#I really should stop drawing and posting art while being sleep deprived gosh

[rika-mortis]

Late night perirep sketch

[homestuck-good]

Coming Home - Lin X Reader

Prompt: Uh... None. I'm still new to this whole thing.

Warnings: Like, two curse words. Lin curses a lot in his interviews, so he curses here, too. Summary: You and Lin have grown distant over the years, leading to unfortunate feelings of loneliness. After returning to New York for a job interview, an unexpected encounter leads to a surprising reconciliation. Word count: 1,900 (Wow. 0.o) Notes: This is my first posted fic, so I really hope you all like it! Please give any and all feedback, I would appreciate it very much! I know @secretschuylersister said that what she got to read was good, so I hope the rest of it lives up to her expectations!

OH GOSH I AM SO NOT READY TO POST THIS

HERE WE GO

The window's view flashed by faster than your eyes could follow, mixing into a blur of pictures and scenes of local life. Huge buildings towered on the horizon, nearing closer every time you looked up.  A deep breath in. A deep breath out. There were few things you had experienced more nerve-wracking than this particular train ride back to your hometown. Even with a very promising job on the line, (y/n) was reluctant to travel home. She'd eventually end up running into an old family friend or schoolmate, which wasn't all that nerve-wracking. What made this journey anxiety-inducing was the prospect of meeting him.

You hadn't seen him in over a decade, and conversation had obviously not been much of a priority to him since you left. The two of you had been best friends at one point, and you still had no idea what happened between you.

Oh yeah, fame and fortune happened.

You and Lin had grown up in the same neighborhood, and your parents were close friends. It was inevitable that the two of you would be forced to spend time with each other, no matter how much both of you resisted. After nearly a year of the two of you avoiding one another, a mutual love of theatre brought you into a careful friendship. From there, the relationship blossomed. The two of you had spent every moment possible together, reenacting scenes from Rent or singing a very out-of-tune rendition of Wicked. You would trust Lin with your life, and he would trust you with his. Of course, while Lin fell deeper into camaraderie, you had fallen deeper into love. Despite your best efforts to suppress it, a fluttering and delicate crush began to take root in your mind, until all you thought about was his goofy smile and stunningly kind words. Your years of schooling past by quickly, lost in a blur of tests and exams. The end of Senior year arrived faster than either of you could ever imagine.

Much to your dismay, Lin was going to Wesleyan, a liberal arts university in Connecticut. You, however, had been accepted to Phillip Merrill, a journalism school in Maryland. You would be far from your best friend and your hometown, leaving you feeling alone and helpless. Lin, of course, promised that he would talk with you whenever possible, updating you on the nature of his life. You pledged to do the same.

First semester went smoothly. Constant conversation, and good grades. Eventually, 'whenever possible' turned into 'whenever convenient'. You talked less and less, seeing as both of you were drowning in heaping piles of schoolwork. That never deterred your friendship. Lin's creative genius never ceased to astound you in every way. He would share ideas with you when he could, looking for your approval before he deemed the idea worth acting on.

It made you feel good, to know that you were still an important part of his life.

Slowly but surely, your small role in his world diminished until you were nothing but a fond reminder of childhood that was off in some other part of the country. Your unrequited feelings began to flicker out as well, but you still smiled every time you saw his name in the news.

He was in the news quite often, after all.

In The Heights, a work of genius, had finally made its way onto Broadway. Journalism jobs were few and far between, so when the opportunity to write an eight-page cover story on a hit Broadway musical popped up, you took it without second thought.

That second thought, however, probably would have been that you would have to interview a certain Lin-Manuel Miranda to get the story done.

Shaking yourself out of reminiscence, you looked up to find the dreary view quickly changing to the busy hubbub of a train station. Gathering the bag you had packed for your week's stay, you merged into the crowd streaming outside. A cacophony of sounds hit your ears almost immediately, but you knew from experience it was nothing compared to what awaited you in the streets of New York. You took another deep breath in. Out. Although nighttime was fast approaching and you had an early morning ahead, muscle memory guided your feet to your favorite hole-in-the-wall.

It was a little book shop that had survived on you and Lin's purchases alone for a few years, and the owner greeted you warmly when you stepped into the familiar room. You returned the welcome with a kind smile and a hug, telling him that you were back home for a week on a business endeavor.

The two of you talked for a bit, discussing books and catching up on a decade of missed conversation. He was talking animatedly about a recent encounter with a rather rude customer when the bell that signaled a new arrival chimed. You turned around, ready to greet this stranger with a smile and a firm handshake. You were instead faced with a scenario you hadn't been prepared to struggle through until tomorrow.

A disheveled and sleep-deprived Lin stood in the doorway, staring at you in shock.

The owner, who's name was Luis, called for Lin to shut the still-swinging door.  He did so with robotic movements, face still frozen in a mask of surprise. Time seemed to freeze. You had trouble drawing in a breath deep enough to merit proper brain function, which wasn't very helpful in this current situation.

Scenes of your childhood began to play through your mind, memories of Lin rushing forward with a fresh wave of pain. Seeing his face reopened a wound you weren't ready to address yet. You drew in a deep, very shaky breath.

Luis, bless his soul, was able to detect the tension and scurried safely into a back room to escape the awkward conversation that would inevitably take place. You, however, did not have that luxury. Deciding to break the enveloping silence, you offered a very unsure-sounding "Hi."

Lin was still in a state of shock. "Hey." His eyes began to shift around the room, looking at everything but you.

"So," you began. "Ready for your interview tomorrow?"

He laughed and loosened up considerably. It took him only a few seconds before he stiffened up once again. "How did you know about that? It's going to be for a small magazine, and it's not anything..." He trailed off, finally understanding that you were the interviewer. You surmised he had forgotten that you had gone to get a degree in journalism. You assumed he had forgotten a lot of things since you left, actually.

The awkward atmosphere having made its return, Lin started averting his eyes again. You sighed in frustration, clearly fed up with his dancing on eggshells.

"Look. We stopped talking. I get it. You were too busy with fame and fortune to talk to an old friend. That's alright." You sounded bitter and resentful, despite the thousands of times you had imagined this exact encounter. Another breath and you had enough emotional integrity to continue without crying. "Let's just get this over with, okay? I'll pretend I'm the interviewer, you're being interviewed, and we don't know each other. It'll be fine."  

You didn't know if you were assuring yourself or Lin, but it wasn't working. You muttered another "Yeah, It'll be fine..." underneath your breath, even when you were clearly not fine. When you looked back at him, he was slack-jawed and open-mouthed. You had tears in your eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. Taking this job was stupid. I'll go back and have them send someone else. Tell Luis I said bye." You nearly jogged to get past Lin and out of the store, tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. It took less than a moment for him to spring into action, and before you knew it warm arms were holding you back from the door, clutching you close.

You cried. Hard.

He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, holding you despite your efforts to get away. You finally gave in, leaving tear stains on his shirt. Lin held you even closer, rubbing your upper back in a gesture of comfort. It wasn't very comforting. When you looked at his face again, he smiled. You began to profusely apologize and tried to dislodge yourself from his arms. He, thankfully, held on. Quieting your apologies, he almost giggled.

Lin. Giggled. He giggled.

You, probably more out of delirium than hilarity, began to giggle too. He erupted into a full-blown laugh, making you giggle even harder. You might have even snorted once or twice. He quieted and stared at you with adoration.

"God (y/n), you really thought that was why I stopped talking to you? Did you really think you would ever become unimportant to me?" You nodded sheepishly, temporarily assured that a lack of three years correspondence was nothing more than a mishap. He put his hand to his forehead, mumbling a string of curses under his breath. The only one you heard clearly was "I can't believe I'm actually gonna say this out loud..." Which didn't sound very reassuring at the moment. He sighed and looked at you, still smiling.

"Look, (y/n). I have fallen hopelessly in love with my best friend. She is funny, smart, kind, and beautiful in each and every way. I put off talking to her for three long years because I was so fucking afraid that she'll reject me. I'm still really fucking afraid of that." Lin shook his head, losing his smile. "Shit. Just, forget that. I'll, uh, leave now..."

You didn't think. You probably should have. The last thought running through your mind was 'Screw it.', or something along those lines. Then again, most of your decisions have ended with a defeated 'Screw it.'

Instinct caused you to tug on his arm, pulling him back around to face you. It was probably recklessness that made you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

He stood in shock, unable to move. You continued nonetheless, confident now that you were sure of his feelings. Lin's hands quickly found their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him.

This was nice. Unexpected, nonetheless, but nice.

After a minute of this wonderful experience, the two of you were forced to part because of humanity's unfortunate need for oxygen. Right now, you needed him. Lin was still in shock, breathless despite the kiss's chasteness. You laughed. So did he. It felt like you were teenagers again, laughing off a blunder in class with books and show tunes. It felt good. So, so good. So, so right. The two of you migrated to your favorite chairs in the corner of the store, comfortably sitting in your childhood thrones. Grinning like an idiot, you posed a very important question.

"So, ready for your interview yet?"

"Definitely. That is if you'll be there to see me?" Lin responded playfully, knowing very well that the two of you would probably arrive at the meeting place together, coffees in hand.

"Hm, that depends. I'll have to rearrange my schedule, but I'll see what I can do." Awkwardness long gone, the two of you engaged in comforting banter. Of course, you each snuck a few kisses in between sentences, but that's beside the point.

It felt good to be home.