daily matches’ - men the app thinks he might like. He hems and haws over their basic profiles and decides to smiley face two; a redhead named Andy (who appeals to the side of Blaine that enjoys larger men) and a brown haired man named Kurt (who has great hair, great eyes, and a smirk Blaine may be interested in knowing more about).

It’s not as immediately satisfying as he would like it to be, clicking the smiley face. Nothing happens other than a yellow smiley face rises slightly above his thumb and then winks out, leaving a static yellow smiley face behind, but he feels accomplished.

He closes the app and stretches on the couch, glancing at the clock to notice it’s almost 1 am. He doesn’t have anywhere immediate to go in the morning, perks of being an on call studio musician, but figures just in case he gets a call he should go to bed.

Without thinking of ConnectSingles again, he goes about his evening routine, plugs his phone in and is asleep twenty minutes later.

-- -- --

Alex could go home. It’s where he told his brother and, more importantly, the cab driver he’d be going. But as the cab driver pulls away from the curb he gets a text from his friend, Elliott, telling him he should meet him at a bar.

Alex shrugs and tells the cab driver to change his final destination. It doesn’t take much to convince Alex to go out.

When he gets to the bar, he finds Elliott leaning against the brick front wall. He’s got a foot propped up behind him, a bare knee poking out of ripped black jeans, and a cigarette burning from his lips as he looks down at his phone.

“I must reiterate - as a performer you really shouldn’t smoke.” Alex says by way of a greeting.

Elliott looks up from his phone and smirks as he pulls the cigarette from between his lips, “Old habits die hard.” He says with a shrug before flicking the mostly unsmoked cigarette to the ground and pulling Alex into a hug, “Good to see you, man.”

“You too.” Alex says returning the hug, “Any particular reason you dragged me out of bed on this cold night to meet you at a bar at 1 am?”

Elliott rolls his eyes, “If you were in bed, I promise that was the last smoke of my life.”

Alex purses his lips to hide his smile before sighing, “Damnit, fine, I wasn’t in bed.” Elliott laughs and puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder, pulling him forward into the bar.

The noise from inside the bar gets unsurprisingly louder as they enter but luckily not so loud that it makes talking impossible. They may have to raise their voices slightly to be heard but Alex knows he won’t be leaving with burst ear drums.

“We were just having a really great night and I thought you should be a part of it.” Elliott explains.

Alex nods, enjoying that Elliott thought to include him, “We?” He asks as they make their way to the bar.

Elliott shrugs, “Just a bunch of people from the theatre.” He calls.

It’s not wall to wall packed in the bar but it’s busy enough that Alex accidentally runs into someone on their walk from the door to the bar. He ‘oofs’ at the impact and then is immediately apologetic as the person he hit turns around.

The words die on his lips when a set of cool blue eyes make eye contact with him. An eyebrow is quirked above those eyes and pink lips wrap around a straw as they regard Alex. Alex notices the slight pull in of the cheeks attached to the lips as they suck up liquid.

He’s broken from his stare when Elliott laughs, “Alex? Kurt. Kurt? Alex.”

Alex feels Elliott pat his shoulder a few times before the other man is gone, leaving Kurt and Alex still looking at each other. Alex watches as Kurt’s tongue flicks out to play with the straw still between his lips and Alex is transfixed.

“Hi.” He breathes, suddenly wishing he had worn a better outfit to Henry’s than his faded jeans and white button up shirt with tiny rubber ducks on it.

“Hi.” Kurt answers back with a smile.

-- -- --

Henry fidgets the next morning as he sits outside the office the nice receptionist directed him to. His knee bounces and he shuffles through the papers in his folder, wishing he could stop the sweat he can feel building under his suit jacket.

He’s prepared, he knows he is, but a job interview for a large production company is a lot different than working out of a one room studio with guys you went to college with.

Henry checks his watch and realizes he’s probably got another ten minutes to wait - he’s always extremely early to all things, something he wishes he could teach his brother.

As if summoned by Henry’s thought, his phone buzzes in his pocket and a text from Alex pops up.

Alex

You got this brother! Now I’m going back to sleep.

Henry chuckles softly and doesn’t bother to respond. Alex is probably already asleep again.

He’s still looking at his phone when a second text comes in, this time from Blaine.

Blaine

You are more than ready for this, Henry. Call me after to let me know how it goes.

Henry smiles at the texts on his screen and feel bolstered by their support. He texts Blaine back to thank him and tell him he will call him after, before pocketing his phone and going back to bouncing his knee.

“Can I...get you something to drink?” A hesitant voice asks to Henry’s left.

He jumps slightly and turns to find a well dressed man with high chestnut hair and a soft smile looking at him like you might a spooked animal.

Henry chuckles and can feel his cheeks blush slightly in embarrassment at how ridiculous he must look, “The receptionist already offered and I’m good. But thank you.”

The man nods but doesn’t immediately depart. Instead he continues to look at Henry with a calculating expression, “Job interview?” He asks, finally.

Henry bites his lip, “Is it that obvious?”

The man shrugs and gestures to the seat next to Henry. Henry also gestures to the seat with a nod and the man sits, crossing one long leg over the other, “I don’t think anyone else would notice. I just recall with ridiculous clarity my own nerves when I interviewed for a job here.”

Henry nods, “But obviously it went well for you.”

The man seems to preen, his swooped hair swaying slightly as he shakes his head and Henry finds himself smiling, “Obviously.” The man says and while it should come across as cocky, it doesn’t and Henry finds his nerves easing. The man smiles and holds out a hand, “Kurt.” He says.

Henry takes the hand and shakes it warmly, “Henry.”

Kurt smiles, “Well, Henry, what do you say I take you out for a coffee to celebrate after your interview?”

And suddenly Henry is nervous again but this time it has nothing to do with his interview.

-- -- --

Blaine stretches like a cat in a sun spot and hums as he squints at the bright sun shining through his bedroom window. He loves to wake up to the sun.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand and he rolls over to grab it. He’s got three notifications on his phone. One is a text from Alex sent at 3:43 am.

Alex

Duuuuuude you will not believe the night I’ve had!

Blaine chuckles and figures texting Alex back now would yield no fruit. It’s only 9 am, Alex would be asleep for hours yet.

The second notification is reminding him that Henry has a job interview this morning. He silently thanks himself for setting the reminder and quickly shoots a text to his brother for support.

The last notification is from ConnectSingle. Blaine has a match! It’s not quite as exciting as it was when he first got the app but he’ll admit to a tiny thrill going through him at the prospect of mutual interest. He wonders if it’s Andy or Kurt from last night or one of the other people he’s smiley faced in the past.

He thumbs open the app and notices first that Andy’s name is no longer on his ‘pending’ list which means the other man deleted Blaine’s profile. It stings a little but then he smiles when he sees a green smiley face next to Kurt’s name and picture (indicating a reciprocated interest) and an email attachment. He presses the email and settles back against the pillow to read what his new match has to say.

Blaine,

Hi! My name’s Kurt. Though I guess you already knew that... (Blaine chuckles softly) Anyway! Thank you for ‘smiling’ at me. You have a great actual smile :) I’d be interested to learn more about you - your profile says you’re a musician? Message me back if you’re interested in chatting!

Kurt

It’s simple but it still makes Blaine kicky feet just the tiniest bit under his blankets. He bites his lip and reads the message again before opening a reply box and typing his own message back.

Kurt

Hello! It’s great to ‘meet’ you. You also have a really great smile and might I add you have stunning eyes (is ‘stunning’ too much for a first email?) I am a musician! I’m a freelance studio musician, which, believe it or not, makes me a pretty decent living. Your profile says you like cars - Driving them? Working on them? Sitting in them? (I promise not to judge if it’s the last one). Hope to hear from you soon!

Blaine :)

As always, Blaine reads his message four times before hitting send and then rereads it again for any stupid things he may have said. He’s pretty happy with what he sent though and as he heads to the shower he’s already anticipating Kurt’s response.

-- -- --

“You are a God among men!” Alex exclaims as he walks out the front entrance to his apartment building later that afternoon to find Blaine standing outside with a coffee cup extended in one hand.

Blaine chuckles as his brother takes the cup, slings an arm around his shoulder and noisily kisses his cheek, “Well, I figured you would have just gotten up.” Blaine says as the pair start to walk down the street.

Alex hums around a sip of delicious coffee before nodding, “Within the last hour.”

“I still don’t understand how you can sustain this lifestyle.” Blaine says with a shake of his head. He knows that, out of the three of them, Alex relies most heavily on their parents to make ends meet and that his job as an evening bread baker at a small bakery means he doesn’t work typical hours (though who is Blaine to talk?) but sometimes he worries that Alex isn’t taking care of himself as well as he could.

Alex fidgets with the beanie he has on over his undoubtedly messy brown hair and shrugs with an easy smile, “Hey, man, when it works, it works.”

Blaine nods to concede the point, for now, as they round the corner on the street the bakery Alex works at is on, “So, what was so unbelievable about your night last night?”

Alex perks up at the mention and seems to skip along next to Blaine, “I met someone!”

Blaine rolls his eyes affectionately, “You are always ‘meeting someone’.”

Alex nods but smacks Blaine lightly, “I know but this guy is different. He’s...amazing!”

Blaine smiles, “Well, I’m happy for you.” He says, “Are you seeing him again?”

Sometimes, Blaine gets jealous over how easily Alex meets people. Granted as a pansexual, his pool of potential partners is larger than Blaine’s, but there’s just something so magnetic about Alex and he doesn’t seem to have any insecurities holding him back.

Alex presses his lips together and nods, “Tomorrow night!”

Blaine tries not to let his shock show. For as often as Alex hooks up with people, he usually doesn’t see the same person more than once. Blaine has asked that question of Alex a lot and usually gets a shrug and a ‘probably not’. Now, Alex seems genuinely excited.

“That’s amazing. Did you sleep with him last night?” Blaine asks as they come to a stop outside Alex’s work.

“Now, Blainers, you know a man does not kiss and tell!” Alex scoffs but then smirks, “But...there was kissing.” And there is the eyebrow waggle.

Blaine laughs, “Well, you’ll have to keep me updated.” He says.

“Speaking of updated,” Alex says, “Have you heard from our enigmatic big brother today about his interview?”

Blaine furrows his brow, “Not since before it happened. I told him to call me afterwards.”

Alex pouts his lips thoughtfully, “Maybe it went so well he had to go home and masturbate to his work success.”

Blaine half laughs and half groans, “That is not a visual I needed.” Alex shrugs with a chuckle, “But I’ll message him and find out how it went. Have a good shift. I’ll see Friday at Mom and Dad’s?”

Alex nods, “Okay, let me know what he says.” Because texting Henry himself would be too much work?, “And you sure will see me Friday, baby brother!”

Blaine rolls his eyes again, “I am not the baby!”

Alex clicks his tongue and shrugs, “Last one out is always the baby.”

“I am literally one minute ‘younger’ than you.” Blaine huffs complete with sarcastic finger quotes.

“And what a glorious minute it was.” Alex says with a wistful sigh and then dodges when Blaine tries to hit him in the head.

Alex waves without further ado and then heads into the bakery to start his shift, leaving Blaine on the sidewalk to pull out his phone. He’s about to open his text app to message Henry when a red bubbled one by the ConnectSingles app draws his attention.

He opens it with a giddy flutter of his stomach to find a new message from Kurt. He starts walking down the crowded street while he opens the email to read it (he’s lived in New York all his life, he’s an expert at phone reading and dodging people at the same time).

Blaine,

‘Freelance studio musician’ sounds fascinating. Do you know how to play a lot of instruments? As for my interest in cars, it’s all about working on them (who enjoys just sitting in cars? :P lol). My dad owns a garage in my hometown and I’ve been fixing cars since I could hold a wrench. I think he secretly wanted me to take over the business but fixing cars was always a hobby, not a vocation for me.

...Is that an overshare for a second message? I’m fairly new to this online thing. If it is, pretend I didn’t say anything.

Musicals! (I’m very good at subtly subject changes…) Are you a fan of musicals? I don’t like to assume just because a person is gay but I love musicals. They’re a big part of my life. So, I like to know right off the bat if I’m talking to a like minded person.

Talk soon?

Kurt

Blaine can feel the goofy smile on his face and isn’t sure why he feels the need to try and tamp it down. It’s New York City, there are way weirder things happening than a guy smiling down at his phone. He can’t get over how adorable Kurt seems just from two messages. He usually likes to play it slow, wait a while after receiving a message before messaging back but he opens the return message box immediately and crafts a response at the next stop light.

Kurt

I do know how to play a lot of instruments. I’m kind of a jack of all trades but master of none type? My parents put me in piano when I was kid and it’s actually the only instrument I’m classically trained in. Everything else I just picked up along the way. I think my parents secretly wanted me to be a concert pianist but classical music was always more a hobby than a true vocation for me (I don’t think you overshared but just in case you still think you did...I thought I’d ‘overshare’ back :)

I absolutely love musicals! Don’t ask me to pick a favourite, I simply couldn’t. Do you have a favourite? Let me guess...Wicked? You strike me as someone who would really appreciate the brilliance of Idina and Kristin. But maybe I’m wrong - I’m happy either way!

Blaine :)

P.S. You said your dad has a garage in your hometown? Where’s that? I grew up in Manhattan myself.

Blaine’s almost home by the time he finishes typing and he hits send before he can second guess himself. On his way up the stairs, he dials Henry’s number only to have the phone go to voicemail. Blaine’s brow furrows as he gets to his apartment. It’s not like his brother always picks up the phone when he calls, it’s just unusual when he doesn’t.

Shrugging, Blaine texts Henry to get him to call him back when he has a moment and then he starts about making dinner. He tries very hard not to check his phone compulsively for a message from Kurt.

-- -- --

Henry is in the middle of an existential crisis.

He hates to think of it as such. Out of his brothers he’s the level-headed one. Always has been. Blaine has an existential crisis every second week and Alex is too laid back to have anything resembling a crisis of any kind about anything ever. But Henry is always the one who thinks things through. Who sees pros and cons and the black and white of everything and comes to a logical conclusion about all things...

...this afternoon had felt anything but logical or black and white…

He’d walked out of the two hour interview with shaking hands but a smile on his face and a contract in his pocket. He was elated if not a little shaken by the whole experience. He’d almost bumped into Kurt standing just down the hall from the room the interview had taken place.

“So?” Kurt had said with a hopeful expression, “Are we coworkers? Am I taking you out for celebratory coffee?”

Henry had smiled at the man and nodded, “They offered me a job.”

Kurt’s face had lit up and while Henry’s first thought had been to wonder why this virtual stranger was so invested in whether he got a job or not, Kurt’s obvious joy made Henry’s joy that much more palpable.

“Well, then, shall we head to the coffee shop? Drinks on me, obviously.”

And then he winked.

It had hit Henry suddenly, and probably would have hit him sooner had he not been so worked up about his interview, that he was being hit on. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been hit on by a guy and he likes to think even if he didn’t have one gay brother and one pansexual brother that he would have been evolved enough to not be offended or hostile but usually when faced with this situation he would smile politely and say he wasn’t interested.

At that moment, however, he hadn’t wanted to say ‘no’...so he hadn’t.

“That sounds great.” He’d smiled.

Their coffee date had been amazing. Henry had spent the first hour after getting home trying to tell himself it hadn’t been a date but has come to the acceptance part of his crisis. It had been a date. A date with a man. A date with a man he’d actually enjoyed.

Kurt had bought the drinks and then the pair had sat across from each other at the small coffee shop talking about the job Henry had just gotten and what Kurt did for the company (he runs costume design for the theatrical branch of the production company). They talked about musicals (Henry had actually mentally thanked Blaine for forcing him to watch so many over the years), and they talked about football (only briefly after Henry realized it wasn’t up Kurt’s alley).

When Kurt had said he needed to get home, Henry had actually felt bereft. He knew even in that moment he needed to go home and freak out about what exactly was happening but he also didn’t want whatever was happening to end.

They had exchanged phone numbers and Kurt had told him he’d see him the next day at work. And then he winked again. Henry can still feel the blush from that wink almost two hours later.

When his phone buzzed with a phone call from Blaine an hour and a half into his crisis, he’d let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t in a place to talk to his brother. He wasn’t even sure what he would say. ‘Hey, Blaine! Yeah, I got a job and a boyfriend today!’

That thought had caused a spiral that Henry has been in for the last half hour. He does NOT have a boyfriend and one coffee date does not an anything make let alone a boyfriend but the fact that he had the thought means he’s thinking about Kurt in that way. He’s thinking about a man in a romantic way. This is not something he’s ever experienced before.

And suddenly, Blaine seems like the perfect person to talk to about this.

He gropes from his prone position on his couch for the phone he’d tossed onto the coffee table when it had rung with Blaine’s call. He dials his brother’s number and puts a hand over his eyes while he waits for the call to connect.

“Hey!” Blaine answers, happily, “How’d it go?”

Henry knows Blaine is asking about the interview but again his thoughts go to Kurt. He shakes his head to rid himself of the impulsive thought and answers Blaine’s question, “I got it.” He says.

Blaine whoops on the other end of the line, “I knew you would! That is amazing!”

Henry smiles, “Thanks.”

Suddenly, Blaine’s celebration dies off, “Why do you not sound over the moon about this? Is this because of Vance? He was the one who told you to go for this!” Vance is one of Henry’s best friends, one of the men he works with (or he figures it’s now ‘worked’ with). Vance had indeed pushed Henry to interview for the larger company.

“No, no. It’s not about Vance.” Henry answers.

“Then what is it?” Blaine asks and the earnestness in Blaine’s voice opens a flood gate.

“I met someone today.” Henry confesses.

“Oh!” He can tell Blaine is suprised. Henry doesn’t date. Hasn’t had a girlfriend since his junior year of high school. He’ll unpack what exactly that says about him later… “And that’s upsetting?” Blaine asks.

Henry grimaces, “Not in and of itself, I guess.” He starts, “It’s just...it’s a guy?” He says it like a question and then feels slightly queasy afterwards.

The line is silent for a long time, longer than Henry can stand without starting to feel even sicker, before Blaine lets out a breath, “That’s...awesome.”

Henry scrunches his eyes closed, “I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

He can almost picture Blaine nodding on the other end of the line, “And nor do you have to.” Blaine reassures, “Just answer me one thing: did you have fun with him?”

“Yes.” Henry answers.

“Then focus on that.” Blaine says and Henry can hear the smile in his voice, “Leave the other stuff to the side for now. I know you, and I know you want to figure everything out and this puts a little bit of a kink into the careful order of your life but if it makes you happy then that’s all that matters.”

Henry lets out of a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. Blaine’s words unravel a knot he’s felt in his chest all afternoon and while he knows he’s not done freaking out about this, he’s willing to allow the happiness to overpower it. Blaine had been the right one to call.

“And Henry, if you have any...questions or you just need to talk things out, you know I’m only a phone call away, right?” Henry nods into the phone, getting a little choked up at the offer.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He breathes out.

“Anytime.” Blaine says, “Now, do you want to tell me more about your job or your date?”

Henry bites his lip as he smiles, “Both?”

“I’m all ears.” Blaine says.

-- -- --

The next night, Alex leaves work to once again find a man on the sidewalk waiting for him but instead of his brother, this time it’s Kurt. He smiles at the man and waves as he approaches.

Kurt waves back before putting his hand back into the pocket of his jacket where it had emerged from, “Hey. It’s good to see you again.” He says.

Alex smiles, “Same to you.”

They stare at each other for a few beats before Kurt tilts his head over his shoulder, “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat?”

Alex chuckles, “Uh, that sounds nice but I have to admit, working at a bakery means I rarely leave a shift hungry. Samples and all that.”

Kurt chuckles as well and then shrugs, “Then what did you have in mind?”

Alex has a few things in mind and when he smiles at Kurt, who smiles back, he figures Kurt is thinking the same thing.

“I have some snacks at my apartment?” Alex offers with a grin.

He can see Kurt’s cheeks pink slightly as the other man ducks his head in an adorably, flirtatious way, “Lead the way.”

-- -- --

Blaine scrolls through his messages from Kurt over the past four days on the train to his parents’ place. He’s got more messages in their thread than he does in all his other threads combined. He actually hasn’t messaged anyone else since he and Kurt started talking but even if he had, he is sure the frequency with which they chat would have surpassed any other conversation Blaine would be having.

The pair have covered so many topics in their messages that Blaine wonders if there is anything left to share. He hasn’t shared this much about himself so fast to another person ever, let alone a person he’s never met in person. Usually by the time he knows this much about a person they’ve been dating for a few months. He and Kurt have been messaging for four days…

He’s just finished drafting an email suggesting that he and Kurt meet up when he gets to his stop. He hits send and then pockets his phone before exiting the train and taking the stairs to the surface. The air is colder than he expected and he hunkers down in his coat for the five minute walk to his parents’ brownstone. His childhood home.

He’s turning onto their street when he sees Henry coming from the other direction. He throws a hand up in a wave that his brother returns and they make their way toward each other. They haven’t really talked since their phone call but Blaine knows Henry usually needs to work things out in his own head first. He’ll come to Blaine when and if he needs to.

“Hey.” Blaine says when they meet up outside the house, embracing his brother in a hug that has him standing on his tiptoes.

“Hey.” Henry answers before they pull away from each other.

“Everything...okay?” Blaine asks, not wanting to push.

Henry smiles, “Getting there, yeah.” He says.

Blaine smiles and nods, appeased for now, and the pair make their way up the stairs to the front door. It opens before they get there to reveal a tiny ball of energy on the other side.

“My boys!” Amelia Anderson shouts for the whole street to hear and then launches herself into first Blaine’s arms and then Henry’s.

Both men laugh as they absorb their sister’s hug. Amelia is four years younger than her brothers and at twenty-two years old is only five foot three inches tall, prompting her brothers to nickname her…

“Hey Tiny!” Blaine smiles.

Amelia smiles back before gesturing for the men to come inside, “Come, come. Dinner’s almost ready and Al’s already here talking to Dad about some new spice for bread?” She shrugs as Henry and Blaine take off their coats and shoes.

“Is that my other two boys?” The trio hear called from, undoubtedly, the kitchen before Fiona Anderson emerges.

“Mama!” Henry says, pulling their mother to him.

“Oh, it just fills my heart to the brim when all my babies are home.” Fiona gushes as she turns to pull Blaine into a hug and then Amelia even though Amelia lives in the house and has probably been there all day. Their mother is never short on hugs.

“It’s good to be home.” Blaine smiles.

Fiona reaches out and strokes his olive-toned cheek with her pale hand, “Go say hello to your father before dinner.” She says before shooing them in the direction of the living room.

When they enter, Blaine sees Alex showing their father, Daniel Anderson, something on his phone. Daniel looks up when they enter and smiles large, patting Alex’s arm in apparent apology before getting up to hug his other sons.

“My boys.” Daniel says reverently, cupping both Henry and Blaine’s cheeks in his hands and looking between them.

Blaine loves his parents, even if they act like they haven’t seen their children in months when it’s really been only a week. The Anderson’s grew up with family dinners every Sunday and the tradition continued even with the three boys moving out on their own.

“Tell me what’s new.” Daniel asks, sitting back down as Blaine and Henry sit next to Alex on the couch after saying hello and Amelia settles on the ground by the coffee table.

The five chat about work and other sundry topics until their mother calls them for dinner. They settle into their usual spots.

“No Sam tonight?” Blaine asks, noticing the spot next to Amelia, usually reserved for her fiance, is empty.

“He’s at work.” Amelia offers, “Though he has made me promise to bring him leftovers.” She says and Fiona laughs.

“I’ll wrap some up after dinner if your brothers don’t eat it all.” She says with an affectionate glance at the three men sitting along one side of the table.

Dinner conversation is more the same as their conversation in the den until Amelia gets a sneaky look on her face, “So...anybody dating anyone new?”

Blaine swallows and feels the weight of his phone in his jeans pocket more acutely. He’s not nervous to tell his family about Kurt, he just doesn’t know how to tell them and his family can be...a lot sometimes when it comes to relationships. Or anything really.

He glances at his brothers, who are looking back at him and then at each other. Blaine wonders if he’s the only one who knows they actually all have something to tell.

In the end, they all shrug.

“Nothing to report.” Alex answers, seemingly for all of them.

Mercifully, talk turns away from their dating lives and to Amelia’s upcoming wedding. Blaine’s actually surprised it has taken them this long into the evening to start talking about it (it sometimes feels like it’s all they talk about) and Blaine enjoys the excited squeal Amelia gives when Alex mentions their plan to take her out.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he jolts slightly at the table. His fingers itch to pull his phone out but the rule has always been no phones at the table. He’ll have to wait until he’s on his way home. The waiting is torture even though he loves hanging out with his family.

When they finally wrap up the evening with several rounds of hugs, Blaine and Alex make their way to the subway together (after seeing Henry off in the other direction to a different train).

Blaine’s got his phone out as soon as he’s sitting in the, thankfully, sparsely populated car.

“Any plans for the night?” Alex asks as he lounges next to Blaine, munching on left over rolls from dinner.

Blaine doesn’t answer right away - instead reading the last message from Kurt.

Blaine

I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels like I know so much about you before we’ve even met. I’d love to meet up in person. I know you said you’ll be at your parents house tonight but...any chance I can interest you in a nightcap? We could meet at Coffee Project whenever you're done at your parents? Text me if you’re interested :)

Kurt

212-967-1253

Blaine has no idea where Coffee Project is but he’s already looking up directions when Alex hits him.

“Uh, what?” He asks, looking up in a daze.

Alex quirks an eyebrow at him, “I asked if you had plans for tonight.”

Blaine smiles, “I do now.”

-- -- --

Blaine opens the door to Coffee Project a half hour later and even though it’s late, a few heads turn at the sound of the bell over the door. Blaine’s hoping one of the heads is Kurt’s and he has a fleeting moment to hope Kurt actually looks like his profile picture when his worries are assuaged by a swivelling head at a table near the back.

Kurt looks exactly like his profile picture except he’s even better looking in person. The way his eyes light up when he sees Blaine at the door is something you can’t really capture in a picture.

“Hey!” Kurt enthuses when Blaine gets close. He’s up out of his seat and pulling Blaine into his arms before Blaine can say anything.

It should feel strange to hug someone he’s never met but it doesn’t. He’s met Kurt in every way except the physical (not that he hasn’t thought about the physical...but he digresses), so it feels natural to hug him close.

“Hi.” Blaine whispers as they part and sit on either side of the table.

“I ordered you a medium drip with some cinnamon. I hope that’s okay? You mentioned it was your drink of choice.” Kurt seems a little nervous but he’s smiling excitedly and even if Kurt was just nervous, Blaine’s excited enough for the both of them.

“No, that’s perfect.” He says, lifting his cup in a cheers motion before taking a sip.

Kurt shifts in his seat, “So, I know this is technically our first date but every topic of conversation I could think of while I waited for you we’ve already covered in our emails. This doesn’t feel like a first date.”

Blaine shakes his head, “It really doesn’t.”

Kurt nods, “How was your parents’ house?”

“It was wonderful as usual.” Blaine smiles and Kurt smiles back.

They make small talk for a while, complete with goofy grins at each other, before Blaine scratches his chin and looks out the front window, “What is it?” Kurt asks.

Blaine coughs and loses his nerve at the last moment to ask Kurt back to his place. He may feel like he’s known this man for a lot longer than four days virtually and about an hour in person, but the reality is they don’t know each other at all. And Blaine’s romantic nature is screaming at him to take this slow because this could be the real deal. He doesn’t want his baser instincts to scare Kurt off.

He shakes his head with a smile, “Nothing. Do you want to go for a walk?”

It’s probably a little too cold for a walk outside but Manhattan seems to glow around them as they walk slowly through the still populated street. It’s one of Blaine’s favourite things about New York - it truly never sleeps.

“So you said your brother is taking over the garage from your dad when he retires?” Blaine says as they follow a path through a small park.

Kurt nods, “Yeah. I sometimes wonder if my dad is secretly disappointed I never wanted to take it over.”

Blaine shrugs, “Are you the oldest?”

Kurt pouts slightly before ‘ah’ing and then chuckling, “Did I not mention Finn is my step-brother? Not my biological brother?”

“You did not.” Blaine answers and the pair laugh.

Kurt stops at a rusty swing set in the park and sits down on one, curling one arm around the chain. Blaine sits next to him and mirrors his position. The metal is freezing under his palm but he leaves his hand where it is and rocks his feet in the sand to swing himself back and forth slightly.

“My dad remarried when I was fifteen.” Kurt shares, “To the mother of a boy at my school. Same grade as me. It was...interesting.”

“Were you two friends in school?” Blaine asks.

Kurt chuckles slightly, but Blaine’s not sure why the question was funny, “Not really.” Kurt answers, “At all. We didn’t run in the same circles. His circle was more interested in making my circle’s life hell. Me specifically.”

Blaine feels instantly angry at people he’s never met. He pictures a younger Kurt getting bullied and wants to punch someone. He tries to tell himself his anger comes only from his own similar school experience.

“He was never really someone who bullied me. He just...didn’t do anything about it either. But then things started to change. It took a while - even after our parents married - but now I sometimes forget to tell people he’s my stepbrother.” Kurt shrugs, “He’s just been my brother for a lot of years now.”

Blaine smiles at the soft smile on Kurt’s face before the other man’s face is scrunching up, “I’m once again oversharing too soon, aren’t I?” He asks, “I’m, honestly, not usually like this.”

Blaine shifts so he’s more fully facing Kurt on the swing, “Hey, no. It’s totally fine. I…” He hesitates, “I want to know everything about you.”

Kurt’s eyes light up and he gives a little inhale through a slightly open mouth. Blaine can’t be one hundred percent sure, because the lighting isn’t amazing, but he thinks he sees Kurt’s cheeks pinken.

Blaine shrugs, “And if it helps you any, I once walked in on my parents having sex when I was fifteen and they sat me down the next day and gave me a very indepth, and scarring, sex talk.”

His anecdote has the desired effect and Kurt laughs heartily. Blaine smiles at the lyrical sound.

Kurt puts a hand up to his mouth as his laugh turns into a chuckle, “Are you serious? Or did you just make that up to make me feel better about oversharing?”

Blaine winces slightly which just makes Kurt laugh more, “Unfortunately, I am completely serious. I couldn’t think of anything remotely sexual for months after.”

This admission only makes Kurt laugh again.

-- -- --

A half hour, and one slide down the red metal slide at the park for each of them later, Kurt and Blaine walk toward Kurt’s apartment. Blaine actually feels himself slowing his pace. Despite the late hour, he doesn’t want this night to end.

“I had a really good time tonight.” He says.

Kurt smiles, “So did I.”

They come to a stop outside Kurt’s building and they hesitate, facing each other with shy smiles and hands stuffed in their coat pockets for warmth.

“I’d really like to see you again.” Blaine says.

Kurt bites his lip slightly and, even though it’s a cliche, Blaine’s eyes dip down at the movement before flicking back up.

“I’d really like to see you again as well.” Kurt whispers and then Blaine can take it no longer. He’s been waiting all night.

Without preamble, he pulls one hand from his pocket and rests it on Kurt’s elbow before ducking in and up and pressing his lips to Kurt’s. Kurt breathes in quickly before he’s kissing back. It’s short but amazing and they pull back with equally breathless expressions.

“Good night, Kurt. I’ll text you.” Blaine whispers, still leaning into Kurt’s space.

Kurt blinks at him before smiling, “Night Blaine. And not if I text you first.”

And then with a wink, Kurt pulls away and walks toward his building. He turns at the door to wave at Blaine over his shoulder with another smile, and Blaine waves back before Kurt enters the building and out of his sight.

Blaine has to quell the impulse to jump and click his heels together in joy before making his way down the street to hail a cab home.

-- -- --

Two days later, Henry sits at a counter by himself. There are people around but none of them give much notice to the nervous man at the counter whose knee is bouncing so frantically that Henry is sure he’s going to injure himself.

He keeps glancing around, eyes darting around the room like at any moment someone is going to come and arrest him just for sitting. Well, if he’s being honest it’s not the sitting he thinks he’s going to be arrested for.

He shakes his head at the thought. He’s not going to get arrested for any of this. Ugh, he should have called Blaine again before this.

“Hey!” He hears from behind him and spins to see Kurt standing there. He’s unwinding a scarf from his neck and he looks...beautiful. It’s the only way Henry can describe him.

“Hi.” Henry says around a suddenly dry mouth.

Kurt smiles and looks around as he takes his jacket off, “So...bowling.” He says and his smile turns slightly confused.

Henry coughs, “Uh yeah. Is that okay? I...it felt like a good idea.”

Kurt smiles, “I haven’t been bowling in years, and I’ll admit I’m not at all good, but I’m willing to give it a shot...” He pauses and looks down the counter toward where a man is handing out bowling shoes, “as long as I can get shoes that go with my outfit.”

Henry laughs, nervously, before his eyes are once again darting around. He had almost convinced himself that his wandering eyes before had been in search of Kurt but now that Kurt is here…

His eyes land back on Kurt who is looking at him with a serious face. Henry shifts under the gaze and tries to laugh again but it comes out as more of a groan to his ears.

Kurt licks his lips (and Henry jolts when he realizes how easily his eyes followed the motion) before the other man is nodding, “Hey, I’m kind of hungry. Do you mind if we grab something to eat before bowling? I saw a little cafe down the street.”

Henry feels his chest expand and suddenly getting out of the crowded bowling alley seems like the best idea ever. He nods and grabs his coat while Kurt puts his own back on. They walk in companionable silence to the cafe at the end of the street and it is mercifully empty except for a kind looking waiter around their age and what sounds like a cook in the back room kitchen.

“Hi!” The waiter smiles, “Have a seat wherever and I’ll be right with you.”

Kurt gestures to the back of the cafe and the pair sit opposite each other in a booth. By the time they take off their jackets and lay them down beside them the waiter is at their table with menus.

“Can I start you with a drink?” He asks.

“I’ll just have a coffee.” Kurt smiles.

“Same.” Henry says when the waiter looks at him. The waiter nods and then leaves them alone.

The pair is quiet once they are alone and Henry can feel Kurt’s gaze on him. Henry is more comfortable in the cafe but he’s still not COMFORTABLE.

“Can I ask you something?” Kurt asks softly. Henry nods but Kurt waits while the waiter puts down their drinks, says he’ll be back later to take their orders, and leaves before continuing, “Are you married?”

Henry chokes on the sip of coffee he is drinking and he sputters and coughs. Kurt waits with a slightly quirked eyebrow and smirk while Henry calms and then laughs, “No. No, I’m not married.”

Kurt smiles fully, “Okay. That’s good. For my purposes anyway.” He says, “Can I ask you something else?” Henry indicates for him to go ahead, “Is this the first time you’ve gone out with a guy?”

Henry lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’s been holding and can feel himself start to shake a little. Kurt folds his hands in front him lightly and just gives him a soft, open smile and slowly Henry calms enough to nod.

Kurt nods, “Well, don’t I feel special?” He says, swiping a hand over the chestnut swoop of hair on top of his head. The question makes Henry laugh which he assumes was the point and Kurt breaks character to chuckle with him.

“I’m sorry. I’m kind of a mess.” Henry says after a moment.

Kurt smiles, somewhat sadly, and shakes his head, “You’re not a mess. At all. And besides, you should have seen me at fifteen.” Kurt’s eyes widen briefly as if he’s remembering something terrible.

“Something tells me you were never a mess.” Henry says.

Kurt shrugs, “Well, okay, maybe you aren’t wrong.”

The pair chuckles and then smile at each other for a moment before Henry clears his throat, “I don’t really know what I’m doing but I...like spending time with you.”

Kurt nods, “Then that is what we shall do. Spend time together.” He makes a show of picking up the menu and opening it with a flourish before smiling over at Henry, “I like spending time with you too.”

Henry smiles and breathes easier than he has all day.

-- -- --

Over the next few weeks, final preparations for Amelia’s wedding are in full swing and the Anderson triplets are put to work doing everything from helping to make party favours (to which Alex had said: ‘We’re rich - can’t someone else make these?’), to helping create a playlist for the reception (‘Blaine, you need to help. Sam only wants country!’), to going to final tux fittings, among other things. They also spend a good portion of time planning their night out with Amelia. Alex is in charge of most of the planning for that but Blaine and Henry check in to make sure everything is under control and nothing planned is illegal.

They also spend more time with Kurt. Alex finds for the first time in his twenty-six years, he’s excited about the prospect of seeing where things go with only one guy. Henry is beginning to understand, and freak out less about, his feelings surrounding Kurt and he’s been dipping his toes into the experience (including but not limited to his first kiss with a man - a fact he only freaked out internally, and to Blaine, about a little bit). Blaine gets a breathless feeling whenever he thinks about Kurt, which is often, and he literally has to turn his phone off sometimes to keep from texting the other man continuously.

Somehow, even weeks later, none of them are aware that they are actually dating the same person...but they are all getting closer to asking Kurt to be their date for Amelia’s wedding.

“Hey Tiny?” Blaine asks one night as he and his sister sit in their parents’ living room tying bows onto plastic bags holding green and peach mints.

“Hmmm?” Amelia hums as she focuses on her current bow.

“Is it cool if I invite someone to your wedding?” Blaine asks.

Amelia looks up and lowers her hands, complete with bag and untied bow, to the table with a soft thud. Blaine had realized when he had thought of asking Kurt to the wedding, that because he’d never gotten an actual invitation (‘Your invitation is implied and your acceptance is non-negotiable’ Amelia had told the three of them) he wasn’t sure if he had been granted a plus one. Now, with Amelia looking at him with a shocked expression, he suddenly feels like a plus one had not been something she had intended to extend to him.

But then Amelia had slumped and hit him in the arm lightly, “Of course you can have a plus one!” She says and Blaine smiles before Amelia shrugs, “I had assumed you and Alex would bring someone and then felt bad for not assuming Henry would, so I just planned for three extra people just in case.”

Blaine chuckles, “Well I haven’t asked him yet but...thanks.”

Amelia smiles, “No thanks necessary, Blaine. But there is a condition to having a plus one.” Blaine’s eyebrows lift at his sister’s serious expression as she points at him, “You have to tell me about this amazing man who makes you smile like that.”

-- -- --

Blaine opens the door to his apartment later that week to find Kurt smiling at him from the other side. He smiles back and gestures for Kurt to enter. He watches as Kurt takes in the low lighting and candles on the table set for two in Blaine’s small kitchen.

“Wow! Colour me impressed.” Kurt says as he takes his jacket off.

Blaine chuckles softly and shrugs as he takes the proffered jacket and hangs it in the front closet, “I just wanted something a little...special.”

Kurt gives him a tiny, shy smile and Blaine smiles back before gesturing to the table, “Dinner’s ready so please, have a seat.”

Kurt smiles, “Mind if I wash up first? Subway germs.” He says, spreading his fingers in front of himself in a slight jazz hands motion.

Blaine chuckles, “Dastard subway germs.” He winks before gesturing down the hall, “Bathroom’s the second door on your right.”

Once Kurt has returned and is seated at the table, Blaine grabs the bottle of wine from the counter. He pours some into Kurt’s glass and his own while Kurt takes his napkin and lays it over his lap.

“Are you...planning to purpose tonight?” Kurt jokes when Blaine sits down after serving them each a bowl of pasta.

Blaine chuckles and shakes his head as he looks down at his lap, “It hadn’t crossed my mind, no.” He says looking back up at Kurt to find the other man smirking at him.

“Darn.” Kurt winks before lifting his glass and offering Blaine a toast, “To fancy non-proposal dinners.”

Blaine laughs again and clinks his glass with Kurt’s. They both take a sip, looking at each other over the rims of their glasses, before picking up their forks and beginning to eat.

Kurt moans at his first bite, “This is amazing!” He enthuses.

Blaine coughs at his body’s reaction to the moan before nodding, “Thanks. Old family recipe.”

“Well, if it wouldn’t make this whole situation completely inappropriate, I’d say I’d want to be your new brother just to get this recipe.” Kurt laughs.

Dinner passes with easy, flirtatious conversation and before long the pair is on the couch with their wine. They both have a leg pulled up and are sitting sideways, knees touching, and their bodies get closer and closer as they talk, and before long, they’re kissing.

They’ve shared quite a few kisses by this point but they never fail to take Blaine’s breath away. He curls in closer to Kurt and rests a hand on his thigh as they continue to kiss.

He pulls away after a moment and leans his head against the back of the couch. Kurt does the same and they stare at each other with soft smiles, “I wanted to ask you to be my date to my sister’s wedding.” Blaine whispers into the space between them.

Kurt’s eyes light up, “I love weddings!” He says.

Blaine squeezes Kurt’s thigh, still under his hand, lightly, “So does that mean yes?” He asks.

Kurt nods, “I’d love to.”

Blaine smiles before chuckling, “I guess I should tell you when it is in case you have a prior engagement.”

Kurt scrunches his nose adorably, “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

Blaine can’t resist leaning in to kiss Kurt’s lips at the expression and they kiss for another few moments before Blaine pulls away once more, “December 2nd.” He says.

“I’m there.” Kurt replies before lightly fisting his hand in Blaine’s shirt and pulling him forward.

-- -- --

Unlike Blaine, Alex had always assumed a plus one was just a given for him. He was sure he could find someone to go with to the wedding, and whether he went home with that someone, or someone from the wedding, well...he would just be keeping his options open. That, however, was before Kurt.

Kurt, who made Alex’s heart beat faster every time he thought of him. Kurt, who made Alex laugh and actually laughed at Alex’s jokes in return. Kurt, who was breathtakingly beautiful and enchanting in a way no other person had ever really been for Alex. Kurt, who made Alex understand what it meant to want monogamy for himself and not just as an idea that seemed to work for people like his parents and sister.

Kurt, who is biting his lip when Alex pulls open the door to his apartment and Alex wants to bite that lip himself. Until now there hasn’t been a lot of biting of any kind. Despite Alex’s usual MO, he and Kurt have done nothing more than share kisses, and Alex finds himself wanting more but being okay with waiting.

He must be growing up…

“Hey.” He smiles as he gestures for Kurt to come in.

“Hi.” Kurt whispers and Alex realizes that he’d been so focused on Kurt’s bit lip that he failed to notice how nervous Kurt is acting.

“Everything okay?” Alex asks as he sits on the couch and watches Kurt sit across from him and fidget with the end of his scarf that he hasn’t taken off.

Kurt takes a deep breath and looks up at Alex with a sad smile and Alex’s stomach drops in preparation for what he can sense coming.

“You’re ending this, aren’t you?” Alex asks before Kurt can say anything.

Kurt bites his lip again and turns to look at the coffee table in front of Alex’s couch. Silence stretches between them but Alex doesn’t know how to fill it. He’s never been in this situation before, and the longer Kurt remains silent, the more real the moment becomes. He’s being broken up with. And even though they were not serious (hadn’t even talked about exclusivity at ALL) it hurts in a way he’s never really had to deal with before.

“I’m so sorry.” Kurt finally says on an exhale.

Alex presses his lips together and nods, more to himself than to Kurt.

“It’s just...you weren’t the only guy I’ve been seeing,” Alex’s heart hurts a little at this admission even though he had just moments before contemplated their lack of exclusivity, “and things with the other guy have become more serious for me and I needed to make a decision.”

Alex nods again. He’s doing a lot of nodding.

Kurt looks back over at him with a sad smile, “I really like you, but...it just didn’t feel fair to keep going with this,” He gestures back and forth between them, “when I couldn’t give it 100%.”

Alex lets out a breath and chuckles, which causes Kurt’s eyes to widen slightly, “It’s fine.” Alex says flippantly, even though he feels anything but flippant. He waves a hand nonchalantly in front of himself, “We weren’t exclusive. We never talked about it. I do appreciate you letting me know, though.”

He kind of wants Kurt to leave. He’s not devastated? But he’s hurting more than he wants to in front of the man currently breaking things off with him. He almost laughs again when he remembers he had intended to invite Kurt to Amelia’s wedding tonight. How dumb would he have felt had he done that before Kurt broke things off?

“I really do like you.” Kurt says again.

Alex smiles, “I like you, too.” He says softly before coughing awkwardly, “But hey, good luck with the other guy. He’s...very lucky.”

Having never been in this position before, Alex isn’t sure how to act. He’s not sure that’s the right thing to say and Kurt’s awkward smile leads him to believe it probably wasn’t exactly the right thing, but Kurt does nod and then gets up.

“Thanks.” He says.

Alex walks him to the door and holds it open for him to leave - the shortest ‘date’ of Alex’s life.

Kurt smiles with a wave before starting to walk down the hallway, “Oh!” Alex exclaims and Kurt turns around in surprise. Alex leans out his door slightly and smiles, “And if things don’t work out with your other guy...give me a call?”

Kurt’s eyes widen slightly, again, and his awkward smile returns before he nods and waves again before making his way down the hall and to the elevators.

Alex sighs when he’s out of sight and leans his head against the door. Clearly not the right thing to say. Getting broken up with sucks. He doesn’t recommend it. He needs a drink.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts his brothers.

-- -- --

“Al…” Blaine says, coming up behind his brother who is sitting at the bar in Black Iron Burger the next day.

Alex turns with a sad smile and Blaine pats him on the back with a sad smile of his own before pulling him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, man.” Blaine sympathizes as he takes a seat next to Alex. He notices, briefly, that Henry hasn’t arrived yet before focusing back on Alex who shrugs and wraps a hand around the half drunk beer in front of him.

“Yeah, it sucks. I mean, it wasn’t like we were serious or exclusive, but I kinda thought it could get there.” Alex says before shrugging again and bringing his beer to his lips.

Blaine pouts his lips. He can tell that this guy was different for Alex. His brother has never called him to mourn the loss of a partner (aside from the one time he’d slept with a D-list celebrity and claimed he’d been ‘in love’ after one night but that they would never see each other again. ‘It’s like Romeo and Juilet!’ he’d, overdramatically, lamented). Blaine is the brother that gets attached. Alex isn’t. So to see him slumped slightly in defeat makes Blaine’s heart clench.

“He didn’t deserve you.” He says, laying a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

Alex smiles and chuckles lightly, “Yeah, maybe.” He says.

The conversation pauses so Blaine can order a drink and then the pair is quiet while they watch the football game playing over their heads. Blaine figures he’ll take his cue from Alex. He’s here for him after all.

Henry joins them a few minutes later looking more put together than he normally does for a get together with his brothers. Blaine notes, as he watches Alex and Henry hug, that while Henry is usually better dressed than Alex, he doesn’t put as much time into his look as Blaine does. Tonight, he looks polished and Blaine even notices cufflinks on the dress shirt he’s wearing. Even the fact that he’s wearing a dress shirt to meet with his brothers is slightly out of character for him.

Blaine shakes himself out of his thoughts as Henry turns to hug him and then orders a beer for himself.

“So what do you need from us tonight?” Henry says as he sits on Alex’s other side, “Do you want us to sit quietly and watch the game with you, demonize the horrible man who broke your heart, give you shoulders to cry on? Just let us know.”

Alex laughs softly and shakes his head, “I just wanted to see you guys and have a beer...or five. We can just chat.”

Henry nods as his beer is set in front of him. He lifts it slightly and tilts it toward the other two, “We can do that. Right, Blaine?”

Blaine nods and mirrors the gesture, “We can.”

The three clink their glasses together and each take a sip of their drinks before, simultaneously, replacing them on the bar top.

“Speaking of ‘chatting’,” Alex starts, “What’s got you dressed up so fancy? I know it can’t be me. My pain is not a formal occasion.”

Henry chuckles, nervously, as he adjusts his collar, “Uh, I actually have a date later.”

Blaine shoots Alex a nervous look at the admission, afraid of how his brother will react. But when Henry also shoots Alex a concerned look, the man in the middle chuckles, “Guys, I’m fine! I’m not going to break. We weren’t serious. I’m just slightly bummed and wanted to see you guys. I’m Alex. I don’t do ‘feelings’.”

Blaine knows he’s covering a little but trusts his brother to let them know how he’s feeling so he nods and turns back to Henry, “So, how are things going with your guy?”

He notices Henry blush slightly and smiles at the boyish way Henry shifts his eyes as he smiles, “Really well.” He admits and Alex whoops while Blaine smiles bigger, “I was actually thinking of inviting him to Tiny’s wedding. Do you think that would be...cool?”

“You should.” Blaine answers immediately, “No one will care he’s a guy, Henry.” He says, understanding why Henry is nervous, “They may be a bit surprised at first but they’ll just be happy for you.”

Henry nods and takes a deep breath, “You’re right.”

Alex lets out a breath, “So, Henry’s going to have a date to a family wedding. That hasn’t happened...ever.” He chuckles when Henry smacks him on the back of the head before continuing, “And we all know I’ll rally and invite some hot piece with me.” Henry and Blaine give the same ‘Of course’ hand gesture, “So, now we just have to find someone for baby brother.”

Blaine rolls his eyes at the moniker but then smiles, “I actually already have a date myself.”

Alex’s eyes widen and Henry lets out a low whistle, “The same guy you’ve been seeing?” Alex asks and Blaine nods with an even bigger smile, “Well, that’s great.” He says, offering his glass for another toast, “To each of us finding someone we want to hump.”

Henry and Blaine roll their eyes with their glasses held up but participate in the toast anyway.

“Oh! And to it being only two days until we take Tiny out!” Alex adds.

Blaine and Henry, more enthusiastically, cheers to that.

-- -- --

Henry feels his heart leap when he sees Kurt walking toward him. He had left Blaine and Alex at the bar a half hour ago after two hours of chatting and goofing around to meet Kurt for their date.

His teeth start to chatter and not because of the cold weather. He’s nervous. Alex was right. He’s never asked anyone to any of their family weddings. He hopes Kurt says yes!

Kurt’s face breaks into a smile when their eyes meet and Henry all but bounces on his toes when the other man gets closer.

“Hey!” He enthuses, swooping in to give Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. The desire to do so is still so new for Henry. It both excites him and terrifies him a little. He hasn’t really gotten the hang of casual intimacy with Kurt. Any physical interaction is usually initiated by Kurt. But Henry’s trying. He wants to try.

“Hey you.” Kurt says with a sigh, a white cloud of air following his words due to the cold weather.

“You look great.” Henry smiles.

Kurt smiles back, “So do you. Shall we walk?” He asks, gesturing down the street.

Henry loves that their dates are simple. They’ve been to the coffee shop a few more times and spent an afternoon in Central Park by the pond. Today their plan is to wander around the city and see if anything strikes their fancy. It may be a bit cold to do so? But Henry loves how uncomplicated and safe it feels. A lot less stressful than bowling - Henry is still berating himself for suggesting that to begin with.

The pair start their way down the street, walking close enough that their hands bump every once in a while but never really hold. Henry would like to hold Kurt’s hand, his fingers are flexing like a teenager on his first date, but he thinks he’ll wait and see if Kurt grabs first.

“How was drinks with your brothers?” Kurt asks.

Henry smiles, “It was nice. Alex just got his heart broken a little so we were cheering him up.”

Henry notices Kurt pauses at this, to the point where Henry walks a few steps ahead of him before he notices the lack of Kurt beside him. Henry turns back with a questioning eyebrow raised to find Kurt staring at him with slightly wide eyes. A second later, however, before Henry can ask, Kurt shakes his head with a chuckle and moves to walk next to the other man again.

“Sorry, I just thought...nevermind. It’s not important.” Kurt says with another shake of his head.

Henry nods in acceptance as they round a corner, “So, are you excited about your presentation on Monday?” It’s not what he wants to ask. He wants to ask Kurt to the wedding, but he figures he’ll work himself up to that.

Kurt sighs next to him and it sounds a little regretful to Henry. Which is strange considering the nature of his question. He’d thought Kurt would be excited about the presentation.

“Look, Henry, can we sit for a bit? I wanted to...talk to you about something.” Kurt says around a grimace and Henry doesn’t like the words or the expression but he nods and allows Kurt to lead him into a small, quiet coffee shop on the corner.

They each order a coffee, even though Henry suddenly has a lump in his throat and doesn’t think he’ll be able to drink it, and he shifts continually as Kurt unwinds his scarfs from his neck.

“What’s up?” Henry asks when he can’t take the quiet any longer. Trying for nonchalance and probably failing epically.

Kurt swallows and rests his hands first on the wooden table top, then in his lap, and then finally decides to reach forward and grab Henry’s hands across the table. Henry looks down at their hands and while he realizes this is what he wanted to happen not even ten minutes ago, the current mood isn’t what he had expected or wanted.

“I don’t really know how to tell you this.” Kurt begins and Henry blinks at him, waiting for what he knows is coming but hoping that’s not the case, “I...need to end things.” And there it is. Henry feels his stomach sink to his feet and his instant reaction is to pull his hands from Kurt’s. Kurt won’t let him go though and Henry doesn’t try too hard, “It’s nothing you did. You are amazing.” Kurt continues and Henry goes back to blinking at him, his mind already whirling as he tries to focus on what Kurt is saying.

“What happened?” He asks around dry lips.

Kurt gives him a sad smile and Henry wants to say it’s pitying and hate Kurt for it but...he can’t, “I haven’t just been seeing you and things with the other guy have gotten more serious. I didn’t think it would be fair to either of you to pretend that wasn’t the case.”

Henry intellectually knows that at twenty-six, people date multiple people until things become exclusive but...Henry doesn’t really date. He was exclusive with Kurt from the beginning. It hurts, however irrationally, that Kurt didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m so sorry, Henry.” Kurt continues, squeezing his hand.

Henry shakes himself out of his own head and looks at Kurt, who is continuing to smile sadly at him.

“Would you like me to go?” Kurt asks.

Henry swallows. Does he? He thinks he does. He nods before he can think too hard and Kurt squeezes his hand one more time before pulling away and grabbing his scarf.

He stands to wind it around his neck and then reaches into his pocket to put money down on the table for his undrank (and actually still undelivered) coffee.

“You really are amazing, Henry.” Kurt whispers.

Henry nods, tries to smile, and then Kurt is gone.

Henry lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He tries to tell himself that people break things off all the time. Hell, he’d just come from an Alex cheer up session for the exact same reason. He tries to tell himself that he and Kurt weren’t serious, regardless of Henry’s personal feelings on exclusivity.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like the very first guy to ever catch Henry’s attention, to make him question everything he thought about himself, just ended things right when Henry was thinking of taking things to the next level.

Henry lets out another heavy breath. Fuck.

-- -- --

“Okay, while I love that you guys took me out? I have to say this is kind of depressing.” Amelia says, carefully, two days later.

She’s seated on the arm of a couch in the VIP section of a swanky club, dressed to the nines in a purple sequined dressed and hair and makeup on point, and while she’s valiantly trying to maintain a buzz...she feels its a bit of a travesty that she has to TRY so hard. She should be drunk out of her MIND right now or at least on her way to it.

She’s not sure if the club is all the night holds, but the way things are going she’s not sure she wants to find out what else there might be.

The only other person actually trying to have fun is Blaine. He’s also dressed to the nines, his bowtie the perfect accessory and has been tweaked by admiring girls AND guys all night. The constant blush on his cheeks at the action is both adorable and endearing. Blaine is currently off buying them more drinks, however, leaving Amelia with Alex and Henry.

It’s the other two members of their party that are being giant party poopers. Alex and Henry are at least dressed nicely for the event but considering this is pretty much all Alex has talked about for months...their mood is definitely off.

“Sorry Tiny.” Henry sighs from where he sits on the couch next to where she is perched.

Amelia sighs, “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be happy!” She says, “Is whatever has the two of you down something you can maybe put aside for the night? Or is it something we can talk about, quickly, so we can move on? Because I’m pretty sure this night is costing you all a lot of money and...it’s my last night out with my boys before my wedding.” She doesn’t want to pout but...she’s the baby, and the only girl, and is used to using her pout to get what she wants.

Alex sighs, “I was ready to have a great night but then Henry had to go and get dumped, too, and...it reminded me how much that sucked.”

Henry lifts his hands, exasperatedly, as if to say it wasn’t his fault he got dumped a day after Alex did, “It’s not my fault I got dumped a day after you did!” He huffs and Amelia almost, almost giggles at her ability to read her big brothers.

Instead of giggling though, she sighs, “Look, guys, getting dumped sucks but get drunk and get on someone else! It’s not like you’d been dating these people for a year or more. You didn’t even tell your family you were dating them!”

Henry and Alex both stare at her after her exclamation and she would feel bad if she didn’t feel she was right. Henry’s mood makes the most sense. He doesn’t date and any seeming failure would be a blow to his dating confidence.

She’s most confused by Alex. Alex goes through men and women like they’re underwear sometimes. She’s confused why he would be so hung up on a guy he clearly didn’t feel serious enough about to introduce to his family.

“We’re sorry, Tiny.” Henry says.

Alex nods, “Yeah. We’ll try harder. This is your night.”

Amelia nods, glad to have them thinking the way she does, as Blaine comes back to the group.

“I’m pretty sure I counted four different people winking at me and/or touching my butt on the way to and from the bar.” Blaine says, setting their drinks down on the table in front of the couch.

Alex laughs as he reaches for his drink, cheersing slightly in thanks, “Well, you are looking very dapper this evening. But better watch it - your man might get jealous.”

Blaine chuckles, himself, as he takes a seat in a chair perpendicular to the couch the other three are sitting on, “Yeah, maybe I should have brought Kurt as protection.”

Amelia is looking at Blaine but becomes aware very quickly of how still the couch to her right has gotten. She turns to find Alex and Henry looking at Blaine but not in the casual way one might when another person is talking. They’re staring at him like he’s just said the most shocking thing they’ve ever heard.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Alex asks.

Blaine seems to catch on to their sudden mood and furrows his eyebrows and shifts as he answers, “That I should have gotten Kurt to come for protection. It was just a joke.”

“Kurt.” Henry says, flatly.

“Yeah. My….boyfriend?” Blaine says the last part questioningly. Amelia isn’t sure if it’s because he’s still confused by their brothers’ reactions, or because he’s not sure if the title is accurate for his relationship.

Either way, the clarification doesn’t seem to help Alex and Henry who continue to look at Blaine like he’s just stolen the last cookie (a criminal offense punishable by beatings from each other when they were kids).

Blaine chuckles nervously under the scrutiny, “What’s going on?”

Henry and Alex look at each other and then back at Blaine, and then back at each other. Amelia’s head is starting to hurt from confusion, but it looks like she’s not the only one who’s confused.

“What’s Kurt’s last name?” Henry asks.

“Hummel.” Blaine provides and again the space is silent which is hard to do considering the music pumping not far away.

“Oh god.” Henry moans, putting his head into his hands. Alex sits, frozen, staring at Blaine. Blaine, for his part, is looking back and forth between his brothers, and Amelia, with a look of distress on his face, unaware of the issue.

And then suddenly, Amelia gets it.

“Were you all dating the same guy?!” She exclaims.

Blaine’s head whips in her direction as Henry moans again.

“No, no, no.” Blaine says with a nervous chuckle as he looks at his brothers to agree.

Instead of confirmation however, Henry is still face planting into his hands and Alex looks murderous.

“No?” Blaine, feebly, tries again.

“I lost my chance to be with Kurt because of YOU?!” Alex yells and Blaine jumps back in his chair slightly at the loud exclamation.

Amelia gets up and puts her hands up in a calming gesture, “Now, just wait a minute. Let’s just...talk about this.”

“Did you know?” Alex accuses as he stares at Blaine.

“Of course not!” Blaine exclaims.

Alex scoffs like he doesn’t really believe his brother and fidgets on the couch. Henry hasn’t moved.

“I cannot believe this.” Alex huffs. He looks around the room before shaking his head and huffing again, “You know what? I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry, Tiny, but...I gotta go.”

Before Amelia can say anything, Alex is up out of his seat and out of the room. Blaine and Amelia watch him go, both looking distressed and confused.

“Henry?” Blaine asks after a moment, small and sounding very much like the ‘little brother’ Alex and Henry like to say he is.

Henry shakes his head before looking up, “I gotta...I’m sorry but I gotta...think about this.” He says and then he’s gone the same way Alex left.

Blaine and Amelia once again watch him leave and then turn and look at each other. Blaine looks close to tears and Amelia feels a tightness in her chest. She’s not sure how to fix what just happened, or even fully understand why it happened. She just knows that a night meant to celebrate very quickly turned into the very opposite of that, and she now has three brothers hurting.

She does the only thing she can think to do at the moment and moves to squish herself next to Blaine, pulling him to her and cuddling him close as they listen to the distant thump of music from the club on the other side of the wall.

-- -- --

Blaine feels like shit. It’s been three days since the disaster that was Amelia’s party and neither of his brothers are answering his calls. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t talk to his brothers for longer than a day, their almost constant back and forth something he took for granted until it suddenly wasn’t there.

He’s tried to text both of them multiple times but has not received a response from either.

He misses his brothers, but he’s also a little mad because he’s not sure their silent treatment/absence is justified. It’s not Blaine’s fault he met a guy. It’s not Blaine’s fault he and said guy grew close. And it’s not his fault that guy just so happened to also be dating his other two triplet brothers and decided to break it off with them.

None of this is his fault...but then why does he feel so guilty for seeking comfort in Kurt?

“I don’t know what to do.” He sighs, resting his chin on his folded arms which are resting on top of his kitchen island where he is sitting.

Kurt sighs from his spot next to him and leans over to kiss his shoulder before leaning his cheek on the same shoulder and smoothing a hand up Blaine’s back.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“I don’t know what to say or do to make any of this better with them.” Blaine continues.

Kurt hums and Blaine appreciates that while Kurt may not know what to say, he’ll listen.

When Blaine had first told Kurt that he had been inadvertently dating Blaine’s triplet brothers, Kurt had thought he was joking. No way did the universe work that way. But after Blaine showed Kurt a picture of himself with Alex and Henry, Kurt had been dumbfounded. He’d sputtered some words that didn’t make a lot of sense and looked like his mind was reeling with a million different emotions and thoughts all at once. In the end, he seemed to finally land on pity and sympathy for Blaine, and while Blaine doesn’t usually like to be pitied...in this situation, he’ll take all the pity and cuddles he can get.

The pair is quiet for a few moments, both in their own heads, before Kurt lets out a breath, “I still can’t believe I was dating three brothers.” Evidently Kurt’s not completely done being dumbfounded, “No, wait.” He says, straightening up, “Triplets. Triplet brothers. Close triplet brothers. Triplet brothers who are close.” He moves away from Blaine to circle to the other side of the island and Blaine immediately misses his closeness.

Kurt paces from one end of the island to the other and brings a hand to his forehead, “And I’ve now hurt all three of them.” He seems to be talking more to himself than to Blaine, “All three are hurting because of me. How did I get myself into this mess?”

Blaine watches him pace for another moment before sighing. His sigh seems to snap Kurt out of his own head and he leans across the island to rest his hands on Blaine’s folded arms, “Oh my God, I’m sorry. You don’t need me having a mental freak out. This is about you.”

Blaine sighs again, “You’re allowed to be confused too, Kurt. I don’t think there is a rule book on how to handle this situation.”

Kurt pouts his lips, “Yeah, but I’m not the one who isn’t talking to his brothers. I’m the one who caused it all.”

Blaine unwinds his arms and grabs Kurt’s hands properly, “It’s not like you planned this. It’s not like you went out in search of triplet brothers, who look nothing alike I might add, to mess with. You dated, you got close to someone, and did the right thing by breaking it off with the others you didn’t feel as close to.”

Kurt nods and squeezes Blaine’s hands, “I think some of that advice could be turned around and given to you.”

Blaine bites his lips together and nods. He can’t be blamed for getting close to someone. He can’t be blamed for not knowing his brothers just so happened to be dating that same someone.

“Should I feel guilty for being happy about how it turned out?” He asks.

Kurt sighs and shrugs slightly, “Only if I should, too.”

Blaine shakes his head. This whole situation was out of their control and he can’t deny how happy he is to be with Kurt. He’ll figure out a way to make things right with his brothers. Everything will turn out okay.

“I like you a lot.” Blaine says, apropos of nothing.

Kurt smiles at him from across the island before circling it again and coming to hug Blaine. Blaine settles his knees on either side of the taller man and leans his head against Kurt’s chest as he wraps his arms around his waist.

“I like you a lot, too.” Kurt whispers into Blaine’s hair.

Blaine enjoys the hug for a minute before pulling back and looking up at Kurt, “Should you still come to the wedding?”

Kurt bites his bottom lip and tilts his head, “Do you want me to still come to the wedding?”

Blaine squeezes the arms still around Kurt’s waist slightly, “Of course I do, but that’s not really the point right now. Would it just cause more issues?”

Kurt shifts his arms so his hands are resting on Blaine’s shoulders and he looks him in the eye, “I would love to come to the wedding with you. I would love to meet your family or, you know, the rest of your family?” He scrunches one eye shut and the question actually makes them both laugh softly before Kurt settles into a soft smile, “But I do not want to do anything else that will cause you, or your brothers, any more hurt.” Blaine starts to speak but Kurt shushes him lightly, “Yes, I know the first hurts were inadvertent, but they still happened.” Blaine sighs and nods, “I will go along with whatever you want. If you want me at the wedding, I’m there. If you’d rather me stay at home, I can do that too. But your decision will not change how I feel about you.”

Blaine stares up into Kurt’s eyes and his feelings for him deepen even further at Kurt’s words. Beyond the external drama, Blaine is a little shocked at how quickly his feelings for Kurt have developed over the course of their short relationship. He’s feeling things he thinks he probably shouldn’t yet, and while he’s not ready to announce them to Kurt...they’re enough to make his decision an easy one.

“I want you there.” He whispers into the space between them, looking back and forth between Kurt’s eyes because they are that close.

Kurt smiles and leans in to press a slow kiss to Blaine’s lips. Blaine sighs and leans into it, pressing his hands more firmly into Kurt’s back to draw the other man closer still.

The kiss is deep from the start and the only sound in the room is their breathing and the wet sound of their lips and tongues coming together. There is something deeply intimate about their position to Blaine and he can feel himself responding and his heart rate pick up.

Kurt’s hands settle on either side of Blaine’s neck and he tilts Blaine’s head ever so slightly and, oh, that angle is so much better.

They make out for another minute or two before Blaine pulls back sharply, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

“Did you…” He pauses, unsure he wants to ask the question. Kurt, who is slightly out of breath with his cheeks flushed standing between Blaine’s legs, looks at him in confusion. Blaine decides he needs to know, “Did you...sleep with either of my brothers?”

He knows he’s broken the mood they were just in, especially when Kurt’s confusion turns to laughter, but he knows he couldn’t continue until he knew.

Kurt leans his forehead against Blaine’s shoulder and laughs heartily into it. Blaine soon joins him and the pair laugh in each other’s arms.

Kurt lets out a breath and hums to calm himself before pulling back and shaking his head, “No. No, I did not.”

Blaine brings a hand up to his forehead and wipes it dramatically, “Phew. I just had this mental image of you comparing our dicks and just...no.” He says and it causes them both to chuckle. Blaine scrunches one eye shut and looks up at Kurt, “Sorry for...ruining the mood.”

Kurt hums again, looks up at the ceiling as if considering, and then shrugs, “It’s okay. Probably wouldn’t be the best idea to sleep together right now. Maybe we should...wait.”

Blaine intellectually knows Kurt is right, but it’s hard to tell his body and heart that.

“We’ll have time.” Kurt whispers, leaning to press a soft kiss to Blaine’s lips.

Blaine closes his eyes and groans softly as Kurt pulls away, “We will.” He agrees.

-- -- --

“Hey. Hey Blaine.” Alex slurs a day later into his phone. He’s wobbling outside of a bar in the West Village and he thought calling Blaine would be the BEST thing to do at this particular moment, “Hey Blaine. Oh wait, I already said that. But hi. I’m mad at you. I think. Shouldn’t I be?” He scrunches up his nose and makes eye contact with another man on the sidewalk who looks at him with a quirked eyebrow and keeps going, “Yeah, I think I’m mad. You stole Kurt. You stole Kurt and his..and his penis!” He exclaims. Two young girls, in the process of passing Alex on the street, jump at the volume and then giggle as they speed walk away, “I had plans for that penis. Big plans because well...I’m sure it would have been big if you know what I mean.

“But you took him and I’m mad.” Alex sighs and then sits on the sidewalk, “And a little sad. I’m...I’m...I’m smad.” He pouts his bottom lip out and adopts a glare before giggling at his attempt to look sad and mad at the same time, “I don’t want to be smad. But I really wanted that penis. And the man it was attached to. But now you have the penis. And I just...I’m smad.”

-- -- --

Kurt’s not entirely sure why he’s here. Technically, he understands the logistics of being here, Blaine’s little sister’s rehearsal dinner, but he isn’t entirely sure he made the right decision agreeing to come.

Blaine had asked him to come. Or rather, Blaine’s sister, Amelia, had asked Blaine to ask him to come. Her thinking was that her family could meet Kurt in a less formal setting first, as opposed to having their first meeting be at her wedding (Blaine had said her exact words were ‘If you cause unnecessary drama at my wedding, I will burn all your bow ties’).

So here Kurt stands, in an admittedly fabulous outfit, next to Blaine outside the restaurant the rehearsal dinner is being held at. They are both fidgeting and side-eyeing each other.

The next time they catch each other's eyes, they both chuckle at the same time.

“Thank you for coming.” Blaine says.

Kurt shrugs, “From the sounds of things I didn’t REALLY have a choice. I haven’t even met Amelia yet and she seems like a force to be reckoned with.”

Blaine nods, “She can be.” He says on a sigh before looking back at the restaurant, “Ready?”

Kurt’s not sure he is, but he nods anyway, and the pair make their way toward the front door.

The hostess leads them to the private room the rehearsal dinner is being held in and Kurt is instantly hit with the sheer amount of people inside the relatively small room. Kurt’s not an introvert, by any means, but faced with a room of people he doesn’t know...including the family of his new boyfriend...he finds himself swallowing, thickly.

And then he remembers that everyone in this room isn’t a stranger and his eyes widen when the first people he lays eyes on are Henry and Alex. They’re hard to miss, right inside the door and talking to a short woman who, based on her physical features, can’t be anyone but their sister, Amelia.

The opening of the door draws their attention and the five of them (Alex, Henry, Amelia, Blaine, and Kurt) freeze. Kurt had kind of hoped to avoid any awkward interactions, but clearly luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“Hey!” Amelia says after a moment, breaking the silence and moving towards the pair, “You must be Kurt!” She’s hugging him before Kurt can even take his eyes off of Alex and Henry, and he hugs her back while still looking at them. Henry looks nervous and Alex’s eyes have narrowed slightly. Kurt coughs and looks away and down at the spitfire of a woman still hugging him

“Yeah. Hi. You must be Amelia. Nice to meet you and congratulations.” He says with a nervous blush rising on his cheeks.

Amelia steps back and hugs Blaine to her, who looks faintly ill as he looks beyond at his brothers.

“Thanks!” She enthuses, “Though I’m kind of glad the wedding is tomorrow. Whoever said planning a wedding was fun obviously hasn’t planned one before.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs, and while Kurt has been planning his wedding since he was six and can’t wait to put the plan into action, he laughs with her because he doesn’t want to be rude.

And then suddenly it’s like Amelia either can’t ignore the tension between the four men in the room, or she just realizes it, and looks between all four of them with a look of apprehension. When no one else speaks or even looks at one another, she sighs and puts her hands on her hips.

“This is ridiculous. Hug. Each. Other!” She orders with a glare at each of her brothers.

Blaine, Alex, and Henry all seem to collectively pout, but none move to follow the order of their little sister. Kurt’s pretty sure the order didn’t extend to him but...it’s so awkward he’s actually considering just going for it and hugging someone.

Amelia rolls her eyes before grabbing Blaine’s elbow, “All right. We are going to talk this out like the adults we all pretend to be. That way you can go back to normal and not ruin my wedding.”

She gestures for Alex and Henry to follow her and it appears this order they will follow. Kurt is simultaneously glad to no longer have to deal with this awkwardness, but also a little terrified that Blaine is about to leave him in a room full of strangers.

The siblings are almost out of the room when Amelia stops and turns back to Kurt with a raised eyebrow, “Are you coming?”

Kurt’s eyes widen in surprise and terror. His presence is required?

Amelia gives him a pointed stare before leading her brothers from the room. Kurt hesitates, momentarily, before deciding staying with Blaine is probably the best course of action (and not angering Amelia any further) and following them out to a quiet section of the restaurant.

For the second time this evening, Kurt wonders how he ended up here.

“All right.” Amelia starts as she looks at her brothers in front of her. The four men are standing in a loose square, with Kurt awkwardly standing to Blaine’s right, “You all need to get over this. I should not be feeling anxious over YOUR love lives and especially not the day before the most important day of MY life.”

Alex crosses his arms over his chest and pouts, “This is all Blaine’s fault.”

Amelia throws her hands up in the air in exasperation but it’s Blaine who answers, “Are you seven?” He asks, incredulously, and the question just makes Alex’s arms cross tighter, “Because that’s how you’re acting. This is like the time mom and dad bought us scooters for our birthday and you got pissed that I got the red one because you wanted the red one.”

Kurt furrows his brow, “Are you likening me to a scooter?”

His question goes unanswered as Alex huffs indignantly, “I really liked him!” He defends.

Blaine rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I got that much from the message you sent me. You know, at first I felt sort of bad for what happened, that maybe it WAS my fault. But it’s not really. I just met a guy and fell in…” He hesitates and Kurt turns to him wide eyed. Blaine swallows thickly and doesn’t meet Kurt’s eye before continuing, “I really didn’t need you talking about how much you want my boyfriend’s dick. Now I’M mad.”

Kurt’s wide eyes widen further before moving to look at the ground. He feels his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed flush. He’s not really shy when it comes to sex related topics like he was in high school, but something about this situation just makes it all the more strange.

The space they’re in goes quiet and Kurt isn’t sure if anyone is going to break the silence. He doesn’t really want the last thing said in this trainwreck of a conversation to be about his penis.

He coughs and all heads swivel toward him. He blinks at each face before landing on Blaine’s and biting his lip, “I...think I’m going to go.” He says, and it’s not until it’s out of his mouth that he realizes he had wanted to say those words.

Blaine’s eyes widen and he steps closer, grabbing Kurt’s hand, “Please don’t.” He whispers.

Kurt looks quickly at the other faces in the space before focussing back on Blaine. He really doesn’t want to say this with Blaine’s brothers and sister in the room, but again his mouth acts before his brain can catch up, “I don’t want to come between you and your family.” He whispers, pleading with his eyes for Blaine to understand.

Blaine shakes his head, “You aren’t.”

Kurt smiles sadly, “I am. I just...can’t be the reason why three brothers are fighting.” He looks around the room again, the other three faces looking on curiously, before turning back to Blaine who looks pained, “I’m sorry.” He whispers and then pulls his hand out of Blaine’s, “I’m...sorry.” He says a little louder to Alex, Henry, and Amelia, before he turns and walks out of the restaurant.

The fact that his heart hurts when he hits the parking lot doesn’t go unnoticed.

-- -- --

Amelia’s wedding is a beautiful, elegant affair the next day. The flowers arrive on time, no one trips down the aisle, Amelia and Sam both tear up during their vows, and if anyone notices the slightly subdued nature of the three men of honour...they don’t comment.

Blaine thinks he and his brothers do a pretty good job at keeping it together during the ceremony and pictures. They act like nothing's wrong and even their parents don’t seem to pick up on the fact that there is a giant elephant in the room.

During the reception, the three of them deliver their joint speech flawlessly (complete with jokes, heartfelt memories, and perfectly timed segways) and Blaine gives a sigh of relief when Amelia beams at them from her seat beside her new husband.

It’s not until the dancing begins that Blaine really lets his mask drop. He finds a seat at an empty table and nurses a glass of wine. He rests his forearms on his legs and lets the glass dangle between his knees.

Kurt was supposed to be here. Blaine was supposed to be introducing his new boyfriend to his family, cuddling up on the dance floor during sappy wedding slow songs, and maybe getting a little drunk and handsy. Instead, he’s spent the day pretending he isn’t hurting.

He sighs as the song changes (it’s a pretty damn good playlist if he says so himself) before he sees black out of the corner of his eye. He closes his eyes, ready to put on a brave face for whatever family member has decided to descend upon him, only to look up to find Henry standing in front of him.

“May I?” His brother asks, gesturing to the seat next to Blaine. Blaine nods and straightens slightly, something in the back of his mind finding it wrong that Henry feels he needs to ask permission to sit next to his brother.

Henry sits next to him with a sigh and looks out over the dance floor. Blaine realizes in that moment that Henry has been pretty quiet since they found out about their shared dating experience. He hasn’t said much on the issue or expressed his feelings in any way. Blaine really hopes he’s not about to get into a shouting match at their sister’s wedding.

“I freaked out.” Henry says. Blaine turns to look at him but Henry is still looking out at the dance floor, “Kurt was the first guy to ever make me feel something like that, and then suddenly he was calling things off to be with you, and I had this giant crisis. Had everything I felt been a lie? An experiment? For nothing?” He shakes his head before sighing again and looking at Blaine, “But my feelings have nothing to do with you and Kurt. None of this is your fault, Blaine. And I’m sorry if I made you think it was.”

Blaine sucks in a deep breath through his nose and holds it for a second before letting it out. He had been expecting tension, not an apology. He also can’t believe he didn’t think to check in on his brother. Of course he’d be analyzing what it all meant.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask how you were feeling about all of...that.” Blaine says.

Henry shrugs before smiling, “It’s okay. It’s not like me overthinking and freaking out is a NEW experience.”

Blaine chuckles softly, “Still. I should have asked. Are you...okay with everything?”

Henry nods looking out over the dance floor again, “I think I am. Or at least...I’m getting there. Maybe Kurt will be the only guy to do anything for me and maybe not. I’m willing to keep my options open.”

Blaine smiles and nods, “Good.” He says.

“I’m growing as a person.” Henry says, dryly, and they chuckle lightly. Henry turns back to Blaine and lays a hand on Blaine’s knee, “How about you? Have you heard from Kurt?”

The question makes Blaine’s chest hurt a little before he shakes his head, “Not since he left yesterday.”

Henry nods, “He’ll come around.” He says, encouragingly.

Blaine bites his lip to keep from either rambling or crying. He doesn’t want to do either. He’s not even sure how he truly feels or what he would even say...though he guesses when you ramble it’s less important what it is you actually say.

He ends up just shrugging and the pair go back to watching the happy people on the dance floor.

“Amelia is beautiful today.” Blaine muses.

“She really is.”

Blaine jumps slightly because it’s not Henry who responds. Both men turn in the seats to see Alex standing behind them. He’s got his hands in his pockets and his head tipped down, looking at them through his lashes.

“Hey, can I...talk to you?” He asks Blaine.

Blaine looks at Henry, who shrugs, before Blaine nods and gets up. He passes his glass to Henry and then follows Alex out of the ballroom into the main lobby. He’s not sure if he and Alex are about to fight again, and he’s not entirely sure if he WANTS to fight again, but all speculation flies from his brain when he sees Kurt standing by chairs in the lobby.

Blaine stops walking and stares open mouthed. He looks back and forth between Alex, who has also stopped halfway between Kurt and Blaine, and Kurt who is standing with his hands in his pockets and biting his lip.

“What…?” Blaine starts.

Alex sighs, “I called Kurt. Explained to him that I’m kind of an ass sometimes. But hey, it’s part of my charm.” He says with a wide, cheeky smile, before sobering again, “None of this was either of your faults. None of this was any of our faults. But what is MY fault was how I reacted to it.” He turns more fully to Blaine, “I’m sorry. I’m no longer mad, I’m no longer sad, and none of that should have been directed at you.”

Blaine nods with a slow smile. He doesn’t really know what else to do right now other than to hug his brother. He’s opened his arms and begun to move toward him when Alex puts his hand up to stop him.

“Just wait, I’m not done. We can hug it out in a minute.” He says.

Blaine’s brow furrows in confusion but he does stop and watches as Alex turns toward Kurt, “I wanted to say sorry to you too, Kurt. I should never have treated you that way...even over a voicemail to my brother.”

Kurt’s eyes are wide as if he wasn’t expecting an apology before he nods.

Alex nods too and then turns to Blaine, “All right. You can hug me now.” He says, opening his own arms.

Blaine chuckles before closing the distance and wrapping his arms around his brother, “I’m sorry for all of this.”

Alex pulls back, “You have nothing to apologize for. You met a boy and you fell in…” He pauses with a knowing smirk and Blaine blushes and diverts his eyes for a second, “I was the only one who had to apologize. And I did.” He smiles, “I must be growing as a person.”

Blaine smiles at the statement Henry said to him minutes before, though as opposed to sarcastic, Alex seems proud.

“You are.” Blaine agrees.

Alex tilts his head in Kurt’s direction, “Go get your man. I’m going to go see if Sam’s friend Mike is single and open to the attention of men.” He waggles his eyebrows and Blaine laughs. Still the same old Alex.

Alex pats Blaine on the arm and then he’s gone, back into the ballroom. When the door closes behind him, Kurt and Blaine are left in silence.

Blaine walks slowly toward him, “Hi.” He whispers when he’s close.

Kurt bites his lip again and smiles, “Hi.”

“So...” Blaine looks around as if he’s searching for something, “You...aren’t coming between me and my brothers anymore. Not that you actually were, but now you DEFINITELY aren’t.”

“It would appear that I’m not.” Kurt agrees with a nod.

“So…” Blaine says again, “does that mean anything for...us?”

Kurt shrugs and looks around the lobby for a moment. Blaine’s stomach drops at the shrug, but when Kurt turns to him with a smirk, Blaine’s stomach fills with hopeful butterflies.

“Come here.” Kurt says, grabbing Blaine by the tie and pulling him forward into a kiss.

Blaine melts into it and he’ll blame the stress and uncertainty on the needy moan he lets out.

They’re just getting into a groove, and Blaine may or may not be thinking about a place in this building they could go to truly be alone, when a ‘whoop’ sounds from behind them.

They both jump and pull apart, looking at each other with wide eyes before turning simultaneously toward the ballroom to find Henry, Alex, and Amelia leaning out of the door with wide smiles on their faces.

“Yay Blainers!” Amelia claps and Blaine and Kurt chuckle at her enthusiasm.

Henry puts a hand on his sister’s shoulder, perhaps in an effort to calm her, and Blaine feels his heart fill with happiness as his three siblings beam at him from the doorway.

Henry pulls slightly on Amelia’s shoulder and the pair turn to go back into the ballroom. Alex remains in the doorway, and while he looks to where his sister and brother just disappeared, he turns back to Blaine and he once again waggles his eyebrows with a wink. A moment later, Henry returns and pulls Alex back to the ballroom.

Blaine can hear Alex complaining about missing the good part before he turns back to a smiling Kurt with a smile of his own. He takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Kurt’s hand, “Do you...want to come meet the rest of my family?”

Kurt squeezes his hand and jiggles it lightly, “I would love to.”

Blaine didn’t think his smile could get any bigger, and yet he feels his cheek muscles stretch even further, before he tugs on Kurt’s hand and leads him to the ballroom.

The End

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #glee potluck big bang #my loves #my stuff #3 on 1

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dadolorian · 4 years ago

Text

Just like me- Part one

A/N: this is the first time i have ever shared a fic to tumblr. Credits: Thank you @oloreaa for being my Beta reader/editor !

Title: Just Like me Fandom: Prospect (2018) Ship: Ezra/Reader Warning: Talk of injuries/amputation. Ezra and reader get to know each other. Reader is an amputee. No use of Y/N. Word count: 3K +

MASTER LIST Request status AO3 Link Next part. - coming soon

Prospecting was a dangerous job sometimes.

You were proof enough for that.

Some would ask why bother with the risk, but they can not understand.

The thrill and joy of finding and securing your payload, the rush you got for a job well done, the chance to drift about to new and wondrous places, was more than worth the risk in your eyes.

And the pay, well, when you had a good job, the pay more than made up for the dangers of prospecting.

You could almost guarantee that after each run your account would be filled up with more points than what you started with. And once you paid off the rental of your pod and supplies, more often than not you made a decent enough profit if things didn’t go tits up.

It was fair to say you were a decent enough prospector, maybe not the most experienced,but you had a decent enough excuse for that. Until a few months ago you were in recovery, having injured yourself on the last run of jobs you had been on before your current drop onto the Green.

Arguably, you could have retired after your injury. Caused a big enough fuss to get some serious compensation, but that would have meant giving up chasing the rush.

At heart, you were a wanderer, a floater, and you couldn’t settle just yet.

Of course, after the accident you couldn’t just swing back to it. You needed to recover, and medical bills were expensive, not to mention you couldn’t let your employers get away with their gross negligence that caused the accident to begin with, so you had come to an agreement.

It worked out for both of you, you get to keep your lifestyle and be financially secure at the same time, and they didn’t have to go through a public court battle.

Your last, and most recent swing had been average, ending with a gig on the Green, you had just caught the ride back home.

Your routine getting back aboard was always the same, even after such a longtime. Say goodbye to your (temporary) partner, sell your Aurelac, drop your belongings in your bunk and take a shower.

Thanks to your hush contract, you had the luxury of a second class bunk this time around, not having to rely on sleeping in your drop ship. It was bigger, private, had its own bathroom and all free of charge for you. Some perks for not choosing to sue.

A new, and rather annoying addition to your routine now would be to check into the medical bay, the only reason your doctors had allowed you back to work was that you agreed to regular check-ups when you weren’t on a gig.

So, a few days later, having waited for after the rush of people docking to catch the last swing to die down, you made your way to the medical wing for a drop in appointment.

Even though the waiting room was empty, you were forced to wait.

You sat down at an observational window, passing the time by watching the stars as the ship flew by them.

Lost in the view for an unknown amount of time, the sound of the door caught your attention, that familiar hiss of them opening and shutting.

You turned to make eye contact with the other patient… another amputee, just like yourself. You took note of his face, a small scar on the left cheek, the prominent nose, a streak of blonde in his otherwise dark and slightly scruffy hair, square jaw, and short facial hair. He was certainly handsome, even with his slightly disheveled appearance.

His right arm was gone, you noted, just below the shoulder. His stump was well bandaged, you didn’t feel guilt about staring at his injury, you were one in the same after all, but he seemed to mind.

He tried to subtly turn himself away from your inspection so his left side was facing you more, a little self-conscious over his injury, it would seem.

You gave him a warm smile, trying to ease his embarrassment a little by pulling up your right pant leg to show him your prosthetic.

A silent way of telling him you were one in the same.

It seemed to have worked, for he visibly relaxed a little, returning your smile as he found a place to sit close by after checking in.

He hesitated, looking like he wanted to ask you something. He was lost in his thoughts for a short while before you decided to speak first.

“Recent amputation?” You asked, giving him another smile.

“Yeah, happened less than a cycle before catching the swing back,” he said

You nodded to yourself “Looks pretty fresh. You don’t look quite comfortable with it yet either”

“No, indeed I am not.” He sighed “May i ask... if I were to inquire about your own heretofore displayed impairment, would you have any issue in disclosing what had caused your own injury to me?” He asked , eyes roaming over your face, small crooked smile tugging at his lips

Did he swallow a fucking thesaurus? You thought to yourself, leaning back in your window seat. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours first.” Tilting your head, you looked him in the eyes.

“I asked first,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, you did. Seems rude to ask my story without offering yours first,” you said, the smile that was on your face letting him know you weren’t actually bothered.

“Very well,” he said, sitting back into his chair, getting comfortable by throwing his one arm over the back of it. “I was shot by a little bird. Scared kid who was completely justified in her actions, so I do not find myself with much blame towards her." Something like regret flitted over his face, but it was quickly gone as he launched himself into the story." I had originally been the cause of her predicament becoming much direr than it currently was, so she fired upon me in what she believed to be defense despite my lack of intentions to harm her."

He then gestured to his shoulder, and gave a half shrug as his brows drew together." Sad truth is it became inflamed , dust had entered my wound and I was not able to treat it accordingly. Before I knew it, infection set in and I eventually had to make the onerous decision to amputate it before it spread to the rest of my body.” Smile wry, he made a gesture at you like 'What can you do?', the corner of his expressive eyes crinkling slightly.

“You did it yourself?” You winced.

“Naw, Little lady who shot me became quite the welcomed, albeit reluctant, ally. Managed to do it all herself, cool as a cucumber." He huffed to himself, amused, before continuing: "Wish I could say the same for myself, I was wracked with nerves during the whole procedure.” He looked at you, a self-deprecating tone in his voice that was offset by the hawk-sharp look in his eyes.

“Ah, well at least you’re not bullshitting your bravery,” you huffed, before backtracking to what he said, eyes becoming wide as saucers. “So, you were conscious?” You asked in shock.

“Regrettably so. We did not have the luxury of professional medical facilities such as this.” He gestured around.

“I’ve heard some nasty amputation stories over my time recovering, and it’s always the ones where they are conscious that bother me the most,” you explained, feeling ever so slightly queasy at the thought.

“And…what about yourself?” He asked.

“Unfortunately for you I am not allowed to tell my whole story." You smiled at him, holding up your hands. "An unnamed private business was responsible for an accident in which I can’t disclose legally. Had to sign a lot of papers,” you sighed at that, unable to keep your annoyance out of your voice, before continuing. ”What I can tell you was I was in an accident involving machinery. I broke everything below my waist, most of it was healed, but my right leg was the worst. Completely crushed. When I was pulled out, the limb had undergone some extreme tissue damage." You paused for half a second, mind wandering. "They tried to save it, but there was nothing that could be done,” you explained with a slightly dismissive shrug. His brow was furrowed, looking at the prosthetic slightly exposed at the ankle in thought. “You seem to handle it quite well” He said eventually. You took a closer look at him. Bags under his eyes, avoiding prolonged eye contact with you, lethargic body language. It was recent for him, you concluded, he was still traumatized. Not that you blamed him. “A lot of people say that, ” you said, wanting to give him some hope and comfort, his eyes seemed so sad, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be the support you had needed yourself when you were in his position. “It’s gotten easier, but I can’t lie and say I’m not still affected by it anymore. There are days where I continue to struggle. But each day gets easier. They will get easier for you too.” You looked him straight in the eyes, face serious. You needed him to understand that you were not simply saying things, that it was something that you had experienced yourself. He gave you a skeptical look, silently challenging that notion. “I know, I know,” you sighed, looking down to the floor before meeting his gaze again. “It’s hard to believe right now, but it’s true. You’ll struggle, but that means you’ll learn and adapt. You’ll get there.” Giving him a big smile, you hoped that some of your words will stick. .

“If I can be honest, I’ve already gotten sick of hearing those words of encouragement from my doctor. It seems so hollow and disingenuous when he says it, like a fallacy. It feels infantilizing to have him repeat his mantra over, and over again, and frankly, I struggle to believe it." He scoffed slightly, before quieting. Looking at you, head slightly tilted, he continued. "But coming from you, someone who has been in my own shoes, so to speak, I feel inclined to believe there is some truth behind those words, even if I do find myself skeptical about them,” he said, brows drawn together, eyes roaming across your face. . You shrugged lightly. “It usually helps, knowing someone who’s gone through the same thing. A friend.” “And is that what you are offering me? A friendship?” He asked, an amused smile gracing his lips and a curious look in his tired eyes.

You shrugged again “I think that depends on you. But, at the very least, I can be an understanding ear, and I'm willing to listen. If you’re interested that is.”

He cocked his head slightly at you, a small smile playing around his lips, “I…” he began, choosing his words “ I appreciate the offer. It would be nice to have someone who will listen to my long-winded nammerings without judgment or pity.”

“No pity… just…sympathy, compassion,” you offered.

“I think, then, I would like that very much. So long as you promise not to grow weary of my contemplation's”

You gave him an amused huff. “I think with the way you talk, it would be very hard to be bored.”

“Very well, annoyed then.” He smiled and you laughed at his small joke.

You were content to sit there and chat to him more about anything and everything, but unfortunately for the two of you your conversation was interrupted by the receptionist calling your name. “That you?” He asked. “Yup” You sighed standing up reluctantly. ”It was nice to meet you…?” “-Ezra,” he supplied. “Ezra,” you repeated, testing it out. It suited him. “I hope I can see you around then, I mean it, having someone who understands how to help would really benefit you.” “I know, thank you. I’ll have to take you up on it soon.” He smiled, giving you a small wave as you left the waiting room for your check up.

It surprised you to find him waiting outside the medical wing for you when you finished with your appointment. He was leaning back against the wall trying to look nonchalant. “How the fuck did you get out before me?” You asked with a smile, pleasantly surprised. He had a small smile of relief on his face,“I only went for a bandage change,” he said, waving his stump a little to show. “I hope you are not too put off by my waiting here. I fear i may come across as overzealous.” “It’s fine, don’t worry about it” You smiled, shaking your head in indication you didn't think that way of him. “Sorry you had to wait so long. If I had known you were waiting I might have tried to hurry things along.” “It’s not a problem," Ezra insisted "I didn’t really have plans to do anything, and I was hoping for a better chance to talk to you." He gave a boyish smile, and you could not help but being charmed a bit. "Perhaps in the mess hall, if you would be so inclined to join me?” You nodded in understanding and agreement. “Fair enough, I suppose. How’s it healing then?” You asked, motioning to his stump. “As well as it can be. My doctor is worried about my exposure to further infection so it's being heavily monitored. Daily changes at the moment.” “That gets boring fast,” you said, motioning for him to follow you as you made your way to the mess hall. “I am very much in agreement with you there, I must say," He said "I have only been on board for a few days and I am already finding myself bored and frustrated with the routine,” Ezra sighed slightly, annoyance in his voice. “Just wait until you get a prosthetic. Then you’ll be in there for ages,” you snickered before you realized something. ”Are you wanting a prosthetic?” You asked. “I don’t think I would be able to even consider choosing not to invest in one." Brows furrowed, he looked at you. "I can not even fathom how i would be able to continue on in my career without the use of my arm.” “Quite the investment, if you want one good enough to act as a full replacement. I would have to imagine they would cost more than a prosthetic leg.” “That's what the doc said. I am a little overwhelmed with decisions because he keeps showing me all these different options that I cannot quite distinguish from each other." Frustration was written all across his face and in his voice. "I had not realized it would be so complicated.” He sighed, sounding a little dejected. “I’d be more than willing to offer my help in that then,” you offered, “It's best to figure out your needs and work backwards from there.”

“You are surely a godsent from the heavens themselves,” he chuckled, you ignored the way his compliment and laugh made your stomach flip. “I am simply wise counsel,” you joked, making him chuckle more. “Either way, your offers of help in all kind of regards is much appreciated. I do not feel quite so daunted towards my own recovery now." Ezra smiled at you brightly, and you smiled back. "I thank you for your kindness, a rarity i fear in this line of work sometimes.” “Not wrong there,” you sighed knowingly as the two of you entered the mess hall. It was quiet, given the time of day, a little too early for those wanting their lunch that wasn’t from a ration or nutrient pack. You preferred it like this anyway.

The food wasn’t amazing, neither of you were first class citizens but it was damn better than the food you were all able to store on your pods and ships. A hot meal of any kind was sought after on these kinds of trips, even if it was just hot mush.

You filled up your tray alongside Ezra, watching him curiously as he easily filled his tray as he pushed it along, the hard part would be maneuvering to a table. You weren't going to offer him any physical help, not yet at least. Giving him the space to learn and adapt would do him better than to dote on him. You remembered how frustrating it was, but you also remember how equally frustrating it was to be physically dependent on others.

You would not offer him help with physical things unless he asked.

Regardless, he managed it, balancing his tray on one arm as the two of you made your way over to an empty table. You pulled your chair out and he kicked his out before you both sat down.

“I think I like coming here earlier,” he said, looking around. “Less people means less well meaning individuals offer to help me out,” he said, tucking into whatever food he had piled on his tray. “I hope that doesn’t make me sound ungrateful. I appreciate help but I do not want to be treated like someone completely invalid, the idea of not being able to take care of myself physically is a wretched notion.” “No, I get ya,” you said, understanding. “You need to do things for yourself. You value your independence, and when people dote on you like that, you feel pitied, your independence feels invalidated. You start to resent the ‘help’ because of it.” “A perfect way to describe the mix of feelings I have found myself with over these past few days,” he agreed, looking at you, chewing on his food “Just wait until you get your prosthetic” You smiled “You’ll be able to hide it well under a long sleeve and no one would be able to tell” “Well if you are any indication to go by, i am more than willing to believe that," He said "If i had not known you were missing a part of yourself beforehand, i would not have been able to tell just from watching you walk. It's impossible to notice at a glance” He complimented, smiling, eyes dropping slightly wistfully. “Thank you, I was fueled purely by spite in my recovery” You said, your smile growing. He laughed “Why, I am truly inclined to believe you." He grinned at you, smile sharp and endearing all the same time. "I shall take that to heart in my own recovery and take inspiration from you.”

There the two of you sat in the mess hall with him what felt like hours. You found him so easy to talk to and could not help but be entertained by the way he spoke and whatever story he told you. You had found yourself hanging onto his every word, and when you spoke he made you feel like the center of the universe. Your conversations drifted between your shared physical disabilities as well as more personal topics, to get to know each other a little better. You spoke about the places you had visited, the difficult jobs, and your shared love of books. You couldn’t remember the last time you had such a pleasant conversation with another prospector. Most of your interactions were your temporary partners or hostile ‘competition’, there was never any opportunity to share in such deep conversations.

When the two of you reluctantly parted ways, you made sure to let him know where to find you in the second class quarters should he feel inclined to want to speak to you again.

He assured you very much that he was definitely interested in seeing you again. You felt like a teenage girl at that and as you said your goodbyes, hiding a bashful smile as he promised he would come find you again soon.

#my fic #JLM #prospect #prospect 2018 #ezra #ezra from prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x ofc #ofc

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brokemypen · 4 years ago

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Missing Piece

Twilight AU Series Part 2

Jasper had been gone for three days since I had arrived and I didn’t know it would hurt so much. None of us slept in this immortal life so the days grew ever so long. Alice tried her best to keep me busy. the family kept an eye on me as I kept fed. But still, it did little to stop me from thinking about him. I just wanted to see him, talk to him. Make him see me as more than someone from his past. Whatever he was running away from I wanted him to know he could confide in me, like a friend. Although I had been there less than a week, the Cullen’s home really did feel like home to me. Like I was meant to be here. I was happy admittedly, but without Jasper there it felt like a puzzle piece was missing from this almost perfect haven. I found it odd how much I just wanted to know him.

Edward would not tell us where he had gone, but he assured us that he was safe and was keeping touch. Alice especially assured me that she had an eye on him. She also told me that this distance had less to do with me and more to do with his inner demons. “He’ll be back.” She said holding my hand as we walked through the woods. Alice had brought me so much comfort during this period. I felt sadness growing, still not understanding it. It was like a small hole was shot through my chest. Still. Alice was there being more than happy to answer all my questions or offer me a hug when I needed it. I sighed and looked at the ground wondering if this feeling would truly ever go away. Of course he would be back, I repeated in my head. But how long would he be gone? All I could think about was the hope that I would see him again, and hopefully soon. Alice could tell that my mind was somewhere else so she did her best to cheer me up by telling me all the wonderful things I had to look forward to. “You two will be close, I can see that now. He’s different.” She smiled.

More days passed and I was growing more impatient. I had to wrestle with myself to demand from Edward to tell me where he was. I was half tempted to hunt him down myself. The one thing getting me through was the constant feeling of knowing this was necessary so I tried my best to accept the process. I got to know my new found family more. Alice continued being the best friend I needed. Her and Rosalie taking turns on building my wardrobe, or doing my hair. I found I really loved fashion and having their advice made it easy. Carlisle and Edward loved telling me the history of their family. I heard all the stories of how they were all created. It made me feel better that I knew less of where I came from since their stories seemed so tragic. Bella and I shared a lot of moments bonding over books, Emmett enjoyed hunting with me since bigger carnivores were his thing and my thirst could keep up with his need for a bigger challenge. I of course accepted his arm wrestle and I surprisingly won even though he was definitely the strongest of the group. I didn’t forget about Jasper but it was getting easier when the first two weeks without him passed by. My self control was now trusted enough that the Cullens suggested one day that I try to hunt by myself and possibly explore. I felt ready, I wanted to experience the freedom of it. I didn’t know how long I would be gone, but I was ready just to experience immortality in the euphoria of being alone. It excited me. So, I said bye to everyone and headed out into the thick trees that covered the forest. I took one deep breathe, feeling the cold washington air fill my lungs. The oxygen was unnecessary but all the scents surrounding me felt amazing. I experienced one individually and all at the same time too. I could smell the moss covering the forest floor and all the trees, and the rain that fell from the cloudy sky that clung to everything and made everything so green. My favorite was the smell of the earth as it seemed to open up as I flew through it. I didn’t wear shoes for this specific reason. I could feel everything underneath me as it ignited me to go faster. There didn’t seem to be a limit to how far I could go. All without another breath. I was experiencing so much in just a short amount of time. The feeling of it made me so happy I felt like it would all burst through my chest. I slowed down and inhaled once again ready to start my hunt. Deep in the trees I could here the lapping of tongues on the banks of the river, followed by the loud heart beat of the animal that carried it. The sound of the blood pumping through it began to pull me in, my mouth watering. Suddenly the wind carried the scent of something else that completely halted my engagement. It was sweet like lavender, but also musky like the earth. It seemed far away and then got closer in a very short amount of time. I heard the foot steps in the brush ten feet from me. I crouched, guarding myself. Ready to pounce at any moment. And then he showed his face. He came out with his hands up, eyes wide letting me know not to be afraid. As soon as his eyes caught mine I felt everything around me come crashing down. It was him. Jasper had come back and all the weeks of being anxious for his return disappeared all at once. Without thinking, I ran right up to him and wrapped my arms tightly around him. Part of me thought it was a weird gesture once we made contact, but that dominate part of me is what willed me to do it. His body immediately stiffened beneath my hold on him. Then to my complete shock he relaxed and put his arms around me too. We stayed that way for a moment until I felt a fierce anger boil deep within me. I felt like I was going to snap. I slipped away from him and started shouting before I could even process what I wanted to say. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” I picked up the nearest thing I could get my hands on and began throwing the forest floor at him. “We’ve all been so worried about you! This whole time I thought I did something to make you hate me and then you just show up like this?!” I couldn’t stop the red I was feeling it came out of me like fire. Newborn emotions, as I remember Carlisle calling it. He dodged every item and slowly came closer towards me until he had my arms locked in his hands. “Calm down!” He shouted back reeling me in. Suddenly I felt a wave of calm relax every part of body almost making me fall to me knees. He looked in my eyes and began to speak again. “You have every right to be angry with me, but please understand I’m okay now. Just listen.” As calm as I was I still felt so many other emotions threatening to break through me. I broke through his hold on me and took off without thinking, once again. It didn’t take long for him to catch up with me but even still I kept running until I found my self on a cliffs edge with the ocean crashing below. I stopped ready to run in the opposite direction but he cut me off. He held his hands up to me again, begging me to hear him out. “Please listen to my apology. You don’t have to accept it but just listen.” He repeated. I shook my head, “Okay.” As upset as I was, what I was doing felt very dramatic. I could see that once he calmed me again. I also really did want to understand his absence, and not from Alice or Edward, but from his mouth. I wanted to know how he could feel such hatred for me without knowing anything about me. He closed the distance between us and sat down, gesturing with his hands for me to do the same. I did what he requested and let him start the conversation. “I had to get away for a moment. I know exactly what you’re feeling and it’s justified. I made you feel such horrible things when we first met and I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am. But please believe that I don’t hate you.” His golden eyes found mine again and I could see his grief deep within them. If a vampire could cry I swear I could see the tears forming in his eyes. “I have been so numb since I can remember, but then I saw you and didn’t understand this new feeling. I saw my creator in you and it made me so angry. I can’t explain it and I know I don’t deserve you to understand, but overtime I’m hoping you can. I’m so sorry for making you feel the pain that I did.” He stopped and waited for my response. I felt such relief from this. This is exactly what I wanted, a chance to talk to him. Before, I thought this would be a moment for me to explain myself, but here he was explaining everything I feared and making it all go away. So I responded, “I was only so upset because out of everyone I met that first day something deep within me wanted your approval the most. I felt such a pull to you that when you rejected me I felt such a pain that sort of took over.” I paused for a moment to collect what I needed to say next, but before I could continue he stopped me. “I know exactly what you’re saying because I also felt that. It frightened me because I don’t know what any of this means. The only thing close I’ve felt to this came from someone who destroyed me. Your hair and your eyes and the way you spoke - I just saw her.” He looked away from me and I could feel such immense pain coming from him. “Jasper it’s okay.” I took his hands and brought them to my lap. The sleeves of his sweater pulled up from his wrists and I could see scars all over his arms. I didn’t know what they were at first, but then I could make out the clear marks of what teeth would make as they bit into something. I shivered as I pictured what left such marks and what going through that would be like. I traced my fingers along one of the half moon shaped scars and spoke again. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that I care for you. And no matter what’s happened I think it’s safe to say we can start over, don’t you think?” He smiled for a second and we both breathed a sigh of relief. He brought his eyes from my hands back up to my face. “I think I would like that very much.” He laughed and for the rest of the day we talked about his past. And as we did I felt the puzzle piece finally completing my perfect haven.

#jasper hale #writing #story #fanfiction #twilight #twilight au #oc #twilight blog

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collecting-stories · 5 years ago

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Past Life - Tony Stark

A/N: This was difficult, writing Tony Stark was a challenge for me but I was happy to have to challenge. Practice makes better right? Maybe?

Request: Hello, I am so happy you are re-opening your requests! I have been loving your work! I would like to ask if I could request a Marvel fic where Tony cheats on fiancée!Reader and he regrets it but she is already happy and has moved on with Steve (married and expecting)? Angst and fluff would be great :) - @belovedcherry

Pairings: Past Tony Stark x reader ; Steve Rogers x reader

///

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should!” Steve called from the kitchen of your New York apartment. It wasn’t the Brooklyn of his youth, naturally, but it was still Brooklyn and he was happy to settle somewhere that felt a little more like home than D.C. had felt. You were almost out the door, shoes on and keys in hand as you listened to Steve’s footsteps get louder.

He came around the corner, drying his hands on a stripped kitchen rag. A frown was set on his face as he regarded you, fully ready to leave the safety of the apartment, summer dress emphasizing your 6-month of pregnancy.

“Its the corner store Steve, I’ll be back in thirty minutes tops. Less if Martha doesn’t want to ‘feel the baby kick’ and give me terrifying baby tips.” You promised. “We need milk.”

“I can get it.”

“You can do the dishes like you promised and I can get it. Because I am still fully capable of getting milk. Besides, Sam will be here in like, an hour.”

Steve sighed, a clear sign that he wasn’t pleased with the suggestion you had offered. You placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him, slow to pull away once he kissed you back. He was smiling when he opened his eyes to look at you, “fine, but I’m still not thrilled.”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you promised, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

You had met Steve at what turned out to be the very messy end of a long engagement. You had been working for Nick Fury at the time, and was still working for him in D.C. when you met Steve again, single that time. It was during the appearance of the Winter Soldier and Hydra’s exposure that you and Steve grew close, opening up for him a possibility of love that he thought had ended when he went down in the plane.

The corner store at the end of your block was a favorite of yours. The woman who was usually inside owned the store with her husband and had enough children that you were certain she’d had every medical occurrence known to doctors. And those unknown too. She was happy to recount the numerous scares she had during her mothering years, even more so when she realized, three months ago, that you were expecting a baby yourself.

“Hey Martha,” you greeted, grabbing a basket by the door and walking into the store. You were by the cooler in the back when the bell above the door sounded.

The new customer walked in, taking off his sunglasses and looking around the small store. As he scanned the area his eyes landed on your back. It was crazy to say that he recognized someone from behind but he had known you long enough that you were unmistakable to him, even after the years he’d gone without seeing you.

He called your name and watched as you tensed before turning around.

“Tony?”

His eyes went wide, “you’re pregnant?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you laughed nervously, subconsciously rubbing the underside of your belly with your free hand, “I uh, I got married earlier this year.”

“I had no idea you were...seeing someone.” He said, clearing his throat as he tried to process the information that was running through his mind. The last time he had seen you was the night you packed and left, telling him you couldn’t handle the partying and the cheating anymore. There were no more chances left for him, you claimed. “I, I’ve been getting myself together.” He mentioned, offhandedly.

“I heard. I saw what you did in Geneva. I’m really proud of how far you’ve come Tony.” You replied. Despite the messy breakup, catching him cheating on you and his partying habits getting out of control, you had always cared about him. There was a part of you that knew you would always love him, just in a different way. That piece of your heart that he had staked a claim in once upon a time belonged to Steve now and you wouldn’t change that. “I always knew you could do incredible things and it’s good to see that. To see you reaching that potential.”

“Thank you.” He thought about making a joke, easing off this topic and deflecting to something lighter but his mind was fogged. Seeing you, and seeing you pregnant, was throwing him for a loop. He’d imagined it before, he’d imagined what it would be like for the two of you to get married, to have children together, to grow old. Somehow, even when you walked out on him he still thought that you would come back. That everything could be fixed. “So...pregnant?”

“Yeah, six months along.”

“Boy or girl?”

“I don’t know, we decided to let it be a surprise.” You replied. He had seen Steve after the two of you got together, you knew he had. You knew all about Geneva and Bucky and how it ended between Steve and Tony. You also knew that he didn’t say anything about your relationship. It was newer than and Steve was a much more private person than Tony had ever been. He didn’t need to brag about seeing someone and you weren’t just arm candy for him to parade around.

“We,” Tony repeated, eyebrows raising, “so who’s this ‘we’?”

“It wasn’t planned Tony, it just kind of happened.” You said, avoiding the direct answer. You could still remember Steve telling you how broken Tony had looked when he realized that Bucky had killed his parents.

“What just kind of happened?”

“Steve and I.”

“Steve...” he trailed off, looking at you as the pieces fit into place and realization dawned on his face. “No, no.”

“Tony-”

“No. You are not having a kid with Steve fucking Rogers.” Tony exclaimed, “you have got to be kidding me!”

“Tony, please-”

“How long have you been seeing him? Were you with him when-”

“Yeah, yeah we were together when he was in Geneva.” You admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, it’s not like we were talking at the time Tony.”

“I’m not the same person I was back then.” Tony commented out of the blue, “I don’t party anymore...I don’t do drugs, drink.”

“I know Tone,” you replied, shifting to walk passed him. The conversation had shifted to something you didn’t want to discuss. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” he reached for your arm as you moved, “please can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about Tony, there’s nothing I can say that will make this easier.” You said, pulling away from him and crossing your arms under your chest. You were regretting more and more not just letting Steve come to the grocery store.

“Why him?”

“Don’t do this please. We’re in a grocery store Tony, I don’t want to do this with you here. I don’t want to do this at all, in fact.”

“I deserve an explanation.” He insisted.

“No, you don’t deserve anything. You cheated on me, over and over Tony. I put up with it for years and said nothing and now I’m happy and moved on with my life and you seriously want me to stand here and justify myself to you? I’m not sorry that I'm not sitting around here waiting for you to decide to get yourself together.” You said, harsher than you had intended. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Wait, please-”

You were out the door before Tony could stop you, leaving behind the milk you were supposed to be getting. You’d send Steve out for it later, right now you wanted nothing more than to be home with your husband and put this moment in time.

Taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl @glopsifum @my-life-as-a-fangirl @gigilame @mysticthinking @real-fbi

#Tony Stark x reader #Tony Stark imagine #Tony Stark fanfiction #Tony Stark angst #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel universe imagine #marvel imagine #marvel cinematic universe imagine #collecting stories imagine

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

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Why don’t you listen to me? Law x GN! Reader - Part 8

Spoilers for : Punk Hazard and Dressrosa arcs [No gender used for the reader, no physical description, everyone is +18] Words : 7073 Archive of our own Blood, exhaustion, intimacy, stupidity, innuendos, flirting If you feel like I should put more warnings, send me a DM or an ask … Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

It’s strange. It’s odd. Feelings can wake you up, weird sensations too, without there even being a contact with your body. Sometimes at night people wake up with a feeling of dread, or a chill running down their spine. Others from the lack of warmth around them, suddenly realizing they had battled with their blankets during the night.

I, however, felt watched. I was also very aware that someone was in the room with me, so I opened my eyes just a little bit to peek. I could only see shoes, but it was enough to trigger a fight or flight response in this still sleepy state.

Looking somewhere behind the person, they were sitting on the rolling chair from the desk but facing me, I focused and teleported behind them. Let’s write down this moment as the most fruitless attempt of taking someone down.

The moment I was behind them, not only did I realized it was Law, but also in a quick gesture of his hands he uttered the word “Shambles” and brought me back to the bed. He threw me the pillow with which he had shambled me, and rolled up to me with a smirk. “Are you done?”

“Do you know how creepy it is to watch someone sleep?” I whispered/yelled, still not fully in control of how my voice was going to be.

“I knocked. Three times.”

“Sure, whatever. Just don’t,” I waved my hand in front of me, “Do that again, you scared me shitless.” I said, giving him a side glance. “And saying ‘I knocked three times’ does not justify the fact that you were watching me sleep, by the way.”

“I was going to wake you up soon. I need to change your bandages, among other things.” He explained coldly, bucking his hips to bring the chair closer to the bed.

His legs were put strangely with how long they were and how low the chair was. “Maybe, elevate the seat?” I suggested with a slightly mocking smile. He threw me a glare in response before patting under the seat to finally find the lever.

This time it was good and he was almost hovering over me. “It’s useless, I’m going to stand up, I can’t do shit sitting down.” He complained, kicking the chair back. It hit the desk with a bit of strength but only enough to rattle the jars on the wooden furniture before calming down.

“Someone’s on edge, you’re not usually so tensed.”

Ignoring my words, Law told me to turn around and take off my clothes once more so that he could remove the bandages. When he did, it stuck to the wounds, but I could finally breathe properly and it was a relief. “I did not have the right lighting yesterday, but your wounds are bad.” He scolded, undoing most of the things he had done last night, saying it was shitty and he shouldn’t have done it in such a state.

“I know, I fucked up.” I mumbled, looking over my shoulder.

Then a silence.

“It’s nothing I can’t fix.” He breathed softly; his gaze ever so analytical as he redid all that he did last night. Another silence followed, then I felt his fingers graze my skin tenderly. “You should have told me the bandages were too tight.”

“I thought it was supposed to be that way, you know like, keep the blood in-“ “You also have to keep the blood flowing, you’re lucky you didn’t pass out,” He spat. “I can see the marks of all over your skin.” This time it was almost a guilty tone, but I could be wrong.

“It’s alright, I think it’s because I had to take deep breaths when we ran earlier.” I told him casually. It was strange, the tension that had been there for so long was slowly starting to fade. I believe it was because I was rested but it could have been for some other unknown reason.

I hissed throughout the whole process of Law cleaning my wounds and putting some ointment on it. Without much emotion, he handed me a part of the bandages and start working with me as we wrapped it around my torso once more. It was less tight than last time, and Law made sure to tell me to remove them in a few hours to let the wounds breathe.

He waited for me to dress back before telling me, “Hands, now.”

Right, I had a lot of other cuts all over my body. Without realizing it, I just put my hands behind my back and waited for him to start working on it until I realized what I had done. Closing my eyes for a moment, I giggled nervously. “Fuck, that’s not-“ I quickly turned around on the bed, showed my hands in front, not looking at him when I did so.

All I heard was a short huff from Law. Then he started checking everything, rolling up my sleeves to look at the cuts on my arms and cleaning them again without a word. I could feel my body heating up.

His hands were holding my arms so delicately, I wondered what it’d feel in another setting. A more intimate settings, where they’d travelled from the back of my thighs to my back, then my stomach-

“Why are you avoiding my gaze?” Law’s voice interrupted my thoughts, hearing what he’d said, I looked up from the ground and focused somewhere closer to his eyes.

“That’s not my eyes, it’s my earrings.” He sighed, moving to my other arm carefully. He wasn’t pushing, but I could feel the mood turning strange.

Maybe I could come clean? He seemed to have calmed down, maybe I could tell him why I followed him to Punk Hazard. “Maybe I’m embarrassed.” I said, looking to the side. My face was heating up more and more, my heart beating faster. I was determined to tell him.

“About the hands? Restraints is something a lot of people-“

I interrupted him with a loud exasperated sigh, “God no, not that. Please don’t mention that, let that moment disappear from your mind, please.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to.” He finished taking care of my wounds, but did not go away.

Instead, he stepped closer, towering me. His hands rose, one placed on my shoulder and the other brushing the exposed skin of my neck. “Turns out you might actually enjoy the leash in the end…” My skin was set aflame, I finally looked up and met his gaze in pure shock and surprise. Yet some part of me was delighted by that suggestion, his eyes looked at mine with something close to boredom but it wasn’t that, it was something darker.

However, it quickly disappeared, and he stepped away from me with a grunt. “Forget what I said, rest. It’ll be a while before we arrive-“

“No, no, don’t do that- Law, don’t throw it under the rug.” I said quickly before grabbing his good arm and desperately trying to have him stay, “Ask me again, please, ask me again.”

He was confused, I could see it on his face as he asked, “What?”

“Ask me why I followed you-“

“Why did you follow me to Punk Hazard, why can the rest of my crew obey a simple order but you can’t?” Okay, maybe I deserved it. Maybe I poked the bear too much, but he still said it in a quite aggressive way that almost made me bolt away and abandon my mission. But instead, I answered.

“Maybe Shachi, Penguin, Bepo and rest of the crew are not here because…” I gripped the hem of my shirt and looked off to the many cabinets in the room. Night was slowly falling and it was soon time to eat, then our shift... But I continued, “Because they don’t love you the same way I do-“

“Why would you do that?”

I covered my mouth at the incoming rejection and took a deep breath before asking him what he meant by that. “I’m your Captain-“

“Don’t you think I already know that? That’s what makes it worse! But I still wanted to make sure you were a good person…”

“Why would you love me?” He asked, stepping closer to me.

I took a step back, my legs hitting the bed and I pushed him away. “Are you really asking this? Just because you’re stubborn and grumpy doesn’t mean you’re unlovable Law. You’re also very kind, in case you didn’t notice, and you make me laugh… I just feel nice around you… serene…”

Running my hands over my face, I sat back on the bed, bringing my legs to my chest before resting my elbows on my knees as I sighed. I had to hold back my tears until this was over. “Maybe it’s for the best if I’m not in the crew anymore, at least it won’t be awkward.” I muttered.

“I have a hard time trusting people.” He stated while sitting in front of me. I hesitantly looked up, confused. “And I’m harsh. I have nightmares, I am bitter, I have goals, people around me they don’t live long because my goals are dangerous.”

Nodding, I kept my gaze on his, “You also care for people around you. You do everything for their safety. You warn everyone, of the danger, we stick around because we care about you. For someone bitter you’re very sweet with your crew,” I chuckled dryly, “And the nightmares? It’s a package deal with this life, is it not? Like you said, it’s not a kid’s game Law. We know what we signed up for.” I ran my hands over my face once more, exhaling loudly. It was relieving to have confessed, even though now I felt sad from whatever this was. Had I been rejected?

“Never run into danger ever again.” He said out of nowhere, I felt his weight next to me. He was sitting with an arm on one his knee, while the other leg dangled off the bed.

“That, I can’t promise, sorry.” I mumbled.

“You said you weren’t part of the crew anymore, but you are. You never left it, I just tried to keep you away from this.” His voice was a lot softer than it usually was, but that’s because we were alone and he did not have to pretend. He did not have to be the leader.

“You could have said so, instead of being a real ass.” I believe the nerves of having bared my feelings made me stuttered there but I ignored it.

“What would you have said if I told you to stay because I did not want you to get hurt?”

I pondered the question a moment before laughing and admitting with a tired grin, “I would have told you that I knew what I was doing and come anyway.”

“Exactly, you are very much like Mugiwara-ya just for that.” He explained with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Ah but you get along well with him, so it’s alright, I don’t mind.” There was a short moment of silence, he turned his face slowly and looked at me with a smug smile.

“I must have a thing…” He turned around on the bed and grabbed my ankles before pulling me towards him, I almost fell forward when I lost the support under my elbows but played along. “… For impulsive idiots,” Taking off his hat, he set it next to him while still looking at me, I could see his eyes a lot better. There seemed to be a glimmer of playfulness in them that I could not get enough of.

I giggled nervously, losing all my sentence-making skills. I wanted to reply something, anything, maybe something witty even but I could feel his hands gliding from my ankles to my knees before slowly going to my thighs. A dumb, nervous, smile was painted on my face, I knew it but I couldn’t stop it. My heart was trying to jump out of my chest, I could feel it pounding rapidly, no signs of calming down. “Haha what- what do you think you’re you doing?” I managed to utter; my nervousness was too present.

“I thought you could read me like an open-book. But it seems you’re as bad at doing that, as you are at listening to my orders.” He grinned before moving one hand to my jaw. He splayed it there, angling my head as he stared down at me with what I could only describe as longing. Was this happening? Was this really happening? I parted my lips, surprised by his words then smiled, it was closer to a rictus than a smile, “Seriously, what are you doing? Law…”

A wicked smile was now displayed on his lips as he leaned in even more, his nose brushing against mine. I could feel his breath on my lips and could also smell the rubbing alcohol on his hands. I grabbed the lapel of his coat and tried to bring him closer, he chuckled and held back, his thumb caressing my cheek slowly. “Look at you, so eager-“ I was not here to play games, as he talked I tugged hard on his coat and brought his lips against mine. His hand slithered from my jaw to the back of my head where I felt his fingers thread in my hair, feeling his nails scrape against my skull sent shivers down my spine.

I’d never thought this day would happen, but I was enjoying every bit of it. He was smiling against my lips, his tongue darting out as he wordlessly asked for permission. I welcomed it with as much eagerness as him, we broke the kiss to breathe for a moment and looked at each other. His eyes were filled with lust and what I could only hope was longing or love, for I knew my eyes were filled with those. “Stay by my side, I don’t think I could bear seeing you hurt again…” He breathed sadly.

Looking at him with a bit of doubt, I whispered, “Are you… is this… can you say it please… can you say it so that I know it’s real? I don’t-“ I let out a nervous laugh, it earned me a slight frown from Law but he ghosted his lips against mine ever so lightly. “I’m in love with you.” He breathed against my lips, I shivered and muttered “Good,” Now smiling, I brought my eyes to his and said, “I’m not leaving your side if you stay by mine… dear…” I saw his face turn a different shade of red, it was the cutest sight. His lips met mine once more, this time with more passion.

My hands travelled from his coat to his stomach where I barely grazed it before gripping his hips. He hissed into the kiss, pulling away for a second, “Careful, it stills hurts,” He breathed out before going for the kiss once more, I stopped him and looked at his stomach with a frown, “Sorry, we should probably stop-“ “No, come here,” With a hand now on the small of my back and the other under one of my thighs, he brought me over his lap where I could look down at him, my knees resting on the mattress on either side of him. He was careful with his touch on my back, and while my arms still hurt, I couldn’t stop myself from letting my hands travel to his shoulders before sliding my fingers inside his messy hair.

This time I was the one to angle his head for the kiss, my fingers brushing over his earrings. He smiled smugly and pecked my lips tenderly, “You’re hurt, so I’ll let you do as you please but if it was up to me, I’d take you right now,” He whispered seductively before kissing my neck, I was giggling at first at the sensation of his beard against my skin but soon enough I was gasping and pressing his head closer to my neck. Those weren’t kisses, he was leaving hickeys all over my skin, not giving me any sign of stopping as his hands ventured under my clothes and grabbed my ass.

I moaned and rested my head against his before asking him to stop, “We should rest first, before…” “Before what? We’re just kissing, did you have something else in mind?” Seeing his sly expression, I grabbed his hat and shoved it on his face, pulling it down to cover his eyes. “Nope, nothing. Let’s head back to the others.”

Letting out an annoyed sigh, he put his cap properly and kissed my neck one last time before helping me up with him. “We won’t be alone until we arrive at Zou, are you sure you want to go back already?”

I was already turned towards the door, but I faced him once more upon hearing his subtle plea for more. “Does my Captain crave more of me?” I asked cockily, there was something empowering in knowing I had the same effect on him, he had on me. He seemed taken aback for a moment, before his expression returned to his usual scowl.

“Let’s go back then,”

I blocked his path and placed a hand on his chest before he could step forward, “Not yet, you’re right. I guess… I could use some… some you time.” I mumbled. I didn’t want to admit how much I actually wanted him, if not needed him.

I wanted to act cool and composed, but I was not yet ready to go back inside and act like nothing happened. “Some ‘me time’? I think you should be clearer,” He said with a serious expression, but I think he was being playful. I think he was saying this because I had told him the same thing earlier, but I had done my fair share of being straightforward with my feelings for today.

He hummed as if to nudge me, without doing so physically. Clearing my throat, I shrugged, “I’m not going to be all touchy and shit once we get back to them… I don’t really-“ Sighing I looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t get mad, “I’m not into PDA okay? But I really want to be close to you right now, I,” a shaky laugh escaped from my lips as I thought of how stupid it sounded, but I continued, “I still can’t believe this is real, nor that you are alive… I could really use some more of…” I took a deep breath and sighed just as loudly, “More of your touch, I want to hold you okay? I really, really want to hold you right now.”

I heard him chuckle lightly before he put everything down on the desk once more and looked back at me with the smallest of smiles. “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he started, pulling me closer by putting his hands on my hips. “I’m not going to be, as you say, ‘all touchy and shit’ either. Not in front of them, but I can’t promise that once we’re back with at the Polar Tang.” He continued with a content smile this time. His hands travelled from my hips to my shoulders where he wrapped his arms around me. “I think Black Leg is still cooking for now, we have a bit of time in front of us.”

I felt relieved that he did not tell me off, but also very glad that we were, as he said, on the same page. Hesitantly, I nudged his hand with mine. He laughed grabbed me gently, then led me back to the bed where he treated my wounds. “You know, you don’t have to ask to hold my hand.” He said softly once we sat down and I was glued to his side, my legs over his and my back slightly off the wall to avoid putting more pressure on the wounds. “Good to know… you can too, if you’d like.” I said with a timid smile.

There was a calming silence between us, it felt comforting. Just knowing he was there.

“You’re a lot calmer than I’ve seen you these past few days.” He remarked, patting his lap as if to invite me to come over. Chuckling, I turned him around so that we were face to face, in the length of the single bed, and nudged his legs apart to sit there while my legs were on either side of him. That way I wasn’t putting my weight on him, but on the mattress. I saw the way his cheeks lit up but did not mention it. “Well, you know, I’m only calmer because I lost a lot of blood.” I quoted him, earning a short laugh as he slithered his hands to my waist where he held me there.

“I thought you were getting shy for a second,” He smirked.

“Me? Never. Never, no, no. There’s no need to, haha…” I gripped his knees like it was an armchair when he brought them mid-way to his chest, his feet still on the ground, on each side of me.

“That would be something, considering how you were kissing me moments ago.” I never thought he’d be this cocky, I thought he’d be awkward and playing hard to get but he was having a lot of fun seeing me squirm.

“You kissed me,” I corrected. But I did not really remember who had started it, that moment was too foggy even though it made my stomach flip just from thinking about it.

He laughed so beautifully just from what I said. While it was beautiful, I looked to the side embarrassed. “You kissed me, I know because I can still remember how eager you were to-“ He started, but I interrupted him,

“We kissed, both of us, it’s a shared action, okay? Let’s not talk about it, let’s just leave it at that.” I grumbled, my face probably flaring up by now. I heard him hum, but was it in agreement? I hardly doubt that. From the look on his face, he was enjoying this. Too much.

“If I had been the one who had initiated the kiss, it would have gone like this,” Suddenly, I was pulled onto his lap once more and he was gripping my chin between his index finger and thumb. He was keeping my mouth slightly open, I tried to close it but he’d chuckled and opened it once more. I tried to stare at his hand but he tutted me and told me to look at him. “I would have kept you like this a little while, seeing how you’d react,” then he gently brushed his thumb over my lips, smiling faintly, his burning gaze was piercing mine.

His voice dropped lower, “Then I would have tested the water, like this,” he pushed his thumb inside my mouth and pulled my lower lip down, showing my teeth. My heart was beating fast, I wanted to say something, get the upper hand but I also wanted to see what he’d do. “You’re breathing unevenly, am I getting to you?” He whispered with a smug smile. I did not reply, instead I was lost on the new sensation of his free hand trailing up very slowly from my hip to side.

With as much care, he wrapped his hand around my neck. It wasn’t tight, he was barely grazing his fingers on the skin, each of his fingers dancing across my skin like butterfly wings. He slid his index and thumb back on my chin and raised it to have a better access to my neck where I heard him sigh. “Beautiful,” I looked at him from that weird angle, my eyes almost closed as I tried to keep my gaze on him. When he dipped his head, I felt his tongue on my skin and gasped, gripping his shoulder from the sudden warm sensation.

Since we had just come back from outside, his hands were just as frigid as mine but we couldn’t care less. Our warm bodies were enough for now as I was melting in his cold touch.

He left a trail of open mouth kisses on my neck, then full ones on my collarbone before gradually moving behind my earlobe where I could feel his even breath caressing my hair. I gasped at the sensation, leaning against his touch more. I was gripping his shoulders tight but did not dare move in fear of missing out on more of him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He whispered, his teeth scraping against my ear, the feeling of his beard joined quickly after.

I let out a breathless sound, it made him chuckle. “Suddenly so silent… I haven’t even kissed you yet.” I made a sound close to a grunt but it came out as a whine with how leaned back my head was. “I like to take my time,” he uttered against the skin of my neck once more before grazing his tender lips against it then sucking on it, leaving more marks. “Very slowly… getting you to the edge…” He hummed against my skin, his hands deftly touching the right spots.

No matter how cold it was starting to be outside, I felt like my skin was on fire. Each of his touch sparked something new. “You haven’t answered my question, perhaps I should stop-“

Looking back at him I frowned, “No,” My voice was so low I wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t heard me, he grinned widely at my words and tilted my head back once more, resuming what he was doing. One of his hands gripped the back of my neck surely, it wasn’t painful but not very soft either. The other brushed over each spot after he kissed them. He took his time, and I was left, mouth open, eyes closed, enjoying every second of it.

I was not ready to tell him but I was relishing in the feeling of his hands against my skin. Part of me knew that those hands did a lot of things, not all good, and he had the power to kill me if he could. But right now, they were sending shocks coursing through my body, they were like feathers grazing my very being, they were a sinfully pleasing grip the perfect amount of pain and pleasure.

Lost in my thoughts, I had not realized he had tilted my head forward. When I slowly opened my eyes, I met his half-lidded grey ones. “Look at you, I’m barely touching you and you’re already at my mercy…” He leaned in, his nose brushing against mine just like before except this time I was drowning in his touch. Both of his hands were holding my head, splayed with his thumbs on my cheeks and the rest of his fingers behind my ears.

With his lips merely breaths away from mine, he whispered, “If I had been the first one to kiss, it would have gone like this,” then he our lips met and it was different than any previous kiss. It was wanting, longing, like two people finally meeting after years of yearning for one another’s touch, finally succumbing to that craving for intimacy. But it was also, needy and desperate, like drinking a fresh glass of water in the middle of summer, you don’t want to miss one drop, you want it all for yourself and you take it, the biggest gulps of your life. It felt refreshing in that warm summer heat, but only for that mere moment.

When we broke apart, we were both breathless. I was going to speak up, but he started kissing my cheeks, my neck, my collarbone, carefully avoiding my wounds. I chuckled and pressed my hands onto his cheeks, trying to stop him but he moved back to my neck where he kissed me again and again. This time it wasn’t lustful, nor sensual, I felt loved, my once shattered heart from seeing him falling from high above was slowly filling up with so much warmth. “Law, my god Law, let me- let me love you too, please.” I said with a chuckle, it sounded poetic but all I wanted was to kiss him as much as he was kissing me.

“We’re going to have to go back, I want to enjoy this a bit longer,” He uttered against my throat, I let my head fall back as I laughed, giving him a better access for a few seconds before pushing his head away.

“I never thought you’d be such a romantic.” I said with an embarrassed smile, he was looking at me with such a strong emotion, I had a hard time discerning which one it was. Leaning my forehead against his, I sighed and closed my eyes. “Are you sure-“ I was cut off when Law spurted, “I also thought you were dead…”

Opening my eyes, I realized what plagued his pretty eyes, it was fear. Fear and worry. I was about to ask what he meant when he continued, looking at our now intertwined hands. “Doflamingo said he had placed a bounty on your head, and if you weren’t dead by his own hands, then the civilians would have gotten you.” I frowned, gripping his hands tighter. “He showed me my vivre card. The one I had given you, at that moment I thought you were gone.” I gasped, realizing where it had disappeared. I had no clue how they took it from my pockets but now it made sense.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know how they took it, it was in my pockets the entire time-“

Law chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “He fooled us both. But now he’s defeated, I don’t want to think about him anymore. Let’s forget about it.” He said with a certain finality to his words.

While he was looking off to the side, I observed his solemn grey eyes. I did not know what to say to help him, I didn’t think he had gone through this much. Tapping my finger on his hand, I grinned when he looked back at me, a brow quirked.

“I’ll admit I kissed you first but-“ he laughed, his head hitting the wall behind him. A relieved smile on his lips, relieved and happy.

Telling him to shut up, I continued, “But, I think we should talk about you telling me you want to put a leash around my-“ “That’s a topic for when we’re back on the Polar Tang, I’m not having that discussion right now.” He said quickly as he stood up, pulling me up with him. This time I was the one who was laughing, pulling at his hand I called his name softly, “It’s pretty fun that, that’s what initiated all this-“ I gestured at the both of us.

“You know what? It is, you did ask me to stay even after that, and the hands behind your back? Maybe we should have that conversation right now.”

How could he turn the topic on me when he was the one who said the kinky shit? Letting go of his hand, I walked past him, hiding my face. “Polar Tang it is, I’m not having that discussion right now.” I imitated his tone, earning a deadpanned look from my Captain, now lover. Without further delay, we left the infirmary.

Before I could go a separate way from Law, he gently took my hand in his and stared at me.

Looking askance, I chuckled. “Is there something you’d like to say?” I asked with a small smile. Pulling me closer to him once more, he let his hand trail up my arm.

“I’m going to contact the crew,” He did not elaborate and just looked at me, so I prodded. “And you… want me to be there,” his face did not help at all, as usual he was wearing a scowl and did not say more. “Or not? Is it more of a ‘we’re alive’ kind of call or is it like, ‘coming clean to our friends that we’re dating’ kind of call.”

“I’ll tell them we’ll be arriving in a few days, knowing them they’re worried sick.” He rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face that said he did not mind that much.

“You’re right, do you think they’ve encountered any problem on Zou?” I asked as we started walking side by side to where we could find a den den mushi. I had never seen that island, if anything it was but a legend to me, or as it was known, the ghost island.

I was surprised when we entered a room, filled with laughter and camaraderie, and Law huffed a laugh. “Do you not know about the plce? Bepo’s from Zou.”

“What? I never knew! Do you where they’re all from?! All of them?” putting a hand in front of him, I stopped him and squinted my eyes, “Do you know where I’m from?”

Law pushed my hand away and mumbled the sea I was from, surprising me once again. “Don’t act surprised, I keep track of all of my crew.”

“Right, it makes sense.”

We continued talking as we crossed the room and managed to get hold of the den den mushi. There was a bit of shoves and pushes from the commotion around as people drank and partied, but we made it through. When Law got in contact with the crew, Shachi picked up but soon after a shuffle was heard then loud whines, everyone on the other end of the line was moving and trying to talk to Law.

“I can’t handle that much noise, I’ll let you check up on them, alright?” I leaned over to tell Law, he nodded but before I could go, I heard our crew asking if they heard right, if it was me. Law told them it was me, that I was alive and he took care of my wounds which only brought more worry.

Questions were shot from each and every one of them, like asking what had happened, where we were, how was Law. But the one I heard was, Bepo asking Law if he had told me yet. What was he supposed to have told me? I didn’t know but it definitely piqued my interests. So, I decided to stay and pulled up a seat to sit next to Law with a huge grin.

Mouthing I asked, “Tell me what?”. He scowled and turned around, replying to all of their questions and calming their worries. It took a bit of time, but when he thought he was done, Bepo asked the question again. And Law grunted in response.

“Captain! You have to come clean. It can only go well!” I heard the polar bear say, his statement was backed up by the rest of the crew.

Bringing the den den mushi closer to his mouth, Law mumbled something.

Cheers erupted from the device, “Good! It was painful, Shachi you owe me, I knew they both couldn’t be that stupid.” I heard Penguin say.

Giving my Captain a curious look, I noticed his flustered expression and smiled back timidly. Why did it feel so nice? Part of me knew the crew would accept it, and yet hearing them supporting us took a weight off my chest. Or perhaps was it, relief from having carried this crush for so long? Whichever it was, it felt nice, and I could probably sleep tight tonight.

When Law was about to hang up, Penguin asked if I was still there. I contemplated telling them nothing, but instead I shuffled closer to the scowling man and peeked over his shoulder. “I’m still here-“ “Now you can finally admit you just couldn’t bear being separated from your true love instead of using Bepo as an ex-“ He was being overdramatic and clearly teasing me, yet I fell for it and grabbed the den den mushi, cutting the conversation short before putting it down on the table with too much force.

There would have been a silent if it hadn’t been for the hubbub in the background. “I’ll give them all a beating when we see them again.” I huffed, looking at Law for the first time since I hung up on the whole crew. He was leaning against the wall with a knowing smirk, it made me feel funny inside but I ignored it and gesture at him with my chin. “What?”

“Nothing.” He replied.

“Go ahead, tell me, you look arrogant and I-“ I was going to say I hated it but, who was I kidding? It was hot. “And I want to smack that smug smile off your face.”

“We both know I’d win in a fist fight, even more so in the state you’re in.” He said casually while making his way towards me, his stride slow and deliberate. When he reached me, he did not touch me, instead he leaned in and whispered right next to my ear, “Not that I couldn’t win if you weren’t in that state, you’d submit anyway.” He huffed a laugh, his breath hitting my burning skin.

When he pulled away, I stared at him, mouth agape. Had he really said that? “I- you- no? Maybe? I don’t know, I wasn’t planning on fighting you, so…” I trailed off, feeling stupid for ruining the mood but I could still save it. I wanted to see how far I could take it. Maybe test the water and flirt back, like he did moments ago.

Before I could speak, the cook appeared by the doorway and called everyone to eat. Throwing one last glance at Law, I said, “This isn’t over,”

“I hope not, I like what I started.” He stated, ruffling my hair before walking away with the ghost of a smile on his face. “And since I’m the one who started it, you’ll have to come back to me with a more satisfying answer. You seemed to be struggling there… maybe with time you’ll find back the ability to talk.”

I had no idea what he had started, but wherever this was leading us, I knew nothing was going to happen on this ship and I would probably go crazy from the waiting. But it was worth the wait, I had waited long enough to be honest with him and myself, I think waiting was now a skill I had mastered.

For now, I’d have to play it off. Play is casual, no matter how much I wanted to walk by his side and be close to him. It was strange, I always thought it was because I was worried about him but now I knew I simply wanted to be by his side and bathe in the serenity of his presence. For someone so dangerous, he had a calming aura that I could not get enough of.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you coming?” I heard Law’s voice by the door. Everyone had left, but him. He stood there, his coat ruined, his body wrapped in bandages, his sword in hand. And yet, he was smiling. But only for me.

“Well, maybe I’m enjoying the view?” I teased while making my way towards him. I could help but notice the slight change of colour on his cheeks, but he hid is well enough behind his sudden scowl. “Come on,” his hand grabbed mine, our fingers intertwining. “You need to eat if you want to heal up.”

Looking down at our hands, my stomach twisted in a strange knot. While I said I didn’t want PDA, holding hands felt nice, it felt reassuring. Perhaps this I could handle, why should I care what the rest of them thought? “You sure you want to hold hands?” I asked him when I remembered he was just as apprehending of being public about our affection.

“If I let you go, you’ll probably get lost and wounded, one way or another. I’m okay with this as long as you are.” He said in an off-handed way. But I knew it was not about me getting lost, he wanted this as much as I did. I squeezed his hand tighter and hummed. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll flaunt you-“

“Don’t, just don’t.”

“What, you don’t want to be my trophy husband?” I said playfully as we started walking towards the kitchen.

His only reply was a deadly glare which only made me laugh, “Kidding, I won’t say anything promised.” I trailed off. “But I’ll be thinking it very loudly, because I get to be with the Surgeon of Death and that’s kind of hot.” It earned me a choking reaction from the Warlord who only gave me a side glance before looking away, slightly flustered.

I could get used to getting him to blush and be embarrassed, the side flirting seemed to be more effective than my pitiful attempt at straight-forward flirting and I took note of that.

When I started this impulsive approach, this stupid and rash action of following him to Punk Hazard I never thought it’d end up like this. But now I could say without an ounce of doubt that I did not regret it one bit. Sure, I got yelled at a lot and maybe I got more trauma than I thought I’d get but it turned out pretty well.

Our adventure was not at its end, we had a long way to go to defeat the Warlords and I was ready for it, as long as I was by Law’s side and I had my family with me.

“Hey, I’m glad I didn’t listen to you when you told me to go back to the Polar Tang the first time.” I told Law before we entered the kitchen.

“I can’t say I am, but I suppose it’s not that bad you did not listen to me… just this time. You better follow my orders next time, or I’ll chain you to the ship and leave you there.” He grunted. His thumb brushing over the back of my hand balanced his emotionless words. “Aye aye Captain.” I said teasingly, earning a shove from him.

It’ll be alright, I thought, content.

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A/N Mmmm the end! For now, I like to leave it open, maybe I'll have another idea in that time line that I'll add as a new work in that series!

My whole goal was to get them to confess, hence the shortness of the story but yeah! I hope you enjoyed it.

Do come in my ask or DM’s to tell me you enjoyed it, or not! Or give feedback or said you liked some things, I am taking it all!