#JUST AUGH LET THEM BE HAPPY AT THE BEACH OKAY

[cosmicwahoo]

“THATS MY HUSBAND!!!”

[pepsi-maxwell]

ajsgdfaHGJDlfjhv OKAY so i've been meaning to comment on the proposal at the beach fic for DAYS now because oh my god, it's amazing. i love this exhausted, wistful vibe it has going on, i love that punk's the one to try and skim stones, that the first stone thrown sinks in complete failure, just, gah. "the aura of desperation" cracks me up on every read, and man, i'm always a sucker for characters talking around a subject, not adressing it directly until they truly have to, like

“You’re acting like nobody’s ever paid homage to someone who’s not around no more.” / “Am I? Not around any more?”

that's art, my dude, and

“Come back,” he says, heart pounding in his throat, and he can only be thankful he doesn’t stumble over his words. “And then maybe I won’t have to play your part any more.”

ah, it's beautiful (and i could quote more but i'm trying to be Chill and not write you a whole damn wall of text). also; softly begging punk to return while looking upon a new dawn is an amazing concept (and a perfect emotionally devastating wrap-up to revolution)

help thank you so much?!?!! i keep just sitting and looking at this because i'm just. !!!!! 🥰🥰🥰 i gotta admit, when i started writing that prompt fill i did not think it was going to take me in the direction it did!

i'm so glad the wistfulness and the tiredness came across, especially for two men who are always playing a part... like, don't you get tired? don't you just want to be honest with each other for one moment?? can you even do that without the fear that it'll be used as ammunition by someone who you should be happy to see the back of, but you can't quite let go???

(and even when it feels like punk's giving a straight answer there's that eternal ambiguity to it augh!)

fun fact, i set it during the early dawn just for the liminal feel; that half space where decisions and words don't seem to matter, where everything's coated in a dreamy film, and neither of them knows what the coming day will bring--

but honestly i am going to treasure this ask forever because i'm so eee!! about it 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[maxlarens]

alrightttt okay okay alright so i actually need to convince everyone on tumblr dot com to read this

i felt giddy reading this forreal,

"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."

omg the bickering is EVERYTHING. its so landoscar and this is basically exactly how i play monopoly— with lots of spite and hate in my heart😭 gah the way u write it makes me mushy inside. just the three of them hanging out together is sooo🤭😌😣

"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess.

OUGHH DOMESTIC!!!!! I LOVE IT SOO MUCH!!!

"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You him thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.

i can imagine this so easily🥺 him just grabbing you and hauling u towards him AUGH.

"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.

😵‍💫lando landoooo omg. lando who treasures his friends so much because he never really had friends like that until later on in his life. being kinda jealous and protective and not wanting to be without you🥺

"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—

OKAY I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS AS WELL. ooogh he just wants u and oscar in his pocket😵‍💫 and also the stuff about how lando feels soo deeply. augh and its easy to talk to him about things because he’s not really trying to hide his feelings. he just lets them be😣

It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.

this fits my established relationship with oscar and adding lando agenda 🤭 it’s so perfect. he’s just there there there all the time and he’s so unavoidable that you just HAVE to fall in love with him as well.

"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.

I SCREAMED

omg okay. well HELLO i need landoscar x reader from u again. it made me all giggly and blushy🥰 and with driver!reader as well UGH this was so so sooo perfect viv. loved it, like i love everything u write. and thank you again for being soo soo lovely and doing this for me it’s made me so happy and i’ve had such a great day because of you😣💝

world around us

summary: you're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night word count: 1k pairing: lando norris x oscar piastri x driver!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff, slightly suggestive language(?) a.n.: final installation of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLI MY LOVE!!! playlist: completely unhinged songs that fit the vibe

"No no no no no no no! You can't do that! You fuckin' muppet!"

Oscar mirrors your eye roll as Lando protests you placing a house on one of your properties. "She owns it though?" he says tentatively.

Lando scoffs, snatching up the guide and snapping it open. "The rules say–"

"I refuse to follow rules when you rolled twice so you wouldn't go to jail," you say with a huff, snatching the guide from him.

"I had to! One of the dice landed on the floor!"

"Oh but when we play golf I have to play no matter where my ball lands?"

"Yes." Lando gives you a look of disbelief, as though the idea of breaking a golfing rule is akin to murder. "It's not my fault you can't hit a ball straight."

"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."

Lando groans, throwing up his hands. "You're cheating. I hate games night."

Oscar's grin shifts and he begins to chuckle. "We could play Trivial Pursuit?"

"No," Lando whines, picking up the dice to take his turn. "That game makes me feel stupid."

"Uno?" you suggest sweetly.

"No, we'll finish this. Capitalism is good to me, I'll make a comeback." Lando nods to himself as he shakes the dice. "Just shut up so I can focus."

And then, twenty minutes later–

"What d'you mean I owe you double the rent?!"

The rules are checked - well this is fucking bullshit - and he counts out all of his money to pay up. Suddenly capitalism sucks and he's clinging to his one property block and his cash like they're his lifeline.

You'll never know how (he probably cheated) but he wins. Monopoly money rains down as he celebrates and you fall back with laughter when Oscar flips the board in disgust.

You love games night. The silly playlist Lando put together plays, Disney movies play, muted, on the tv, and you've got them.

Lando and Oscar. Your biggest rivals on the track and your closest friends off. You're celebrating Oscar's first win this week now that summer break is here, enjoying the lazy days before you each take off in different directions to visit family and recuperate from an exhausting first half of the season.

"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess. Lando's singing along to the latest country song he's obsessed with - Is it your heart or mine? Is it whiskey or wine? Is it somethin' in the night Makin' us wanna cross that line? - and he follows you into the kitchen to get more drinks.

"You sure you don't want to come along with me?" he asks, reaching around you to get a beer from the fridge.

"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You him thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.

"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.

"Let me rephrase. Best women friends."

He's holding you close, swaying a little to the song playing - you think Oscar's the one who added ABBA, or maybe it was you - and you smile a little as you sway with him. He hums songs without realizing it and it's one of his more endearing habits.

"But I'll miss you," he murmurs, tucking his chin on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—

"Not getting sappy on me are you?" Lando teases.

"You started it," you mutter. Turning, you wrap your arms around him. "We can live a few weeks without each other."

"I mean… You'll text right? Call?" he asks softly.

"FaceTime too," you promise.

It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.

"Jenga?" Oscar calls from the living room and Lando perks up instantly, nearly knocking you down in his haste to get back to the only other person he's going to miss during break.

Jenga with your boys is impossible. They're too competitive, know too many things they can say that make the other break and send the blocks flying.

"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.

The games are abandoned, and you're squished on the couch between them, Oscar's lips on your ear, Lando's head on your stomach as the three of you, tipsy and relaxed, begin making plans for the last days of break while a Studio Ghibli movie plays. It's not said by either of you, but you already know that the three of you will find each other long before the break is over.

The world is easier to bear when it's the three of you together. It's still new, still tentative, still scary as hell, but it feels oh so right.

[cafffine]

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Chewbacca & Han Solo, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker Summary: Taking care of three humans is stressful enough, but keeping them entertained? That requires an expert, and a very forgiving sense of humor. - Falcon ride to the beach from Chewbacca's pov 

“Chewie,” Luke wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Please, please, one more time.”

“Alright, okay, leave him alone,” Han grumbled. “I think we’ve heard enough.”

“No, no, one more!”

Chewbacca reached over and pat Han’s shoulder. “I don’t mind, but you are kind to look out for me.”

Han rolled his eyes and tapped away at the navi-computer. “Whatever, we’re gonna be there soon anyway.”

Leia gasped for breath and pushed herself back into the seat she’d slid out of. “Hold on, hold on I wasn’t ready, oh stars.”

Chewbacca smiled and busied himself with landing preparations while the twin’s laughter died down. He knew it made Han nervous sometimes, but he liked when everyone rode in the cockpit, traveling was better as a communal effort.

Luke leaned forward and popped his head between the pilot seats. “Okay, we’re good, please, just give it your best shot.”

“I’ll try,” Chewbacca hummed. “But it’s not going to come out right.”

Han reached up and got the stabilizers warming. “That’s the point, they’re making fun of you.”

“Han, Han,” Chewbacca soothed. “You’re too tense, I think you should take a nap once we arrive.”

“Oh, sure, and karking burn to death?”

“I brought an umbrella.” Chewbacca gestured to the back. “You will be safe.”

“Chewie, please,” Luke whined.

“Okay.” Chewbacca nodded. “Give me a moment.” The chances of success were in the negatives, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give it his best.

He hummed a few times to ready his vocal cords and clear his throat, this alone was enough to send Leia into a fit once more.

“You can do it.” Luke kicked his sister. “I believe in you.”

Chewbacca gave Luke’s little blond head an appreciative scratch, maybe he could do it.

“Take it slow,” Han advised. “It’s only two syllables.”

Chewbacca took a deep breath. “H-E,” he barked out, doing his damnedest to replicate the impossible sounds of basic. “L-L-L-L-OH.”

Luke shrieked and collapsed to the floor.

“No, oh Gods.” Leia shook her head, her eyeliner was starting to run. “That is too – I can’t handle this.”

“Good try.” Han had to turn towards the radio to hide his laughter. “That was a good try, buddy.”

“I think I’m getting better.” Chewbacca flicked off the shields and began redirecting power to engines in preparation for the end of their jump. “You should have heard me fifty years ago.”

“Why wasn’t I recording?” Luke moaned. “Wedge would lose his mind if I played that for him.”

Leia fanned her face and kicked her feet up on Han’s armrest. “I’m going to be thinking about that all day, that was amazing.”

“Buckle up, both of you.” Han tapped Leia’s foot. “And someone needs to put sunscreen on my back.”

Chewbacca raised his hand. “I’d be happy to-”

“No.” Han grimaced. “Anyone but you. Your fur always gets in it and – augh – no.”

“Sunscreen?” Luke flopped back into his seat. “There’s only gonna be one sun, how bad could it be?”

Leia tossed a bottle into his lap. “Bad. And if you don’t put it on, I’ll tell Threepio.”

“Rude.” Luke threw the bottle back at her. “I’ll do it when we get there.”

“We are here.” Han leaned back and braced himself as the Falcon snapped out of hyperspace and began gliding towards the bright turquoise of southern Glee Anselm. “Now put the damn sunscreen on, kid. You’re paler than me.”

“And don’t forget the tips of your ears,” Chewbacca added. He couldn’t imagine how terrifying it was for humans and their baldness. He’d left Han out in the sun for too long once and his shoulders started to peel the next day, it was a trauma he was still recovering from.

“Chewie, can you pull the map up? I haven’t been here in ages.” Han squinted down at the distant strips of sand and kicked the engine down to just above the speed limit. “Man, I hope we can find parking.”

Leia frowned. “If we had borrowed the Phantom from Hera like I suggested that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Sweetheart,” Han bit. “If we’d come in the Phantom, there’d be no one to stop Lando from taking my ship-”

“Who cares?” Leia tossed her hands up. “Let him have it! Who takes a freighter this big to the beach anyway?”

Han whipped around; finger raised. “Look, if you two want to fly yourselves two kriffing systems over-”

“Oh, come on,” Luke groaned “What did I do?”

“-then you are welcome to use that pathetic little shuttle. But if you want me to get you there? We’re taking the Falcon.”

“Don’t argue, please, don’t argue.” Chewbacca reached over and gently guided Han’s attention back towards the window. “I’ll drop you all off at the entrance and park the ship myself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Han muttered. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Them?” Luke squawked. “I haven’t done anything!”

“Shut up.” Leia threw the bottle of sunscreen back at his head. “It’s because he knows you’re on my side.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“It’ll be fine,” Chewbacca assured. “Just message me where you pitch the umbrella and I’ll be there when I can.”

Han shook his head, still bitter about Leia’s betrayal. “I just don’t think we should split up. It’s winter on six of the planets in this system, the place is gonna be packed.”

“I’m very tall.” Chewbacca sat up straighter to demonstrate. “I’ll find you.”

“Hey, are we drinking?” Luke leaned forward again, ignoring Han’s annoyed glance. “I heard there’s a place near the lifeguard tent that serves Margaritas Shili style.”

“Like you could handle that,” Leia scoffed.

“Not me.” Chewbacca hit the switch for the landing gear. “I need to have a clear mind when I fly you all home, but you can enjoy yourselves.”

“What’d he say?” Luke asked.

Han chuckled. “He said go crazy.”

Luke thumped Chewbacca’s arm. “That’s why he’s my favorite.”

Chewbacca waited until the ship was stable, then took Han’s seat as the group began to gather their towels and tote bags. The sky outside was clear blue and the sand pure white, Chewbacca did not look forward to washing it out of his fur.

He couldn’t complain, though. They’d chosen a good day, the crowds were worth it. The sun was just direct enough to keep the water warm without making the sand too hot for sensitive human feet to walk on.

“I don’t care how good it is, do not pay more than twenty credits for parking,” Han instructed. “We are not a bunch of clueless tourists.”

“I know, I know.” Chewbacca waved him off. “I’ll find a good spot.”

“Thanks, Chewie!” Luke waved before skipping out into the sun, followed by his sister and a yawning Han.

“Don’t forget the umbrella!” Chewbacca called after them. “Han! The umbrella!”

“Yep, yeah, got it.” Han came dashing back up the gangway and snatched the folded umbrella off the table. “Thanks, pal.”

“You are welcome.”

Chewbacca waited to start the engine until he could see the three of them trudging through the sand and towards the water. Han was speaking angrily with his hands and Leia reached around him to bat Luke in the head with her inflatable doughnut.

Chewbacca was happy for them. “H-E,” he began, then shook his head, one battle at a time.

[mimik-u]

“The Future” Thoughts:

Okay, ngl, I’ve been putting this watch off because I wasn’t quite ready to end the show, but 😭😭😭 y’know, that’s part of the series’s overarching thesis in a way. Things end, but life goes on and changes all the same.

So let’s do this. Let’s finish Future.

AUGHDHHDHDHS. The exercise callback!!

Djddjdjskeksjjs, Lion transporting directly onto the boombox and breaking it.

“They’ve been so protective of me these last few months since my meltdown.” 🥺

Cookie cats! The Crewniverse is already pulling out all the nostalgia stops. (Lmao, do y’all remember that meme where it was like Episode 1: Steven summons his mom’s shield by eating ice cream. And then Episode X: Steven discovers his mom was a war criminal. EIORIDDJDJDJ.)

Pearl delicately eating a bite of Cookie Cat and going scrumptious dieidjdjsjsjs.

THE GEMS SINGING COOKIE CAT AND THEN GARNET DEADPAN SAYING, “He left his family behind.” JESUS

Because I’m assuming she sees what Steven’s future holds in that very moment.

Steven anticipates the Gems to make a huge fuss of protest, but Pearl proffers an understated, “When are you leaving?”

“Uh, tomorrow!” “Oh, so soon! Well, all human adolescents need to seize their independence eventually. I’m so happy for you.” JSISJSSJ

The gems proffer their well wishes and walk away, leaving a bewildered Steven. They’re affecting a casualness that they absolutely don’t feel to try and be supportive to Steven, but it’s not exactly what he wanted. 🥺

OWOEFJDJJSSJ, PERIDOT AND LAPIS’S EXPRESSIONS AS BISMUTH FRETS.

“Listen to me, Steven! You can’t run away from yourself. Wherever you go, you’ll be there—trust me, I know.” The delivery on this is so funny, but also, yikes!! JEJDJDJS.

Peridot crying. 🥺 “Where am I going to find a Steven as good as you, huh? I like this one so much.”

AWH, STEVEN GIVING PERI ONE OF HIS SHIRTS!! I think this is a really subtle callback to “Catch and Release” when she asked what a shirt was, lmao

OH, MY GOD!! THAT ART SET FOR LAPIS!!!!!

AUGH THE ORIGINAL CRYSTAL GEM FLAG BC ONCE UPON A TIME, BISMUTH WAS INSECURE ABOUT REALLY BEING A CG AFTER WHAT SHE’D DONE. AUGSHHDHDHSHSHSHSHS

This world doesn’t deserve Steven Universe omg

“You make me so proud to be a Crystal Gem.” I love Bismuth with my whole ass heart

“I’m going to use my tears to make a watercolor painting of you.” KWOEOFIDKDJJDDJJDJSJSNSNSNJS.

Where’s that spongebob tears of sweater meme when u need it

JASPER JUST BULLDOZING THROUGH THE WALL ROROROCOFIEJJSJSJS

Okay, as much as I love Jasper breaking through the wall again just to make an exit, I really wish we could have seen a bit more of both Steven and Jasper processing the accidental shattering. Hhhhhhh, maybe in a comic someday lmao

“Whoa, even Jasper’s more upset than my own family.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Amethyst trying to deflect by being all rambunctious and mischievous. 😭😭😭😭😭

Golf Quest Mini is that game Steven played the first time he went into Rose’s room, wasn’t it?

Pearl playing the bass 🥺🥺 I mentioned this in my movie write up, but I really love this new bond she has with Greg over music.

And Pearl doing a good job of deflecting, too. Hhhhhhhehshshhshshs, y’all. 😭😭😭😭

“Well, bust my britches. It’s Steven Universe.”

AWH, THE WEDDING SCRAPBOOK

“And I hope that one day, you can help me plan my own.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Steven crying as Garnet warps away has me emo. Y’allllllllll. Have a proper emotional reaction, pl e a s e

I know it’s coming. I know that’s the purpose of this episode, but oh my. Go d 😭😭😭 My poor boy.

The emptiness of his room now that he’s almost done packing. 😭😭😭

“You’re allowed to have feelings, even petty ones. They love you, kiddo. They’re probably just trying to be supportive.” 😭

Ugh, I love Greg Universe.

HHHHHHHH, GREG MOVING INTO THE BEACH HOUSE. THE KERRY MOONBEAM POSTER SUVH SMSNJSJSSJJSS

“I guess the Gems are going to swap one Universe for another.” There’s definitely a double meaning in this sentence. ��

“It makes a kinda karmic sense that I just can’t resist.” 😭😭😭😭

Connverse kiss. 🥺

STRVEN YEETING THE BACK FUCK UP EKEOOEODJDKSOWISSIWOODOCOSOWKEMSKKSSKSN

“What’s wrong with you, guys?! Aren’t you sad I’m leaving?!”

THERE WE GO @ THE GEMS BURSTING INTO BIG ASS TEARS.

“Pearl agrees.” KWOEOFOFOIDIEKDIIDDIIDJSIDIDISIE

Oh, god okay. Them crying and hugging each other is all I needed from this episode 😭

“In fact, I’ve already planned over 363 versions of it.” KWKEKDJDJDS

“And we are a part of all of them. Wherever you end up, we will visit you to talk, to listen, to be there, whenever you need us. We love you, Steven.” I’M EMO 😭😭😭😭😭

I’m so glad that Dee Dee Magno Hall gets one more sob cry in 😭😭

THE TOWNIES SND THEIR GOODBYE BANNER AUSHSHJSHSHS

And Steven drives off into the distance as the sky glitters brilliantly above him.

His future is bright, full of stars.

This series—all of it—fundamentally changed my life. Thank you, Rebecca Sugar, and thank you, Crewniverse.

As thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me as I’ve wrapped up Future. It’s been amazing. 🖤

Final Ep. Thoughts: Kdeoksjdjsjs, this one really needed to be thirty minutes long, but my god, did they pull off a perfect last few minutes. 

Final Future Thoughts: I might write more on this later, but overall, not only do I think Future was an amazing installment in the series, but it was essential for the incredible work it did in showing the consequences of deep, lasting childhood trauma. That’s not a storyline you often see in media, especially as laid bare as the Crewniverse did with Steven’s story. I think it was a little rushed at times—I would have loved to see some more fallout from the bigger arcs (the shattering/Greg and Steven’s fight/more of Steven’s recovery), but I absolutely understand that the Crewniverse was working with time constraints. It’s an imperfect work, but as our very own Greg Universe said, if every porkchop were perfect... then we wouldn’t have hot dogs.

[cozycryptidcorner]

Abel the Asrai (slight lemon)

This was April’s patreon story, which I forgot to post here, my bad, folks. Looks like it’s going to be a double event this evening. 

There is a particular taste to the mist swirling around the beach, salty, new, the earth so still that you feel like it’s… off. The water of the ocean gently laps at the sand, though the waves are barely anything more than a small, muted ripple. Neither animals or bugs make any calls, an eerie silence descending on the landscape, save for the noises you and your crewmates make as you pull the rowboat to shore.

Your legs are wet, right up to your thighs, boots sloshing with an uncomfortable amount of water as you finally make it to the edge of the land, the oddness of the atmosphere slowly crawling under your skin, making you nervous. Quietly, you let out a breath, then turn to your crew members. “Same as we talked about on the ship. Scout only for food, do not talk with anyone here without coming to me first. We don’t know who to trust.”

A small murmuring of yes, captain lets you know that they hear and understand, so you have everyone split up, directing each group a certain direction. You don’t need any of them getting lost, so no one is allowed to stray far from the coast, especially since this is an unknown island. Leaving two of your gunslingers alone to guard the little rowboat, you head closer to the edge of the foreboding forest, large, green trees rustling quietly when you approach. There, you see a thin dirt path leading into the dark, so you take the liberty of moving deeper into the island.

The battle with the navy has left your crew in nasty shape, you need to find something to put into their stomachs. Hungry personnel tends to lead to unpleasant situations, and you’d appreciate avoiding those until you can get your people back to base. You take a moment to sit, pulling your shoes off and letting the water slosh out, then slip them back on. It’s still uncomfortable, but better than doing nothing.

There’s a biting chill to the air, even though it should be midday. Still, only the barest hint of sunlight peeks out from the foggy air, showing you the vaguest outline of the path, and after a few more minutes of nothing, you’re tempted to call it quits and head back to the beach. If there is a village tucked firmly into the center of the island, it might be too much trouble for you to go looking for it.

Turning around, you almost run into a man.

And that is strange, because you’re typically very, very good at discerning when someone is sneaking up on you.

He’s not particularly remarkable looking in his dull-colored, nondescript clothing, with a hood pulled up to his forehead. And he’s staring at you, his eyes wide, like he’s looking at a ghost.

You realize that maybe, with your rugged, choppy appearance, gun on your holster, machete in hand, blood staining the shirt that you haven’t bothered changing since the battle, he might feel a little threatened. Slowly, you lower the weapon, giving him what you hope is a decently friendly smile. You don’t want him running off screaming to the navy, because then you’d have to kill him, and you’re awfully tired of taking lives today, so you try to reassure him that you mean no harm.

“Hey,” you speak softly.

He’s slim, taller than you, but visually soft, you know you’d be able to take him on if it comes to that. Slightly shakily, he folds his pale, slim fingers together, and you can see his brain processing what’s happening. “Hello.”

A strange, weird pause.

You clear your throat, trying not to make any sudden movements, “Hi, um, I was just looking around for some fresh water and food for me and my crew. We, uh,” you glance down at the hastily tied bandage on your arm that was already coming free, “hit a rough patch a few miles out.”

“You’re human,” he says, almost in awe.

“Last I checked,” you say, trying not to sound too impatient.

“Is your crew human, too?” He asks,

“For the most part,” you say, slowly, “yes.”

He looks downright fascinated over that revelation, and before you have a chance to prod further, says, “you have a ship?”

You bristle, but do not sense any sort of malice coming from him. No, just a disturbing amount of… excitement, and that somehow also worries you. “Yes,” you say, slowly, not wanting to get into too much detail.

“Do you charter people?” He asks.

Ah, you see where this is going. “For the right price.”

He pauses, a bit of wind blown out of his sails. “What price are you seeking?”

“Gold, preferably. I’m willing to barter, though.” You look him up and down, more closely, eyes narrowed. What kind of person would need a sudden departure, and on that thought, what’s he even doing out here looking like some kind of… fancy vagrant?

“We would have to leave now,” he says, with a tone of urgency in his voice, “if I return for money, someone might suspect me of leaving.”

“So there is a village around here,” you say, turning around to see if you can find any hints of civilization. “Can you point me in their direction?”

“You don’t want to go there,” he says, frantic. “There’s a stigma against humans- you wouldn’t be welcome.”

“Why not.”

“All outsiders are… um, forbidden.”

There’s something else, something that you’re suspicious about. You don’t know what it is, yet, but you’re willing to indulge him in the idea that you’ll let him on your ship, even without knowing a lick about him. “Fine, what can you offer for me to give you safe passage?”

“I- uh,” he’s thinking now, brow furrowed, and you’re almost showing your impatience as he wastes your time. “I can… do stuff. On the ship, I mean.”

“Give me your hands,” you say impatiently, looking over his smooth, blemishless skin. “You’ve never worked a day in your life, have you?”

“I’m a fast learner,” he says, almost indignantly.

“I’m certain,” you say dryly, not entirely believing him, “but learning fast doesn’t mean you’re physically capable of work.”

He stares down at his hands like he’s never been so impossibly inconvenienced in his life by his own self. Another moment passes, still startling silent, and you’re just about to move around him before he says, quietly, “I can make clean water.”

You stop.

“Clean water, you say,” you muse, crossing your arms.

“Yes,” he sees that you’re listening, and that seems to get his hopes up. “Drinking water, straight from almost anything liquid.”

You mull the possibility over. No, it’s not unheard of, but it’s an incredibly rare trait that usually lands people with the ability one only the best, high paying ships, and that’s a luxury you and your scrappy crew can’t afford. Charting someone only on the promise of clean water? Unheard of. Most ships pay those who can travel with them.

“Okay,” you say slowly, “let’s say that you can- which is something you’ll have to prove before I let you on my ship. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere but here.”

He’s desperate, which means that you can take advantage of that. Not too much, though, the last thing you need is an angry member of your crew capable of poisoning everyone with the one thing necessary for basic survival.

“Fine.” You gesture for him to follow you. “We’ll test your skills on the shore, then, if it’s satisfactory, we’ll discuss your end of the deal.”

He seems remarkably happy, following almost uncomfortably close as you make your way back through the forest. Luckily for you, it seems that most of the scouting groups have also made their way to the rowboat, most of their hands empty. The moment you’re within their eyeshot, you see them tense, eyes piercing the figure behind you, both you hold your hands up to communicate that there’s nothing to worry about.

Two of your best scouts have arms full of large, leafy greens, which you suppose probably would taste unfortunately horribly bitter, but will at least keep some of you going. The cook is known for their miracles, anyway, so they might be able to do something with it.

“Is this all?” You ask, struggling to hide your disappointment.

“It’s what we could find without venturing too far into the forest, captain, but…” your scout eyes the newcomer, “it seems that there’s a village.”

“One where we will be unwelcome to, according to him,” you say vaguely, though you’re giving them the same amount of information that you know. “But the good news is that he claims to be able to purify water, and he’ll do it in exchange for safe passage to our destination.”

There’s a shifting ripple moving through your crew, and you don’t blame them because that’s a tall fucking claim. To prove it, though, you take a couple dozen sloshing steps into the ocean, tugging him along, until the both of you are waist-deep in water.

“Do it,” you demand, glancing back at your crew to make sure they’re watching.

“Um,” he shifts, eyeing your crew nervously. “Is there something I can put the water in?”

At your hard stare, everyone pats their pockets down, but no one was holding an empty flask or stray goblet for him to use, so with a defeated sigh, he cups his hands, settling it below the surface of the mirror-like surface of the ocean. His eyes are closed in concentration as he raises his arms back up, and a soft, warm blue glow slowly illuminates his fingers as whatever magic he uses cleanses the salt and infection. After a moment, his eyes open again, and the glow is gone, and a puddle of perfectly clear water in his hands.

Oh, right. You’re going to have to test this.

“Christ,” you mutter, raising his hands to your lips and sip. The water is cold, despite the heat rising to your face, and go figure, absolutely no trace of salt. Calmly, you take another sip from his hands, letting the water swish around in your mouth for a moment, just to be sure. Then, as a precaution to make certain he’s not fucking with you, you dip two of your fingers into the sea and lick. Augh, yes, that’s salty as hell, there’s no way that he can pull a fast one on you like this. You turn to your comrades. “It’s clean.”

“So we let him onboard?” One of your navigators asks.

“Yeah, we’ll put him to work filtering out clean water.” As you say this, you notice the last of your scouts approaching, though they are empty-handed for a few roots and such. “Everyone, get onto the rowboat.”

He seems pleased, at least, but not the kind of smug pleased that you loathe. Like he’s deeply relieved, as though you’ve saved him from some horrendous fate. He sits, almost primly, in the center of the boat as you and the rest of your crew work to move back from the island.

Steadily, inevitably, the waves slowly kick back up, as though slowly breaking through a damn, and the mist of the island recedes to reveal a bright, blue, almost cloudless sky. The fog hangs over the island like a thick, viscous shield, obscuring anything within from passing sailors. No one sane would want to attempt to traverse such an unmappable area unless they’re ridiculously desperate, like you.

He’s tugging at his hood, pushing it back as the sun begins to radiate down harder, and you don’t blame him. Without going back to get anything else to wear, he’s unfortunately overdressed for the grueling work you plan to put him through. The energy he’ll have to output is ridiculously high, especially to keep up with the demands of a full ship and its crew, even more so because a portion of your freshwater barrels had been spilled and toppled by the cannon fire.

Your ship is in bad shape, it’s easy to see the damage as the rowboat approaches, burn marks along the wood marking where some dicks from the navy went ahead and tossed over some flaming cocktails. Glancing over at your new passenger to gauge his reaction, he seems none the wiser about the seemingly dire state of everything, and instead looks over at you, a spark of unrecognizable joy in his eyes.

Once all of you are on the deck, you have one of your crew fill a bucket full of seawater, then direct your newcomer to clean, so they all see. So long as they understand that he has a vital part to play, they’ll be less likely to give him the almost ritualistic hazing that most new, low-end recruits end up saddled with. However, even as your best navigator takes her first sip of water, you know that they’re still going to rag on him.

“He can sleep with the rest of the crew,” you say in passing, waving in his general direction.

“Did you make an official deal?” Your second asks, their brow furrowed.

“Not yet, but he seems willing and able to filter water. I figure once we get to our destination, he can either stay on as a crewmember as long as he wants, or leave once we reach the ports.”

“I can write up an airtight contract,” your second offers. “He looks fae, he should be biologically required to adhere to it.”

You look over at him, and you find that your second is right. Long, pointed ears extend out from his neatly braided hair, his eyes are just a tad too large and innocent-seeming for someone roughly your age. His odd fascination towards your species makes you wonder if he’s seen your kind before.

“That’ll be great.”

The injured are not in exceptional shape, but with clean water, at least, gives them a much better chance to make it through than otherwise. As he helps you haul a few buckets down to the lower deck, you ask, knowing full well the fae’s common abhorrence towards names, “is there something you want to be called by?”

He thinks it over for a moment. “You said something earlier, that I was… um, willing, and able?”

“Yes?”

His movements are smooth and graceful, his posture so perfect that you wonder where he learned it. “I like those words. Willing?”

“Um, what about Abel?” You suggest instead, placing the buckets down on a table.

Those bright, brilliantly blue eyes become unfocused, if only for a moment. “Yes,” he says, faintly, “Abel will do nicely.”

Your crew is slow to trust him, and you hardly blame them. There’s something just… a tad bit uncanny about him and his behavior, the way he stares at things, unblinkingly, for just a little longer than necessary, how his long, slender fingers feel out the textures of things he touches, as though he’s experiencing those things for the very first time, and how he seems to always just happen to be in the same room as you, all the time. Your only reprieve from him is your own private quarters, where no one is allowed to go unless specifically invited.

A rule he breaks within the first couple of days.

You find him standing over your dresser with a bucket of water, his eyes brightening when he sees you enter. After letting out a frustrated breath, you strip off your coat, tossing it senselessly onto your bed, and unbutton the top of your shirt. “Abel, you’re not supposed to come into the captain’s quarters unless specifically invited.”

“Oh,” he says, as though this is the first he hears about it (it’s not), “well, I filtered the water for you, as requested.”

You wait. He doesn’t move.

“Thank you,” you say, begrudgingly, “you can leave it outside the door next time.”

“It might get tipped over, then I’d have to start from scratch.” A pause, then. “And I’m getting a bit fatigued from doing this all the time.”

“Alright, fine,” you allow, knowing that water purifying is a demanding chore and that you’ve been pushing him harder than he’s likely ever been before, “you can bring it straight to my quarters.”

Seemingly satisfied, he leaves, and you give yourself the sponge bath once you make sure the door is locked tight. Your hair is choppily cut and always away from your face, though you don’t spare much care to it beyond the occasional brushing. Your goal for sponge bathing is usually only dedicated to making sure everything isn’t rotting from lack of amenities, being at sea and exposed to the grimy elements can leave a body feeling… gross, for lack of a better term. Every time you dock somewhere, you take a full day for yourself to clean... everything up.

Every day, right after dusk, he’s waiting in your room with a bucket of water. You don’t even know how he gets in, you’re very good at remembering to lock your door when you’re not in there. When you ask about it, sullenly, he smiles and gently reminds you that you’ve given him permission to leave the water when he’s done purifying it.

Then Abel asks to wash your hair for you.

You’re so caught off guard by the offer that it takes you a moment to fully process what he said. “I’m sorry, you’d like to what?”

“I’d like to wash your hair if you’d like,” he says, “I know how.”

You have to mull it over, like with most of his downright bizarre requests. “You’d like to wash my hair. And you know how.”

“Yes,” Abel nods, “with the powdery stuff. Back home, I would get my hair washed by- uh, and it felt nice.”

You conveniently don’t mention the part where he skipped over who specifically washed his hair, and cross your arms over your chest. “And why exactly are you interested in doing that for me?”

“It’s a relaxing experience, and you look stressed.”

“Really.” You don’t believe that’s it. “And no other reason.”

“I mean, not in a bad kind of stress,” he’s backtracking now, “you’re not shambling around like the undead or anything, but this might help you with everything else.”

You give it a moment of thought, trying to come up with every single reason he might have for sidling up close to you. Does he want better rations? A cut of the bounty? Less water duty? You narrow your eyes and look him up and down, wondering if the place he comes from has the same set of you work hard to earn rules and that he can’t just flirt his way into a better position.

Maybe you can give him this lesson the hard way.

“Fine,” you wave your hand, sitting in front of your desk. “You can wash my hair.”

He smiles, wide, but not threateningly, more… happy? Satisfied? Pulling the bucket closer to his position as he comes back behind the chair, and runs his fingers through your hair, once. “You’re quite tense, captain.”

It’s a struggle for you to relax, your jaw usually tightly gritted, shoulders tense, and ready to fight. Still, though, you don’t think that Abel would try to do anything, even with the clause in the contract forbidding him to hurt anyone in your crew, including you. Quietly, you lean back in your chair, stretching your neck as you look up to the ceiling, hands tightly gripped on the armrests, your breathing calm and controlled as he begins.

Abel’s fingers run through your hair, soft, but firm, nails gently scratching at your scalp. It feels good, despite the fact that you’re not so sure if you enjoy this show of intimacy, but you don’t voice complaints. It’s been a while since your hair got such a thorough washing, and he seems to know what he’s doing. Section by section, he works, parting your roots away, rubbing the baking soda in with the pads of his thumbs in soft, swirling motions.

Slowly but steadily, he works his fingers down your head, his knuckles brushing against the nape of your neck. Shivers run through your spine, an odd feeling churning in your stomach. The coolness of the water as he begins to rinse your hair gives you something else to focus on other than his closeness.

You try to get your voice to work, if only to think about anything but how his skin feels against yours. “Why did you want to come with us?”

He pauses, his entire body seemingly just stopping, fingers still tangled in your hair.

“If it’s because of something bad, we likely won’t care,” you try to prod, “most of us are murderers and thieves, anyway.”

“I-” his movements resume as he struggles for the words, “I didn’t want to get married.”

“Oh, that’s it?” The shadiness of his actions made you think that he committed patricide or something, not escaping an arranged marriage. “Half of my crew are dodging familial obligations, too. My second was almost sold off to a man with six wives.”

“I just couldn’t go through with it,” he’s almost defensive, though you suppose he wasn’t expecting such an anticlimactic reaction, “I didn’t even like my fiance… don’t get me wrong, she was a nice girl, but she was so-” he fumbles for the word, “dry.”

Your hairbrush isn’t something that you use beyond a couple of swipes in your hair, but Abel takes his time with it. Almost moving strand by strand, he makes his way from one end of your scalp to the other, brushing out any remnants of grease and powder, dipping your hair in water every so often to keep it soaking wet.

“There must have been an easier way for you to leave,” you say.

“None with such ease and without the high likelihood of getting caught,” he clears his throat, “I saw my chance for escape and took it.”

“That’s understandable,” you say, closing your eyes for a moment. “Are you happy with your decision?”

There’s a pause, telling you that he’s actually thinking over your question. “Work is difficult, but,” he adds quietly, “I prefer it to being an idle husband.”

You’re silent, thinking over his statement. “I can understand that. The life of a field worker wasn’t quite for me, either.”

He waits until your hair is all the way brushed out, then wraps a cloth around it to absorb the water. “May I do this again?”

Again, your suspicion flares. “Why?”

“Because I enjoy your company… and you don’t seem to pay me much mind when I’m with the other crew.”

“Jealous?” You ask, mostly joking.

“Very,” he says, and you’re not sure if he’s serious or not. “Sometimes I just want you all to myself.”

“I… suppose if you’d like to.”

“Good,” he says, “I get bored with nothing more than the water for company.”

You’re standing, rubbing the cloth into your locks to help it dry faster. “Do none of my crew interact with you?”

“I don’t think they trust me… even with the contract.”

You let out an impatient huff. “I’m sorry about that, they’ll warm up to you eventually. Or we’ll hit land first, and you’re free to go.”

There’s a long, drawn out pause before he agrees, “right.”

Washing your hair every single day would result in in you getting sick of how close Abel wants to be with you every time he does it, and would leave your hair dry and brittle. The powder is suitable for sucking up the oily grease that permeates your scalp after a few days, and it’s good for a complete purge once it gets out of control, but definitely shouldn’t be used regularly. Still, he makes sure that it’s a weekly event, and every Thursday evening, he’s in your room, bucket on your desk.

You figure out quickly that he doesn’t like talking about himself. He instead seems entirely focused on you, your life as a pirate, and before, though he answers your questions in that odd, monotone voice he uses when he’s not enjoying himself. Abel also struggles to acclimate into your crew, as most of them aren’t readily accepting passengers who plan on flouncing off the moment you hit land. However, he doesn’t seem to give any indication that he is planning on leaving. So you ask him outright.

“What are you going to do when we dock on land?” You ask as he slowly works his fingers into your hair.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to stay on as a member of my crew, or are you going to leave?”

He stops for a moment, all you can hear are the ripples from the water bucket as the ship slowly makes its way up and down with the waves, and his breathing.

“Are you okay?” You ask, peeping your neck a bit to get a look at him.

“I’m fine,” he reassures you, getting back to work, “I didn’t realize that I had an invite to continue on as a water purifier.”

“Oh, I guess I should have mentioned it more concretely before.” You lean back again, closing your eyes. “You’ve done more than adequate work, Abel, you’re more than welcome to stay on board and receive a cut of our bounty.”

“Really?” He asks like he can’t believe it.

“I’ll have to have my second draft up another contract, but yeah, Abel, you can stay if you’d like.”

“Say my name again,” he says, and you can hear a smile behind those words.

“What, Abel? Why?”

He lets out a satisfied sigh. “I just like it when you use my name. It sounds nice with your voice.”

You try not to snort. “Okay, whatever you say.”

Silently, he continues to work, as he usually does, parting your hair into neat little sections, going over them with a few pinches of baking soda, letting his nails gently scratch at your scalp. You’d never admit it to anyone, much less Abel, but you do feel better after each of your little sessions together, whether that be because of the cleanliness, or because of the company, you’re still having an internal war with yourself over.

A part of you doesn’t really want to admit that you’ve let him get under your skin, that you’ve started to care, because you’re not supposed to show favoritism towards any single person within your crew, but unfortunately… unfortunately it seems that he’s growing on you, rapidly, like mold on room temperature meat that’s been left out for a few days.

“I saw you flirting with your second in command,” he says, quietly, “are you and she together?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Juliet? No, she’s great and all, but not my type. We were just joking around.”

“What about that navigator?”

“Which navigator?”

“The one with the puffy black hair.”

“Oh, you mean Alexander,” you resist rolling your eyes, “he and I are just friends.”

“What about the-”

“Are you going to go down the list of my crew members to see if I’m in a relationship with them?” You ask, almost sourly, wondering what’s gotten into him.

“Are you? In a relationship, I mean.”

You sit up, out of his reach, your wet hair dripping and soaking into your shirt. “What does it matter?”

He’s trying not to look flustered, but there’s a telling blush in his dusty blue skin. “I was just wondering, out of curiosity. You seem- uh-”

“I seem what?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me. I seem like what?”

“Like someone who can have whoever they want, when they want.” He says, almost sheepishly.

“Who, me?” You think he’s joking, he has to be joking, but his kind cannot lie.

He’s even more flustered now, backpedaling so hard he might snap his proverbial neck. “I just mean- um- you have this aura of confidence, captain, it exudes from you, and I thought that you might currently be… well, involved with someone.”

You squint at him, trying to see where he’s taking this. “So what? Does it matter if I’m involved or not?”

“No- no, of course not, stop looking at me like that, it was a stupid question.”

You settle back down, a tad bit tenser than you were before, though mostly from being caught off-guard by his question. Feeling like someone’s swept your legs from under you, verbal or otherwise, is uncomfortable, you never like it when someone has the upper hand. So, in the same fashion, but more casually, you ask, “what about you? Besides your fiance, have you seen anyone?”

“Not… particularly.”

“Hm, not particularly?” You do the thing where you take where the conversation is going and get there twice as fast to regain control of the situation. “No one caught your eye? You’re not allowed to take any lovers?”

“Not before-” he mumbles, something you can’t hear.

“What was that?” You ask innocently.

“That was a no.”

“Was it,” you smile serenely, “because it sounded like something about your wedding night?”

Abel sounds like he wants to throw himself into the sea. “I can’t... until the wedding night.”

“Who told you that you couldn’t have sex until the wedding night? What’d they say would happen? Hairy hands? That’s a myth, you know.” God, it never crossed your mind that he might never have been intimate before, especially with how fixated he seemed on you as if you might be his next conquest. Not his first. That definitely changes things.

The massaging slowly comes to a stop. “Where I’m from,” Abel says, slowly, “they have ways of making certain that it happens.”

You almost choke on your own spit. “I’m sorry, they have what?”

“They have ways of guaranteeing purity until the marriage night.” His voice is soft, but gruff, as though he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“That- that is so awful,” you feel pity, yes, but also empathy for a story that you’ve heard before- if in less extreme circumstances, but you’re suddenly overcome with your desire to solve other people’s problems in the hopes it might help fix yours (it never does). “Do you remember the direct wording of the curse?”

“I can’t forget it.” He sounds tired, like he’s had this conversation before. “I cannot feel the euphoria while in someone else.”

“You can’t feel euphoria while inside someone else? That’s it, exactly?”

“Well, no, I cannot… spill, inside someone.” He sounds even more sheepish than before, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear.

“That’s all?” You ask, frowning. “You can’t spill while inside someone else, but can someone else spill inside you?”

“No.” He says quietly.

“Alright,” it doesn’t take you too much of you to fully process and work to come to a new solution, “but if someone doesn’t spill inside you,” you try not to grimace at the language used, “can you… um, spill so long as you’re not inside anyone? Like touching yourself?”

He mumbles something, you take it as a soft yes.

“If someone enters you without spilling, do you think you might be able to try… um, the whatever?”

“I don’t know.” He looks like he hadn’t thought of it before. “Perhaps? But how would that happen?”

“Alrighty, then,” you try not to feel the heat in your cheeks, “have you ever heard about pegging?”

[whyamiinopmhellagain]

Vomit, Amai Mask x Reader Soulmate AU

Because I felt like writing one. I may do someone else next. I made up this AU, it’s sort of a twist on the red string of fate one. Also, huge thanks to @metalbatandzenko​ for sitting through me gush about this story. Enjoy! 

Warning, webcomic spoilers for chapters 119-121. 

Soulmate AU: When you are in the close proximity of someone you love romantically, you breathe out a specific color. If your soulmate breathes out the same color, connecting a line between your lips, you are meant to be. 

Amai had seen all kinds of colors throughout his career. Eager girls giggling out hues of playful pinks and sky blues, a few boys snorting out strong purples and tangerine oranges, but nothing matched his hue. He did everything in his power not to show his breath. He saw people with black and grey hues as ugly.

As ugly as he saw himself. 

Nevertheless, everyone told him that his soulmate would slip through the cracks eventually. That he’d see them someday at one of his concerts, he would save them from a monster attack, or he’d hire them to work behind the scenes with him. He was told destiny would bring them together. 

He didn’t believe in destiny. 

So, he threw himself into his work. 

He sat at his table, in front of his multiple security guards on each side of the platform his table was on top of. Earlier this morning, the lines were out the door and around the block for this one concert, with a fan sign for people with the overpriced VIP afterwards. Already burnt out from his concert and the multiple hours of shaking peoples hands, signing posters, hearing stories about people using his music to get through hard times (which delighted him), and endless love confessions (which bothered him to no end), he just wanted this to be over. 

And, of course, the thing that made this whole thing ever more difficult, he saw their colors. 

The gorgeous greens and bright yellows, the soft periwinkles, the rich browns and fiery reds. Some of them even brought their soulmates with them, saying how they met at one of his concerts. One particular fan said how them had met their soulmate literally ten minutes ago in line. 

“Oh, congratulations!” He said, with practiced elegance and charm, right after the lucky pair had just had told him their strings connected. They were glowing as he signed their merchandise. 

He plastered a smile on his face again. “Thanks for coming, and have a good day!” He waved them off.

“Thank you! You too, Amai-sama!” The shorter one of the couple waved back, as the taller on presses a kiss to their cheek. 

Why, oh, why, he wondered, did he have to tell them they had just met? He already heard the screams of the people in the back, congratulating them on finding true love. 

“Mr. Amai, Sir. You have about 10 more people.” His attendant turned to him.

“Thank you for the reminder.” As his mental battery drained from more interactions with eager fans, he just wanted this to end. The last person was in a pair of black pants, combat boots, and one of his grey Beautiful Heart tour sweatshirt.

“Hello!” He said, flashing a charming smile. “Come forward please!”

“Hi.” You whispered out softly with a gentle wave. You step forward clutching a CD close to your chest. 

“So, did you enjoy the-” Out of his bottom lip grew a string of a vile greenish-brown. It looked like something he’d see in his toilet after he ate that bad sushi at an A-class dinner party he was forced to go to. After picking up his head, he sees that dreadful string of vomit connecting you two by the lip. Your eyes meet, and his pupils widen. Inside the well of black, all you feel is his brain being racked, and his soul flooded with waves of fear. But, your instinct showed you something.

There was a small glimmer in the very back of his mind. 

“Amai-sama.” You took the pen out of his hand, and rubbed his palm. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

He took a deep breathe, and curled his fingers around yours. “To my dressing room.” He demanded as he lightly tugged you by the hand to his room. Meanwhile, you still felt that string yank at your bottom lip. He ran you backstage, dragged you over the linoleum floors of the hallways, and sat you down on a white couch. He flicked on the lights, and took a seat in his chair opposite the vanity. He was staring into the mirror, surrounded by shimmering light bulbs, but his legs were facing you back at you. He stared at his reflection, his eyes followed the string from his heavy eye bags, running make-up, to his bottom lip being pulled to the right. He followed the disgusting string to your bottom lip, which was being tugged out so he could sit in his chair. 

“Amai-sama.” You speak as clearly as you can. “Can you, face me? This kind of hurts.” He makes eye contact with you and made the same examination. Your eyes widen and smiled as he got closer. Closer, and closer until your mind into a haze and you couldn’t remember what he was wearing, or if he was even wearing a shirt. He was right up against your forehead. You leaned in slowly. 

“Um, what are you doing?” He asked, still sitting at his vanity.

“Augh, wait, you didn’t move?” You sort-of shouted, face completely flushed.

“No, I just turned to faced you.” 

“Oh.” You turned your head to face the floor.

“The string, miss.” He says. 

“Oh, sorry, Amai-sama.” You picked your head up quickly, staring at the string connecting you. The way his lip awkwardly tugged at the string as you stared at each other made you want to go in head first into his lips, his embrace, his heart. “Also, Amai-sama.”

“Yes?” He contemplates what to do. 

“My name is (Y/N), if you’d rather use that.” You face somehow got redder then before as you awkwardly looked away.   

“Okay, (Y/N). Also, call me Amai. Just Amai. Good?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed, as he massaged his temple. “Okay, you need to just kiss me once, and we can go our separate ways.”

“Wait, WHAT!”

“I don’t have time for you. Just kiss me, I’ll sign your poster and you can go live your life, and I’ll live mine.”

“B-b-but, you’re my soulmate! We’re destined to be together!” You felt a lump in your throat form. 

“Destiny doesn’t exist, (Y/N).” He rolled his eyes, and stood up to meet you. You, on the brink of tears, stood up, and as his golden irises met your watery ones, he was was transported to a white sandy beach, where he saw you in your finest attire, a small bouquet in your hands, walking straight up to him past the benches of people here to support you both, with love written all over your face. After a couple seconds of this, the only thing on his mind was lust. Desire. Love for his soulmate. He went out of this vision, known as Soulmate’s Haze, as you took your last two steps toward him, with tears staining your face. 

Without hesitation, he grabbed your cheeks, and yanks them up to meet his. 

Time stopped. 

His lips molded to yours as he put just enough pressure on them. He let his hands slowly trace down the sides of your figure, until they reached your hips, where he let them rest. Your heads turn slightly to the right, and you practically threw your arms around his neck, leaning into this affection that you would only receive once. And you wanted it, craved it. You felt his lips smack against yours, tasting his lipgloss and the concealer that had run down his face. While make-up wasn’t the most appetizing, the feeling of connecting with the one you are meant to be with made him taste sweet and fulfilling. All good things do come to an end though, and as you both were desperately hanging on for any last taste of the forbidden fruit, you had to leave for air.  

“Wow.” Was all that you could say, arms still wrapped around his neck, eyes locked on his his, as you smiled. You knew you were going to have to leave soon, but that thought was pushed to the back of your mind as you enjoyed his embrace. 

All he could say about your appearance right now was that you were shining. This was it! Everything he ever wanted! He didn’t even know how badly he craved this love, this warmth, this passion until it snuck into his life. 

He didn’t want to hurt you though. He knew what was happening to his body, his mind. He knew his couldn’t keep this up forever, and he’d just end up hurting you. But, he’d hurt you now to leave, and he wanted this feeling so bad. And, who knows, maybe this could fix him? 

All he could see now, was a long, happy life with you, and your radiating beauty. 

He gazed into that glow you had after breaking the string, and, though he tried to resist, he soon realized he was in way too deep. His conscious was screaming at him to stop, resist, pull away, but whatever was left of his human nature pulled him back to that glow, for a bit of self-indulgence that was rare, if he was being generous. 

And he didn’t know that something so ugly could taste so good.

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

Requests open! *Unedited*

Extra:

“Hey, (Y/N).” He takes your face gingerly in his palm, tilting it towards his. “My real name is Beauto. Call me that from now on.” He smiled in a way he never thought he would ever again.   

[junkosakura01]

A Gift for Lucifer

Updated fic in my AO3 account: junkosakura01

* Fanfic based on Lucifer’s 2020 birthday event + one major spoiler.

* Junko is my “Obey Me!” in-game name & [ideal] persona here. IRL I can do simple massages like in this fanfic (and no, I can’t make one moan like this one, lol). Please also excuse my biases here.

- - - - - -

Before the surprise party plan for Lucifer was set into motion, and Junko was almost seen through by the man himself, Asmodeus had given Junko some extra tips to win over the birthday boy.

“As much as I appreciate your help, Asmo, but I still don’t know what to give him…” Junko’s stoic face remains the same, yet her tone of voice felt sad.

She has been with them for a long while now, and a lot has already happened—reconciling the brothers with each other and even learning about her ancestor.

“Want me to help set up a romantic mood when you both get back?” Asmodeus smiled but there was a hint of slyness in his tone.

Ever since after they learned Junko is Lilith’s descendant, Asmodeus was always the one who notices her being nervous sometimes when she’s with Lucifer.

“Thanks, Asmo, but I think I can find one during our da—I mean, the plan tomorrow.”

“Hmm~ If you say so, Junko~” He grinned at her, and for hearing her almost a say a certain word.

The next day, Junko and Lucifer were out on their date, with Mammon and Leviathan in tow hiding from them. Unfortunately, those two were eventually found out by Lucifer and sent them home, but Junko played dumb so the party won’t be ruined.

“I’ll trust you for now. Come, let’s continue.”

“Yes, Lucifer. Let’s go shopping over there.”

Moving on, they also went to a shop for a bit and bought matching necklaces for each other. Their date ended when Junko’s phone alarm rang, signaling party time. They soon returned home, and Lucifer was greeted with smiles and cheers. Diavolo laughed at him because he was right when he expected Lucifer to forget his own birthday.

“Ah yes, today is my birthday,” Lucifer grimaced. His embarrassment surprised them but he immediately reverted to his usual face again.

“We all prepared this for you.” Junko said as she gently tugged on Lucifer’s sleeve.

“Is that so? I’m glad it didn’t turn into a disaster,” Lucifer retorted.

“My livestream was a disaster though…” said Leviathan as he gently caressed his camera. “Those juicy moments between them was—“

“Ooh! Yeah, I was enjoying that!” Asmodeus frowned. “Gosh, Lucifer, you should’ve let him and save it as a remembrance.

“Ehh…?” Junko grimaced at them, but inside she was feeling embarrassed.

After everyone had given their messages and now eating, Junko sheepishly went near Lucifer’s face and whispered, “I… I have something to give you too, but can I go to your room later for it…?

Surprised, Lucifer’s eyes widen with his fork halfway out from his mouth. He didn’t expect her to say that. Like a confused Mammon, a lot of scenarios ran through his mind, wondering about her gift.

“Sure, I’ll be expecting you then.” Lucifer replied and ate another piece of cake. He didn’t bother to press her further.

“Ah, thank you, Lucifer!” Junko faintly smiled and caught his attention, so did Asmodeus.

”I guess she found out what to give him, eh?” Asmodeus smirked at them. He’s also the only one who noticed their matching necklaces, but he assumed that it wasn’t the one Junko planned to give as a present.

“What are you mumbling about, Asmo?” Satan asked as he grabbed his plate away from Beelzebub, who was aiming his fork on Satan’s plate.

“Oh nothing, I’m just talking to myself.”

Later that evening, after the party and everyone else were in their rooms, Junko silently went to Lucifer’s room and then knocked on the door.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Something clicked and made the door slightly ajar, she then went inside. On his chair, Lucifer was enjoying a glass of blood wine while reading a book.

“You’re finally here. What is it that you want to give me?”

The timid and quiet girl didn’t reply, but instead raised her hands up as if she was trying to scare or scratch him.”

“I don’t get it.” He bluntly said. His eyebrows slightly furrowed and he was starting to feel annoyed.

“I’m confident in giving massages… We already got matching necklaces, but this is something I wanted to give you. Plus, if I told you earlier, they might hear it and get misunderstood.”

“Alright, I forgive you,” he smiled at her, “But you were a little misleading earlier too. You had a different expression on your face while telling me. Asmo was also giving us a strange look as well.”

“Ah… Haha…” She laughed softly from being embarrassed.

The proud eldest demon brother sighed but with a relaxed look on his face. Putting down his wine glass and book, he then sat on his bed. A pat on it signaled her to follow.

“Sorry, but I need you to take your clothes off. Back massages are best without it.”

“You’re pretty bold and assertive right now,” he chuckled. “I’d rather not, but if you say so.”

Slowly he started undressing—making her flinch after every top layer was removed. He’s unaware of her current expression right now.

Being weak to good-looking people, specifically handsome men, Junko can’t help but fawn over his revealed body and reflexively hides her face in embarrassment. It’s also the first time Lucifer had shown some skin to anyone other than Diavolo when they went to the beach together.

“Hehe… What, was it just an act? I thought you were going to give me a massage.”

“Ugh… That grin…!” She thought, and had a pained yet satisfied look on her face. “A-Ahem…! Now lie face down.”

He did as he was told and she nervously positioned herself near him while on his bed, “É-Excuse me…” She softly said.

After stretching her arms and hands to warm up, she started massaging him from his head, then to his shoulders, to halfway down his back. At first she had trouble with how stiff Lucifer’s back is, but as it went on, she was also trying to calm herself after hearing him moan and groan from the massage.

“Ah…! That spot… Mm…”

“Yeah, this lump is a sore spot. I bet there’s a lot more; I’ll beat those up too.”

“Go easy on me…”

“This is already my normal massaging strength. You must be so tired, Lucifer,” she said and then pressed him harder with her palms, “I know you’re doing a lot, but I never expected your back to be this stiff! You should really learn to take a break sometimes.”

“Hngh…!” he huffed and tried to suppress it, but he was also enjoying the pain melting away. “Haah…ha…”

“If it’s getting painful, tell me, okay?”

“Just carry on… Ah! I’m not just used to this… Gaah…”

“Please stop being like that…you’re going to give me a heart attack…” She thought again. She felt her cheeks slightly warm and her blank expression was starting to break from seeing glimpses of Lucifer’s sexy yet pained look, also while he’s trying to bury his face on his pillow.

“Lucifer… Really, please tell me if it’s hurting you now…” her tone was starting to crack as well and having a huge urge to laugh at him too. Right now, she’s the only one seeing him in this vulnerable state giving into a good back massage, and she can’t help but feel happy about it too.

“No…continue if you’re still not finished yet… Augh…” he replied weakly, but now his face was completely buried on his pillow. Junko finally chuckled a bit and switched to a gentler pressing since his muscles became tender.

After several kneading and down to his lower back, which made Lucifer yelp a bit from the pain, she asked him to sit up next so she could move on to his arms. She sat next to him, and with her small, feminine hands, Lucifer was surprised that was exerting a decent amount of force in massaging him from the start. The tension in Lucifer’s arms seems to have faded away too when his expression relaxed some more.

“When did you learn how to do this?”

“My mother always asked me for one whenever she needed it. I learned when I was young.”

“I see. This has been very comforting, thank you, Junko. My body feels lighter now.”

“Good. You’re welcome. “She nodded and continued massaging his hands as it she was playing with it.

Strong, big hands…it was definitely different from hers and Asmodeus’, who has a beautiful body and was the first to experience her skill. Lucifer’s hands were often covered in gloves so this is also the first time she sees the red nail polish on his fingernails.

“What’s wrong?”

Junko shook her head, “Nothing. It’s…just that your hands are bigger than mine.”

“Of course it is,” Lucifer chuckled and patted her head.

“Okay, we’re done now. How do you feel? I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep well tonight.”

“Indeed. I’ll return the favor someday and when you need it too. Or do you want me to massage you too right now while you’re still here?”

Her eyes widen and could feel him teasing her. “E-Ehhh…!?”

”Kidding. You’ve finally given me a different expression again.  You’re going to end up grumpy like Satan if you keep that stoic face on,” he smirked at her, but he was actually trying to contain his laughter.

“Geez…” she sighed in disappointment. “It’s not a favor, but if you say so… Thanks, I’ll look forward to what you’ll come up with.” Junko replied, with her head down in embarrassment, but she was smiling.

-End-

(Bonus)

[dylanobrienisbatman]

I saw you were a nickjune shipper, so i thought i'd ask you the question/questions going around!! 1.) What’s your favorite Nick & June scene? 2.) Which scene between them did you find most heartbreaking? 3.) Other than Nick or June, who is your favorite character on the show?

This has been sitting in my ask box for ages, but im finally ready to answer it!! (mostly because i kept kind of forgetting, sorry anon lol) 

1 - Favourite Nick June Scene 

There are so many scene between them that i LOVED, but i think I have a couple favourites that I can’t pick between. 

The scene in season 1 where she actually tells Nick her name is one of my favourites of the whole series, not just between them. I think its such a meaningful moment for her to just be breaking down and so angry at the whole world and Nick is trying to be there for her and he calls her offred and she just cant take it anymore and angrily tells him not too, but what else could he call her? He has no idea what her real name is, but he can’t just call her nothing? It’s so heartbreakingly real between them in that moment. And then when he learns her real name, and he doesn’t just call her by her name, but he says ‘nice to meet you, June’. Because this is the moment when he truly meets the real her? AMAZING. (Gif by @skyshipper)

The second scene is the scene in the season 2 finale, when June is getting pushed to escape by Rita. She has little Holly/Nicole in her arms, and she’s got a chance to get out, but she just stops, and sees Nick out of the window, and almost waits for him. Like she loves him, so so much. They have a child together, a family. She knows she has to get out. She knows she needs to save herself and her child from this horrible world they’re trapped in. But she needs to know that it’s okay for her to get out without him. She needs to know that taking their child away is okay. That maybe never ever seeing him again is okay. And then he just looks at her, and you can see the love he has. He loves her SO very much. And he just… nods. Because he knows that she is worried that leaving him, about taking his daughter from him, not because she needs his permission but because she loves him and doesn’t want to be without him. It’s so beautiful and moving and my heart just broke. (Gif by @pegsccarter) 

Them holding their baby together. Augh. The saddesst, most beautiful, loveliest moment on the whole show. Just standing there together, Nick finally really getting to meet his daughter, June finally telling him she loved him? My whole world was a mess during that scene. I was sobbing. Nick just softly talking to his little girl, June telling little Holly that this is her father. Not Fred, the horrible man who had taken her from her real parents, but Nick. This kind, good hearted soul, who protected June, and loved June, who tried to help June get free, this man is Hollys real father. They got to be a family, for just a brief little warm moment, in a small little bubble, and it was so beautiful.

The scene where Nick finds June in the rain. Seems like a weird choice, but it’s such a powerful moment for them. She has resigned herself to letting their baby die, letting herself die. She is outside, in the cold, she’s been bleeding for days, and somehow, the universe lets Nick find her. Nick saves her, and in doing so saves their child. Their child who was strong enough even then to survive this, when most babies would have been long lost to it. Nick finds his little family, broken and almost doomed, and saves them, and in doing so he gives June the strength to keep fighting. So sad, but also such a strong moment between them. (Gif by @pegsccarter)

2 - The most heartbreaking scene (Again i couldn’t pick just one haha) [Also, why are half of the heartbreaking moments between them also the happiest ones? Gosh this show is distressing and beautiful]

The most heartbreaking scene between them, for me, was probably the scene where she just broke down outside after Hannah left, and he just held her. I feel like its a pretty obvious one, but gosh watching her loose Hannah again, and then knowing that Nick is the only person in the whole world who is there for her anymore. Her fellow handmaids are there, but they can’t protect her. They can’t do anything more than she can. Rita is there for her, but she can only do so much. But Nick, Nick loves her, and she loves him, and he holds her while she goes through the worst loss of her life for the second time. It’s devastating and such a strong moment between them.

Another for me was when Nick told her about seeing Luke. It’s such a happy moment for June, and such a devastating moment for Nick, and that moment for me really proved to me that Nick was the perfect man for June. He didn’t have to tell her that Luke said he loved her. He could have said nothing. He could have only told her about Moira, or just about the letters, but he told her about Luke. He told her about the husband she lost, who she knew was alive, but probably always wondered how true it was. She hadn’t heard it from anyone who she really knew she could trust, and now she knows. And then he told her he loved her, and in that moment he gave her so much hope, on so many different levels. Hope for her own escape, hope to find her family again, and the hope that comes with finding love in such darkness and loss. 

This scene was really beautiful but also just super sad for me because it was such a moment of like, hope mingled with clear understanding that its so unattainable. The two of them, talking about the future they want to have with their baby, on a beach, naming her what they wanted, holding her close and raising her to be the person they hoped she would be. It’s a fantasy, which they know is so unreachable, and its such a soft and warm happy moment between them but its just… laced with so much sadness. Augh. 

The scene where Nick finds out June is pregnant is also so very sad. This moment between them should be so happy, especially in a world where having children is so rare. They aren’t quite ‘in love’ yet, but they are well on their way, especially Nick I think, but this moment between them is so ripe with just agony. They will probably never get to know their child. They wont get to raise their baby. They wont get to name their child, or hold them, or be their parent. Nick might get to spend his life watching her grow up, but June will be sent away to another family, and their baby will never get to know her, and even if the baby does know Nick, he will always just be their driver. He will just be… the guardian in their home. He wont get to be their father, and June wont get to be their mother. Its so devastating, and yet so full of joy somehow. In that moment, surrounded by the most horrible things in the world, they get one small moment where they get to just live, for a moment, in this warm little moment where they realise they made a life together. 

3 - Favourite Character other than Nick/June 

Again i feel like I should do a top (#) because its so hard to pick. 

I love Rita. I didn’t really feel a lot for her in the early bits of the first season, because she wasn’t really given a lot to do, but as time went on, her righteous indignation at everything in her life in Gilead was just brilliant. She had so many amazing moments all through and I love her a lot. Her moments with June after Eden’s death were devastating. Her guilt at how she treated this girl, when she had no real reason to feel that way. They were all trapped in this horrible place, no one could ever blame her for being unwilling to try and be warm with Eden, but that moment of just pure human grief and guilt was so sad. And then all of her many moments with June and Nick, gosh i love Rita. She just wanted to keep June and Holly safe at any cost. She’s such a badass. 

MOIRA. Gosh Moira. Resigned to the life as a handmaid, forced to be grateful for her status, like Emily, because she’s a gender traitor and should be glad she didn’t die? And then forced to work as a prostitute for the vile men of Gilead, who subjugate women and created this religious community and then violate all of the tenements of their world because they have the privilege, the wealth and the power and the gender to do so. She gets out. She gets free. And shes so close to giving up. She so close to just resigning herself to this life of loss and sadness, but then she gets to help. She gets to stand up to her abusers. She gets to be with Luke, who is the closest thing she has to family. Moira got away from the horrors of Gilead, and is going to get to help bring it down from the outside. Gosh I love Moira.

Emily is one of my favourite characters, especially into season 2 when we learned more about her backstory. She has such a strong soul, and so much ANGER inside her. I have such a huge place in my heart where I hold angry women, and Emily just fell right into that spot. She became a handmaid, and she was meant to be be grateful? Because as a lesbian she was lucky they didn’t kill her? She was meant to be grateful that her status as a fertile woman saved her life, separated her from her wife and son, and resigned her to a life of being raped and used as a broodmare? Instead she fought back. She killed people for her right to be a human being. She refused to go quietly to her doom. She stabbed Lydia in the back because her life was worth more. And now she gets to be free. 

Alma. I wish we had more like, character building for her, but I really love her. Anytime she shows up I’m just thrilled to see her. She’s so strong, so beautifully resilient. She has been with June since the beginning of Gilead, and I’m so glad she still gets to be around and be a part of this resistance. I love love love Alma. I hope she gets out, I hope she gets free. She deserves more than this life. They all do. 

[artificialqueens]

No one here (Katlaska) - matryoshka

 A/N: Hello, this is my first time writing a fic ever and it’s a self-indulgent Katlaska mess. I am nervous as hell, but also excited, and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. It also was not proofread because I wanted to post it near Alaska’s crowning anniversary, since it sort of set on that time. So here. This is just a flurry of 20k+ of Katlaska fluff, angst, and awkward smut. 

This fic is a bit like my baby, and it is originally inspired by a song entitled, “No one here” by Moon88. If you want, you could listen to it, while reading the parts nearing the end.

It also jumps in time a lot, so I put these (//) as markers and I’ve italicized the ones where they were just recalling or flashbacks.

I apologize in advance if it’s all over the place, but it is my first time, and I’m rambling. Anyways, hope you enjoy! (((((also, i don’t have a tumblr account yet, but i’ve decided to go by the name matryoshka, hello))))

Alaska just finished one of her gigs in the U.K., and is currently riding her uber to her hotel. She is exhausted; the high of performing and bleeding theatrically onstage, which she very much loves, is already wearing off. She changed into Justin’s clothes, took off her wig and nails, since she will head back to the hotel alone, but opted to keep Alaska’s face on, too tired and impatient to head home. Home. A laughing Brian, all teeth and air and wailing and the smell of cigarettes, flashes in her head. But she halts that thought since she doesn’t get home for a week at least, or she might not get back home ever again.

 She feels exhausted, she can feel Alaska slipping away despite not completely dedragging yet. She feels Alaska dozing off, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts, thoughts of a very specific Russian transvestite hooker. She blames it on the silence of the ride, where his and her thoughts run wildly, not needing to filter them since he is alone. He wished Alaska had drunk, but he knows the rules, he put them up himself. But he just wished for tonight, he could be drunk. Justin rarely gets lonely, but these past few days have been heavy. It is a very rare occurrence, he has been used to traveling and touring, but there were days that he feels homesick. Fuck him for being a Pisces, needing constant companionship.

He doesn’t think of her coffee date with Aaron last week because he will think of the nearing wedding ceremony of Aaron and Chad, which will lead him to think of their dead cat, and then the T, and then that ex, and then those moments. He doesn’t want to think of them, so he thinks of a retired substitute math teacher, dying of lung cancer, that he might not ever see again, but he allows himself some happy thoughts. It’s kinda bittersweet. He thinks of how he got here.

It all started after he had been crowned as the All Stars 2 Winner which is accompanied by the title of the Queen of Snakes. He felt like everything was an epic rollercoaster, he had already peaked just to be continuously dropped downwards and downwards.  He felt very bad and undeserving of love and everything, and for a while, he thought he deserved that. But those were also the times where he is most thankful for his family, friends, and her fans, and surprisingly for Katya. They all defended her and supported him when some of her “fans” turned on her and went with the bullying of other fans, but again he thought he deserved that. Justin was hurt, and so was Alaska.

He apologized to Alaska, for hurting her and staining her reputation. But the Glamtron princess isn’t weak like Justin. She stood up, owned the title, made it her brand, and held her head up high. Sometimes Justin was thankful for Alaska, but at the same time, he wished that sometimes Alaska would hurt too, share his pain, so that Justin doesn’t have to carry it all by himself. Alaska would take all the praise, the glory, and she was like Justin’s child, so he would protect her, keep her from harm, he takes all the pain, so he set all his rules. But no matter what he does, however long the list of rules is, he can never be as perfect as Alaska, and he thinks that’s good. He doesn’t need it, but Alaska does.

It felt like a blessing in disguise. The flurry of all of his mishaps and hate had carried him, and he was lost in it, until Katya showed up, pulled him right into the eye of the storm, and it was peaceful. It felt right at that time, the storm was also about him not just her, he needs to be in the eye with Alaska, so that Alaska and him could be both at peace; he learned to be fair to himself. Justin did have a tendency to put people on a pedestal, and he needs to start breaking the habit. Katya said he could do it, and Brian helped him along the way. Even though they used to be rivals and weren’t very close, somehow Justin believed him, and he was glad he did.

//

“Care for a fucking?” Katya suddenly approached her as she entered Logo’s building, Justin thought maybe Katya just finished shooting an episode of UNHhhh, she was wearing her signature short frizzy blonde hair, a red, black, and white dress, her seemingly unending supply of eyeball jewelry, and her tiny hands; she’s at her prime, he notices.

Justin just laughs at the question, “What?”

“Well, the last meeting we had, it was stated as a fact in the PSA that your boyfriend was a total asshole. Thought I’d help.” Katya just shrugs.

“Ex-boyfriend, by the way, but no thanks, gallant friend, not today, I’ll call you when I can if the offer still stands,” Justin just entertains Katya’s weirdness, he thinks he’ll never get used to her, which is a nice and amusing thing.

“Alright, you can contact me through my dead dad by the beach, join me for my smoke break?”

Justin looks at Katya, quizzically, but just nods, and Katya smiles.

“Alright, Katy, what are you trying to do? Should I run now?” Justin said as Katya brought her at the parking lot, seemingly empty.

“No, I take my smoke breaks pretty seriously, just like how I take myself seriously, well” Katya says in a matter-of-factly character accent Justin had heard before but couldn’t quite name yet, as she lights a cigarette, tries to offer one to Justin, but Justin declined and opted to sit down as Katya crouched down, not trying to hide anything and letting her dress fall down.

“What a lady,” Justin comments.

“Augh! A lady? Woman, excuse me.” Katya corrects her, and Justin chuckles.

“Back to my point, where was I, Oh! Right, I am eccentric, but I do take myself seriously, and even though I seem like a very irresponsible person, I think I do know how to take care of myself, it’s just that I am kind of low maintenance, not really.” Katya was now staring at Justin, looking conflicted, as if asking for help. But Justin couldn’t help her, not when Justin doesn’t quite get Katya’s point either.

“Alright, my point is, apples and oranges, I don’t do dating, but oh mama, I would like to fall in love, honey, you know,” he looks at Justin, but Justin is still lost, “okay, back to my point, apples and oranges, God, this made sense in my head, I swear. I don’t do dating, not yet, but you should take yourself seriously as well. I mean… Maybe, actually, try and take yourself less seriously… Like, it’s not your fault, your boyfriend’s an asshole—ex-boyfriend, good riddance by the way!”

“Alright, alright, Katya, calm down, what’s the moral here, honey?” Justin cuts her off because even if Justin is entertained, he was also confused and very intrigued. Katya inhales from her cig.

“Well, you know, how Catholics have this proverb–”

“Now, you’re bringing Jesus up? Was this some sort of propaganda, a recruitment, a conversion of some kind?” Justin cackles, and Katya laughs with him, drops the almost finished cigarette stick, stomps on it.

“No, yeah, I just mean, let me finish, will you?” She looks at Justin challengingly, and Justin makes an action of literally zipping his mouth, then he bit his hand, Katya laughs for a bit and lights another cigarette, Justin gets a little concerned for her, “we have a proverb, and it goes like, when they throw you stones, throw them some bread,” Justin releases his hand to laugh at the saying, but Katya glares at her while trying to hold her laughter as well.

“Bitch, you promised, okay, well right now, that saying is bullshit, and I would like you to throw a boulder at him ablazed with fire and blades and all sorts of STDs.” Katya demonstrates the whole thing, with the aid of her cigarette.

“You know I’m not an angry person, also I am not your BFF, I also would like to apologize for calling you cold before, but yeah, my point is, if you would not do that, I am asking for your permission to allow me because not only did he spoil my favorite show, he also hurt my favorite.” Justin was taken aback by her last words. Katya was taken aback as well by her own words. “I may not be an angry person, but I am a passionate and compassionate woman, yes ma’am.” Katya adds as a sort of explanation.

Justin takes Katya’s cigarette, stood up, inhales a smoke, and exhales them. He watches the smoke that left his mouth, watched them disappear in the atmosphere, and thought of the consequences that single smoke had to the world, to other people. It seemed very metaphorical to him, like a euphoria, a sign, and he’s thinking too much, and he has to remind himself to gravitate back in the moment. How come Katya is always in the moment; it frustrates him, he looks down at Katya, and see that the queen had been staring at her. Katya smiles. The moment seems very poetic in a way the dissipating smoke, the cigarette from her “rival”, said “rival” consoling him in her own way, and how thankful he actually is, and how Katya actually helped him. She helped him, without him even knowing he needed help.

He wants to say a lot to Katya, questions to ask because he is confused as fuck, but for now he decides, he’ll give his own meaning to this moment. He’ll have fun on his own half of this story, this moment, he’ll give it his own meaning, since he thinks, it was intended to help him. Things had been—awkward, in a sense, between the two of them, but he wants to laugh and argue with Katya, and really be best friends with her, but for now, he says one thing:

“Thanks, Ca-tie-yuh,” he chuckles, as he still looks at Katya, mouth wide open, rolling her eyes.

He lets the cigarette stick fall down, as it is about to die, stomps on it, says something about Bro’Laska shooting as a farewell. And he looks back, and sees Katya staring at the sky, killing herself with a newly lighted stick. And he finds that some of the unnoticed weight has been lifted in his chest, along with the smoke, he exhaled.

He could hear Katya saying “Science,” in his head, and he let that thought stay there.

He did phone Brian later, and watched some of Katya’s performances when he has the time. And that’s how they found themselves in Justin’s hotel for the first time, full and bloated from room service, debating whether to watch Game of Thrones or Golden Girls. They watched the Golden Girls, since Justin claimed to be too tired to start a new series, especially one as complicated and interesting as GoT, and Brian let him win for now, but he said Justin owes him a slumber party per se, which Justin had agreed to.

They didn’t talk about the smoke break they had a while ago again that night, and Justin was thankful and contented. They fell asleep curled together in Justin’s bed. If he dreamt of white teeth, blue eyes, and smoker laugh, he silently wishes he had his alarm off, and if the future scares him, he pushes his worries aside along with his hopes of a future, and he dances around his insecurities for a bit; he’s not a dancer, but who said he couldn’t try.

They woke up together the next day, had breakfast together the next morning, discussing religion, science, love, cats and dogs, and the weather.

Katya recommended that Justin watch her webseries in YouTube, “Take a vacation from yourself. Every Friday with Katya,” the ending credits read, and Justin treated it as if reading a proverbial book like the bible or a Buddhist book. In some weird way, it did help Justin, and he has started to understand Katya more.

//

The uber pulled to a stop, in front of Justin’s hotel. He collected his stuff, and tipped the uber driver too much probably. The uber driver smiled at him, and Justin would be down and try to flirt because he is cute, tan, sexy, nice teeth, blue eyes, pretty well built, seems interested, except he’s no Brian, and Justin can’t, so he offered a polite smile back, turned around, sighed, and went in the hotel.

Justin has a complex relationship with hotels, he loves that they are impermanent, and hates the fact that somehow he is always in them, he feels impermanent, even though that’s not what his traveling implies, he still feels it, and he thinks he can never escape that thought. For a long time, he had wanted a home, he needed a home, not because he is homeless, not physically nor financially nor literally, but emotionally, probably. He is a living testament to the fact that Los Angeles doesn’t find you a home, it finds you jobs. And the jobs give him the hotels. Nevertheless, he misses home. He thinks of Brian. But instead of calling him, he opens the shower and gets in.

//

From then on Brian made it his business to know who Justin dated, who Justin had slept with, who is trying to get on his pants. He feels more involved in Justin’s sex and love life than his own. Brian had see to it that if he detests any of Justin’s “suitors,” he would scare them off. It was always either they got scared, or they go after what’s in his pants too, and that’s how Brian decides who’s good for Justin. As many as possible, he wants to get rid of all the race chasers in Justin’s life. It was like an automatic switch saying ‘must protect at all costs’ had switched on in his head. He doesn’t question much of the things he has on his head nowadays. He has learned to just surrender and stop making sense of everything in his head, not everything has to have reason.

“Oh, that guy looks like a race chaser,” Katya whispers into Alaska’s ear at a club once, when she noticed the alien princess was eyeing a man who had been reciprocating the looks.

“Shut up, don’t judge a book by its cover, he’s hot.” Alaska smirks and bats her eyelashes at the guy, about to walk to their direction.

“Oh yeah, I’m not judging a book by its cover, already been inside him, so”

“Oh god, I hate you.” Alaska then says shifting her attention to Katya alone, grabbing her arm and walking away from the man. Katya enjoys the attention, plus a race chaser removed from the list.

It is not even like Brian was attempting to make Justin celibate nor tarnish his name. And it is definitely not because Brian was trying to start something with Justin. Well, he wasn’t trying to start something now, he used to, more than once, tried, but that’s a different thing altogether.

He was doing his best to be subtle, but also terrifying to the men. So far, Justin hadn’t noticed it or maybe he did, but opted to not say anything. Nevertheless, it was a surprise to Brian how easy doing this had been. Justin doesn’t need to be with a lot of man, he learns. Brian could count in his one hand the number of guys he had scared away. He didn’t believe it at first, but then things had made sense for him. Justin just got over a relationship, or maybe he has always been this selective. He is busy and Brian wasn’t making it easier for men to come near him as well. He patted himself at the back, and cursed himself right away for doing so.

Brian wondered how his protectiveness had all begun, maybe it was because Justin just has something on him that brings out the protective side of everyone. Justin was Michelle’s baby, Justin was Sharon’s baby, he still was. Brian felt something weird at that thought, but he decided to ignore it. He and Justin had finally started becoming friends, and yes, his defensive side could root from his seemingly unhealthy crush on boy’laska that had been going on for a long while now. He blames it on the fan inside him that never seemed to go away, well, it wasn’t hard to know why he won’t either.

Brian’s thoughts are messy, moving on, competing against him hadn’t helped either. Seeing the epic tantrum live hadn’t help.

In a weird twisted way, which seems to be a very normal thing for Brian, seeing all those sides to Alaska and Justin, he had become more endeared. Some people would stop admiring someone when they got too close to see what’s really in there; however, for Brian’s case, an epic tantrum or ten couldn’t make him turn his back, it made him even more interested and fixated, as if not being able to keep his eyes away. Brian doesn’t see any problem with it for now, so he lets it be. Besides, they were finally becoming friends. Brian denies the fact that he’ s thinking of this a step closer to becoming something with Justin, something more. For now, he is contented.

Justin, of course, notices. He noticed how Katya and Brian’s presence had become a more constant thing in his life, how Brian seems to be a god of timing and always asks him to accompany him whenever he has a date or a seemingly interested trade around him. However, he chooses Brian anyways, so it’s not like he blames Brian if he hasn’t gotten laid for almost three weeks now. Brian’s company can never be bad for him. For now, he lets it be, albeit being confused.

They started to become closer the following shows, some promo for the currently airing All Stars 2, and the Christmas Queens tour also started, Justin would join Brian during his smoke breaks, although he had abstained from smoking, he knows how important Brian’s smoke breaks are for him, so Justin just brings his own pack of chocolates, usually they are from fans, while Brian finishes his pack of cigarettes. They talk about their plans after the tour, who Justin slept with, seeing, which is a rare topic since Justin had been lacking sexual encounters, Brian feels a bit guilty at that so he moves on to talk about a fan encounter, then the title Queen of snakes, then  geography, literature, Buddhist philosophies, music, the government, basically everything except what’s developing between them, in Justin’s case at least, sometimes Katya dances, and there were also times when they just sit at the pavement, enjoying the weather and the silent company of each other.

“You seem to have gained weight during this tour, Lasky,” Sharon approaches her once while they were preparing for their last show of the Christmas Queens Tour.

Alaska turned her head fast to look at Sharon, “Should I be concerned?”

Sharon chuckles then quickly replies, “No, baby, I mean you still fit your clothes alright,”

Justin was suddenly worried that maybe his carelessness would hurt Alaska once more, he tried to look back on all the chocolates he has finished, he thought of how he is getting older and his metabolism must be aging as well, and so he mentally organized a new diet plan and try out new routines. Katya could see that the comment had bothered Alaska, she had become silent looking in the mirror, so she decided to speak and distract the taller queen.

“I think it’s a good thing. Yes, no need to be worried. I was pretty concerned before that you are malnourished, and thank gawd that my smoke breaks made you eat chocolates. I should probably get on with that, tryna be sober by the grace of god himself, y’know. And maybe Greg would love some curves, it’s whateva” She said the latter part in her Trish accent, and everybody laughed, although the mention of a Greg made Alaska feel uneasy.

“Well, I’ll be sure to tell Greg when he’s out on parole that he’d be better off with me.” Ginger said after the laughter had died down, and Katya laughed again.

“Anyone would be better than Trish and her dumpster,” Sharon interjected, which made Katya laugh harder if that was even physically possible. Alaska would want to say something but she was confused and got stuck on a Greg.

“You all are too mean—too mean—too mean to my cousin,” Katya wheezed in between laughs.

“So… who’s Greg from Parole?” Alaska drawled beside Katya after she had calmed down, but the question made the Russian hooker laugh the loudest.

Alaska was genuinely confused now, she feels stupid, Justin feels stupid, she looked at Katya, then to everybody else, some were laughing, some were looking at her in disbelief as if saying gurl are you for serious. Well, Alaska would just want someone to answer her question.

“Wait, Lasky, baby, you really don’t know?” Sharon asked and Katya stopped laughing, and looked at Alaska. She frowned, the attention kind of made her a bit more self conscious.

“Yeah, I am for serious.” Alaska half drawled, half chuckled looking at everyone, “Are you dating someone and I did not know? I am offended, Miss Ka-tee-yuh.” She crossed her arms and did her half-pout, half-showing-all-her-teeth.

“AH! I am the offended one, Miss Thunderfun. Clearly I have mentioned Greg in my Trish videos.” And alright, Alaska feels stupid and embarrassed now.

“Oh,”

“Yeah, oh.” Katya just smirked at her.

“I thought Greg was, y’know, an actual guy,” Alaska tried to explain.

“Yeah, as if any guy, even someone from parole, would want this whore.” Ginger said as everyone went back to doing their own thing. Katya looks like she was about ready to defend herself when Alaska spoke up.

“Well, my roommate and my friends all want Katya, I mean” at that Katya looks at her “Oh, thank you! Joanne, I forgive you.” Katya runs to her with her arms wide open, ready to hug.

“And by your roommate and your friends, you don’t happen to mean your dear friend, Justin, now, don’t you Alaska?” Ginger tried and Katya stopped just as she was about to hug Alaska to look at Ginger, Alaska was taken aback, so she just chuckled and replied jokingly, “Well, I mean a princess- a queen rather- should be generous and giving, so,” she looks Katya from head to toe as if assessing her and continues, “so I wouldn’t mind, I think,” she smirked as she drawled out the last words. “OH! Is that an actual invitation, Margaret” Katya said too enthusiastically, looking really interested, and suddenly Alaska was too aware of how close Katya was in her vicinity.

The scene garnered laughs and some all hail my queen and some that’s why you’re not my queen, mostly from Ginger, a thank you kiss in the cheek from Katya, and a concerned gaze from Sharon.

“Alright, lesbians, show starts in 10 minutes, hurry up. Everyone complete? Feeling okay?” Michelle asked them, breaking everyone’s laughs, “I am ready, eager, and willing!” Katya answered. And just like that, Alaska feels the mood in the room change, and they have been on lots of shows together, but it never ceases to amaze Justin, the exact moment where their alter egos completely take over, and it’s all fun and sweat and jokes and artistry. Almost like Hakuna Matata.

The show went great, the numbers weren’t flawless but they are great, and the audience was all in for it, and that was great. Katya and Alaska’s banter was amazing, and everyone could feel their chemistry working for the greater good. Everyone noticed and they were all sold.

They did their final group number, thanked the audience, and had a quick photoshoot with everyone. For some reason, Katya and Alaska were extra close and clingy to each other, but Alaska has no problem with it, but maybe some have.

After the show they all and went their own ways. Alaska dedragged, took off his outfit and hair, put on some plain black sweatshirt and a pair of black Zara jeans, but he kept her mug on. He decided that he has time to do an aftershow and looked around for people to join him. He tried for the upper floor, expecting to see a Russian hooker, but failed to see one.

“Hiiieee, I’m doing the after show, would you like to join me?” he asked the crowd upstairs. But only got a collection of “Oh, honey, sorry I’m tired.” “Maybe someone else is fitted at doing it with you?” “Sweetie, sorry, but I want to go sleep.” “I can’t appear there I’m too drunk,” “too high,”

“Oh, that’s alright. Thank you.” he replies politely and looks around for someone else, possibly more willing. He thinks that maybe it is because of the recent All Stars 2 drama that’s why some of the Ru girls wouldn’t want to appear at her After Show. But he shoves all those thoughts at the back of his mind, and continues to look for someone.

He spots Sharon beside a window, Sharon spots him as well, and he waves. He approached Sharon as she puts down a call.

“Who was that?” Justin asks.

“Chad, just asking how I am,” Sharon gives Justin a tight smile.

“Oh, that’s good to hear, he’s taking care of you.”

“Yeah, well I’m pretty low maintenance,”

“Yeah right, gurl, low maintenance, you mean you’re just like y’know, a handful,” Justin’s mockery earns a slap in the arm from Sharon, and they both laugh.

“So what is it?”

“Oh yeah, would you like to do an after show with me?”

“You didn’t do it with Katya?”

“Oh, well, I haven’t seen her yet.”

“I think she’s downstairs, I saw her before going up, looking for better reception.” Sharon tells him.

“You mean you don’t want to do it with me?”

“No, not really, just, I know you Lasky, you want to be with Katya.” Sharon tells Justin the things he’s been avoiding to admit, and it just makes Justin feels uneasy; how well Aaron can still read him, and usually he’ll be thankful, but sometimes, it just rubs off on him the wrong way, like rubbing salt on still open wounds, he wasn’t aware he still has, or he had just numbed himself and forced himself to believe he is okay. Sometimes, it’s just a slap on the face how he still hasn’t completely moved on, and he thinks he never will, and he convinces himself that it’s okay, but it’s just frustrating to him to see Aaron doesn’t have that problem.

“Yeah, okay, maybe I want to be with Katya, or maybe you just don’t want to be with me.” Justin accuses Sharon, and he feels stupid.

“Lasky, baby—” Sharon starts.

“No, don’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry, Justin.” And just like that, the way Aaron says his name, it has changed, Justin doesn’t fear it anymore, he breathes, he hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath. This change, he finds doesn’t hurt him like he expected it would. He had overreacted, and he tries to understand why.

“God, I’m sorry. That was stupid.” Justin apologizes, Sharon looks at him, concerned, “I just, I don’t know what happened.”

“So, Katya, huh? Maybe we should start talking with her.” Sharon offers.

“Well, okay. Shut up,” Justin tries his voice, and looks at Sharon, Sharon just hums, encouraging him to proceed.

“It happened after that ex, not you, but you know.”

“The ex who shall not be named,” Sharon nods, and Justin laughs a little at that.

“Well, we had a moment, she gave me like a euphoria—no more like, an enlightenment while all those shit had been happening. It just helped me, and I feel indebted to her, and I kind of admired her from then on.” Justin tries to explain. Now, that he is saying it, it had been months since he realized he was interested in Brian. Maybe that’s why he was also having less sex and less satisfying sex, in his side, at least. He sighs, and tried to go back to his point, “well, yeah that’s about it with her, and just recently, I think some of the queens have been avoiding me due to the drama that had transpired during All Stars. But she doesn’t, although, you know, I can already hear the people saying, Katya was robbed, but she doesn’t steer away from me, and he’s just too fucking nice, and attractive.” Justin groans, feeling stupid and hopeless, rambling to his ex and bff.

Sharon just laughs, “Lasky, baby, I’m sure that you don’t really need my help, but I am here to support you, and you know, if it helps, I am always on your side, alright,” Sharon kisses his forehead, at that. Justin feels comfort and nostalgia, but he doesn’t feel a leap in his heart, he is not in love with Aaron. He smiles at Aaron, saying thanks, but what he did not see was Katya looking, passing by them, just at that moment.

“And Justin, you are a stubborn, passionate, and a competitive twink, if you know you want something, I’m sure you would get it, or you know, I’m sure you don’t let opportunities pass you by. It’s just how it is. Also, you’re rich, you have a college degree, and you’re gorgeous, so get up and do that after show” Justin laughs at how stupid they both are, but he does stand up to leave, and look for a Russian hooker.

“Thank you, Aaron.” He smiles one last time before walking away.

He went to the floor below, and he did find Katya, but she seemed to be calling someone or filming. She was doing some stretching and some talking about her jellies and good fashion, Justin watched her from afar for a while before approaching her.

She was talking about some tips on learning other languages when Justin approached her.

“How many diseases do you have? Well, mental or physical, there’s too many to list.” Katya says, her eyes not leaving the screen. Justin enters the frame, and Katya introduces him as Ricardo, and they threw jokes for a little bit. Justin read the things written on the screen, and understood that Katya is doing some sort of live.

“I have to do an aftershow,” Justin says, “Do it,” Katya immediately says.

“None of the girls upstairs want to do it with me,”

“I’ll do it.”

Justin tongue pops at that, he gets his phone and they had fun, recording live the recording of an aftershow, with none other than, Katya Zamolodchikova, is sure to be a great experience.

They recorded their newly practiced dance routines, talked about Courtney’s wigs and other things Katya’s wearing that was borrowed, Katya did some dancing and tried to teach Justin how to do the splits, and they just had a lot of fun.

Katya proceeds to list things she claims to learn about Alaska that day, and Justin doesn’t get most of it, so he becomes open about his confusion, and Katya seems to be enjoying herself, so for now, Justin is contented.

“Listen, we are becoming friends, and that’s a good thing,” Katya leans in and so does Justin, Katya pull Justin into a half embrace, while she speaks and Justin pulls off funny, kissy faces to the camera.

“Yeah, it’s good for the goose, it’s good for the gander,” Justin adds,

“Yeah, and it’s also good for the general public.” And Justin agrees. Katya is indeed one of the most terribly kind person he’s ever met, and he feels grateful for meeting her.

He thinks for a while, trying to digest Katya’s words, and he laughs, “what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, I had too many milk and cookies,” Katya answers, Justin treasures the conversation, nonetheless. And they were back at their stupid jokes again.

Justin tried to compliment Katya as a dancer, but he wasn’t sure if he should mention All Stars yet, so he didn’t. Justin just enjoyed the show Katya is doing, and just spending time with her. This is something that Justin wishes he always had. Katya, spending time with her, hearing Katya’s smoker laugh, making Katya laugh the loudest; Fuck, he wants Brian. And again, fuck him for being a longing, clingy, addicted Pisces. Then he thinks, Brian is a Taurus, are Pisces and Taurus a good match.

Katya is now laughing, and her laugh pulls back Justin in the moment, Justin tries to understand her humor and tries to impress her by riding her shticks and jokes, he’s proud to say he gets most of it, but he still worries he might be wrong. But he pushes the fears aside and tries to have fun. Then they talked about Gia Gunn’s and Laganja’s music for a while until Justin’s phone battery charge is extremely low and they decided to end the recordings, they said their goodbye’s to both cameras.

“Okay, say goodnight Courtney,” Justin puts Katya in the frame once more, “Good Night,” Katya says in either a terrible or a practiced accent, Justin couldn’t decide yet.

“Bye,” they both say.

“Well, that went well,” Justin says after he pockets his phone.

“Yeah, yeah, that was fun.” Katya chuckles for a bit.

“So, um yeah, um,” Justin feels stupid once more, all his confidence from talking to Sharon suddenly overpowered by the fear of losing this, this easy atmosphere with Katya. He is torn between not wanting to risk losing this and wanting more with Katya. She doesn’t know what, but she was probably about to do something stupid, thankfully Katya spoke first.

“Hey, you still owe me a Game of Thrones Marathon,” Justin stares dumbstruck at Katya, “I mean, just saying, we only have a few shows left, so,” Katya offers.

“Absolutely,” Justin drawls in her Gia Gunn voice, “I thought you’d never ask,” Justin wasn’t sure if that was just him or Katya seemed a little bit nervous as well. She chuckled and accidentally dropped her phone in the process.

Justin hurriedly went down to pick it up, and before he was able to get up, Katya grabbed the side of his face, kissed his temple, grabbed her phone, and said “I’ll see you later, Ricardo,” Justin immediately looks up, but Katya was already walking away. Justin looked around, confused, but also red as fuck. He can feel his face burning, but he chuckles anyway because Katya is confusing both sexually and emotionally, and Justin? Justin is sold.

//

Justin had finished his shower; he looks at the wall clock.

2: 13 a.m.

 He was starving.

He contemplated either ordering room service, calling Chipotle, or looking for the nearest 7/11. 7/11 always remind him of Brian, but he chooses the first one because he was too beat.

He ordered a salad and some vegetarian pizza; he was too tired to pick properly. He had some time to waste while waiting, so he closed his eyes for a bit, feeling exhaustion creep on him. He allowed himself a nap, figuring, his hunger won’t let him sleep that long and deep.

//

“You know; I would make all the snake emojis stop if I could. Although I did try,” Brian says too seriously for Alaska’s liking backstage while wiping away the last traces of Katya’s mascara, after a promo gig for All Stars they did together.

Alaska just laughs and focused on removing a very persistent nail, “yeah, but unfortunately you do not have the hypnotizing powers of the queen of snakes,” Brian now stares at her for a good few seconds, and Alaska had to look up and stop tugging at the nail, she appreciated Brian’s baby blues.

“I am serious here, Alaska.”

A beat. “I figured that out ,mama, thank you, but I am fine,” she tried ending the conversation there and return to tugging and biting off her nails when necessary.

She thought Brian had dropped the topic, but then she was being pulled around to face Brian. “Yeah? So then why are you not making any effort to remove Alaska? You know we’ll be heading out to dinner in a few minutes.”

Alaska was surprised by what Brian was implying. “It’s just- these nails are hard to pull off.” She drawls to try and lighten the mood.

“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I help you wipe her away?” Brian says removing Alaska’s hair and setting it down at his now cleaned up desk.

“Um, yeah sure. Thanks.” Alaska hesitates for a second after pulling her final nail, but then Brian traps her by sitting on her lap.

“Well, I guess I’ll just enjoy this private show since you’re so eager, Mr. McCook.”

 Brian laughs at that, “Hard to break old habits, Mother” He adds in his Maureen voice and proceeded to wipe Alaska off, and let Justin breathe.

“I am sorry; you know that right?” Brian starts again, as he is now applying makeup remover to Alaska’s whole face.

 Alaska groans, the makeup remover is slightly warm on her face, she feels sticky, “I know, and it’s not even your fault–”

“It’s not your fault too,” Brian says, wiping away the now mixed, mashed, and messy make up colors on Justin’s face, hoping his doubts and insecurities would be wiped away along with it too.

“Except it is,” Justin contests which made Brian stop, and Justin opens his eyes now, which he immediately regrets, he could suddenly feel the sting in his eyes, he glances in the mirror beside them to avoid Brian’s blues, and he saw himself, Justin, free of the black and blue colors, uglier.

“You do not deserve any of that, Justin. I know it, and you should too” Justin was not prepared for the use of his own name, Brian grabs his face gently and forces Justin to look at him instead, everything suddenly felt too intimate, Justin wants to run and hide, but Alaska is no longer there.

Justin felt bare and ugly and he wants nothing but to either disappear or cry. He does the latter.

“Ahh, hall of famer, a crybaby. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Justin rambled repeatedly as he tried to cover his face and stop himself from crying. But Brian takes his arms away and pulls him in his chest, “Sshhh, I know, and it’s not even your fault,” Brian drawls in an attempt to mimic Alaska just moments ago, but his embrace got tighter, and he started showering Justin’s head with kisses. Justin clings back.

When they break apart, Justin clings on to one of Brian’s arms, for support and, well, for other reasons. He looks into Brian’s blues and somehow gets lost in them, he wishes he could send the gratitude across.

“Usually, I can deal with it. I’ve learned how to, but, I just—like, you suddenly brought all these emotions within me, and I just lost it.”

“Are they hot and bothered emotions? I mean, I’ve always been open and experimental, I could do with a snake once—”

“Shut up, I thought we were having a moment. Will you let me finish?” Justin mock glares at Brian, and Brian makes a zipping motion with his hands.

“I’ve learned to own up to my mistakes, grow from them; it’s a work in progress, you know. But these days have just been terrible. I was expecting backlash, but not to this extent.  I haven’t talked to anyone about it, except for you.” Brian slides his arm to reach Justin’s hand now.

“To be perfectly honest, I am disappointed at some of your fans, I am a real fan, and I guess my opinions matter more since I am a fan, a colleague, a rival, and I could probably say I know you, and you know, you’re still my favorite.” Brian said, and then after a few moments of silence, he cracks an awkward and a nervous smile towards Justin, trying to get a response from him.

Justin had to laugh at that because Brian looks awkward, the timing is awkward, their positions are awkward, but he gets what Brian was trying to do. Usually Justin doesn’t understand Brian and Katya, but this time, it was hard not to get it. He wiped off his tears, pulled away from the hug, allowed a few beats of slience then sighed, “God, that was exhausting, I don’t feel like going out with the other girls now,” Justin says the confident drawl back on now.

“Alright, I’ll go tell them, so where do you wanna go?” Brian asks surprising Justin; he could probably never get used to Brian.

“Uhh, to my hotel, I guess, why?” Justin thinks, “Alright, I’ll just go te–” Just as Brian was about to stand from being sat on Justin’s lap, Joshua enters, with slight traces of Ginger on his face; he had probably hurried to dedrag to go out with the other girls.

“What’s taking you bitches too long—Oh, sorry?” Brian laughs and successfully stands up, Justin had to assist him since he was flailing a lot.

 Justin just gives Joshua a small smile, nearing apologetic. “I’ll just change my clothes,” Justin excuses himself as Brian calms down.

Justin walked away while Joshua asked what just happened. He did not need to hear what Brian had to say, he allowed him to have fun and get creative with his share of the story.

“So what was that about?” Joshua asked as he watched Justin walk away, then returns his confused gaze at Brian.

 “Nothing, really, I just helped Justin dedrag since he was taking forever, and gave him a much deserved show in the process to let him know how much I appreciate him and worship him.” Brian said raising his leg to a near 180 degree to emphasize his point.

Joshua just shakes his head, “I’m not gonna push further, since you are a stubborn old woman capable of thought, even though you are not completely rational. But, just be careful, Bri, you have a tendency to put people on pedestals or just you know, you can’t take care of yourself, that’s why you hate children, remember? Violet. Chachki. And well, you might have a type, but Alaska’s—Justin’s kind of like Jason, don’t you think?”

Brian looks offended for a second, “Thank you, I love keeping myself on my toes, it’s how I stay fit,” Brian moans and does a pose and smooches before laughing hysterically, but Joshua just glares at him and so Brian continues, “But um Justin is not like Jason. He’s actually the one who has the tendency to put people on pedestals, y’know, I mean with Sharon and all that, but not just with her. And maybe that’s why we’d be good for each other.” Brian pulls off a weird smile, and Joshua just looks at him at that.

 “OH! by the way, we are no longer coming with,” he suddenly remembers, he was just thankful he had something to steer away from the topic.

“What?! All this wait for nothing?” Joshua grunts and gives Brian a disbelieving look, “Well, we are complex female women worth the wait, mawma” Brian shrugs and pulls off his tongue pop-drop combo.

Justin returns and joins the two of them, hair uncombed, wearing a Black Divine shirt, black jeans from Zara, Dickies shoes, and he is wearing his glasses. Brian thinks Justin looks miserable, exhausted, but very edible.

 He also realized he had been staring when Joshua cuts his train of thought off, “Alright, lesbians, we’re gonna go ahead, have a good fuck!” he said as he walks off.

“Of course, I’ll be sure to tell you first all the gruesome details later!” Brian shouts back just before Joshua disappears from the hallway.

Justin looks at him, confused, “I told him we won’t be going,” as if to answer Justin’s question.

“We? So you’re not coming with them?” Justin looked even more confused as he combed his hair by his fingers, his fingers are very long and lean and his hair looked smooth and soft, Brian wanted to put both things into his mouth. He pushed that thought aside, and backtracked on Justin’s question.

“Well, I can’t leave you now, I have taken you under my custody, dearest Joanne Elizabeth Thunderfun.” Justin laughs at that, albeit still confused.

“You don’t have to do this, Katya. I’m fine.”

“I want to, unless, do you not want me to?

“Alright, mother, where to?” Justin sighs, playing along with Brian.

 “I thought you said your hotel?”

“Please, I wouldn’t wanna bore you,”

“OH! I could never bored because I am always in my company, Margaret!”

“Well, alright, I’ll call an uber.”

They didn’t speak during the uber ride. They paid half of the uber ride, since Brian insists that dating shouldn’t make any special financial expectations, plus, since, they are both grown-up financial successes.

“So, is this finally a date, Mr. McCook? Pretty bold move, taking a lady into a hotel for the first one,” Justin teases, once they were inside the elevator.

“Oh, darling, it is anything you want it to be, it might be the last one, so we gotta make sure, we get the most out of our date, don’t we?” Brian winks at him, using his old man accent. They both laugh at that. “I mean I don’t know, you tell me what you want this to be,” Justin could feel the atmosphere turning into a frighteningly serious one, at that moment, but then Brian adds, “I’m just the hooker after all, your wish is my command.” As Brian traps Justin into the elevator, the doors open in their floor, and some passengers get in, they got out, laughing.

“God, I feel like I’m in high school or something,” Justin says after they have calmed down. Brian wheezes at that, but instead of waiting for him to calm down, Justin grabs Brian’s sweaty hands, and brings him to his room.

Justin didn’t waste any moment, he pinned Brian by the wall, grabbed both his arms above his head, and whispered into his ear, “Well then, Kitty Kat, darling, here’s what I want.” A pause. Justin makes sure to look straight into Brian’s eyes. “Own me, tell me what to do, you decide, I’m leaving everything up to you.” Justin could see it, the point when lust consumes Brian’s eyes, he’s sure he’s pretty much the same. Whatever was building up between them culminates here. Justin hopefully gets an answer to some of his questions, and he is erratic just at the thought.

Justin was about to kiss Brian, but then the older man speaks and Justin could feel his breath in his lips, “Watch Contact and chill?” Justin was shocked and contemplated whether Brian was joking or not. He halted completely and abruptly. He looked at Brian disbelievingly for a long moment.

This was the time when Justin takes Brian’s offer of a fucking that day in Logo. This was the time when Justin wanted Brian’s help in this aspect, to clear things and feelings up, an escape, probably a key to a future with Brian, and Brian offers to watch Contact with him.

Justin feels rejected. The way Brian rejected him was very Brian. Maybe that was his answer, but he studies Brian’s face again, and sees something there. Then, Justin decides, he can wait for Brian.

Then Justin remembers how he cried to Brian a while ago, and Justin got what he was trying to do. He trusts the smaller queen.

Brian did not want to take advantage of him, and risk their friendship. Brian was just as scared. And his action spoke volumes now.

Were they in a different situation, Brian would have jumped on Justin already. They wouldn’t be having this conversation. No words would have even been spoken. By now, Brian would probably be already eating him out; however, this was Alaska. It was Justin. This was the moment Brian had dreamed and drooled about. He remembers watching Alaska from afar, pre- drag race, in front of a screen, in the corners of a crowded club, in his wet dreams, just to wake up and masturbate on said dream. This was an opportunity to make his fantasies come true. The waist he has longed to embrace, the lips he has longed to kiss, the neck he had stared at for hours long, the legs he imagined to weigh on his shoulders, the man he had longed to worshipped; he was there, all right in front of him, like a prize dangling, waiting for him to grab; however, this was also Justin.

The mastermind behind the uncrackable and untouchable Alaska, whom he had admired, and still do. The man who made focusing on All Stars very difficult for him. The man who hid behind Alaska. The human boy who hid behind the alien princess. The broken boy who Brian saw fall apart a while ago. No matter how confident Alaska was, Justin could never erase the hurt boy inside him; it would always be there, and Brian witnessed him about an hour ago. Brian saw Justin, and he knew he cannot further break the already fragile boy.

Were it on a different context, if Justin had invited him, he wouldn’t even have to think about it. Justin would not even need to ask. However, right now, Brian wants to take care of him in a different way, and so he does that and admits that to Justin, minus the masturbation and the creepy stalker parts.

Brian released Justin’s grip on his arms and kissed Justin’s knuckles. “I’m sorry, what a bummer, right, but I swear, I don’t usually prefer Contact over sex, especially if the sex is from a gorgeous Glamazonian Princess, but this is– different.” Brian doesn’t say special because he doesn’t want to freak Justin out, but this was special, for him at least. “This movie just has a lot of meaning to me,” Brian chuckles at that, “and it has helped me before, and I don’t know, it might help you.” I want to help you, Brian looks at Justin’s eyes, still holding his hands on his, and kisses them again.

Justin trusts Brian.

“Alright,” Justin concedes, and Brian smiles at him. Justin was glad he agreed. “I did say lead the way, Dr. Arroway.” Brian slaps him at his joke while laughing uncontrollably.

Justin thinks he didn’t lose, he had a lot of questions answered tonight.

They had finished watching Contact, which for a sci-fi movie tugs more at the spiritual and emotional strings of the audience. Justin thinks Brian had cried, but who was he to judge, it was a good movie. Maybe Brian completed the experience, so Justin might be a bit biased, but it’s fine, he thinks.

“I would like to thank the Goddess, Rupaul, that someone, not just someone, but a favorite of mine, had finally finished Contact with me.” Brian smiled at him then after the end credits rolled.

Justin finds it funny, Brian with some tear stains, thanking Rupaul just because Justin watched Contact with him, so Justin laughs, “Don’t tell me no one has watched Contact with you before?” Justin challenges Brian, but Brian shakes his head, “Not even Trixie?”

“Especially not her.” Brian says, “OH! She probably hates me just for bringing it up, yep, that’s a fact.”

“Well, you do have a tendency to be weirdly persistent and addicted,” Justin drawls, and Brian slaps him in the arm then laughs.

“Oh! Hard to break old habits, sweetie, and you know that too. Besides, you should be consoling me, and not justifying her choices. Don’t tell me you don’t think it’s a good spiritual movie about finding God, romance, family, and science and dead fathers by the beach.” Brian says while rubbing the area in Justin’s arm he slapped.

“Well if it wasn’t, it’ll be an awful waste of time,” Justin smirks while giving it his best Palmer Joss accent.

Brian’s face lit up, “AMEN! See this is what I mean, there would be more inside jokes after watching Contact, people would get me more. Trixie and I would make more money, and we don’t have to treat my obsession to it like a pitiful disease, Barbara!”

“Clever girl,” Justin laughs loudly at his terrible Haiden impression, and Brian joins him.

“I need a smoke,” Brian says after he had calmed down. “Can I do it at your shower, I’d like to take a shower as well, mawma.”

“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll lay here and contemplate what I’ve watched for a while longer. I’m still expecting to have that life changing realization to dawn over me.” Justin replies.

“I’m expecting a five-paged essay on how the movie had impacted your life by the time I am out. Good luck, and don’t fuck it up!” Brian starts with his Ru impression.

“There’s a reason why Ru impersonation is Trixie’s thing, not yours,” Justin teases and Brian just slams his face with a pillow, and Justin just laughs. Once he removes the pillow on his face, Brian is already by the bathroom door, who seemed to be arranging something. Justin grabs his phone and snaps a photo of Brian, candid and distracted.

 Brian was pretty dark in the photo since the bathroom lights were very bright, but Justin loved the shot nevertheless. He decided to send it to the AAA girls group chat. When no one replied, Justin closed the chat, thinking that his friends were probably on a gig or are getting laid. He sighs.

He looks at the clock, 2:13 a.m.

It’s pretty late, but he has a day off tomorrow. Justin wasn’t sure about Brian’s schedule though. He feels physically exhausted, but his brain is very much alive. And it’s killing him. He tries to look back on how his day went. Lights, crowds, friends, gifts, fans, lights, Brian. Brian. Brian. Stupid Brian and his Contact.

Justin chuckles, but then he remembers what led them to watch Contact, and Justin had set rules. Rules that he knows are supposed to keep him and Alaska safe and sane. But for now, he decides to break one.

Justin opened his Instagram and twitter again, he viewed Katya’s congratulatory message, and cried. Katya included a picture of Alaska wearing, what seemed to be Trish’s wig. He stared at the picture for too long, debating whether to scroll down or not, as he was about to scroll down, Brian appears in one of his ‘your-makeup- is-terrible’ shirt and boxers and grabs his hands.

“Promise me not to do this to yourself anymore.” Brian sounded angry and strict. He slowly pries the phone away from Justin’s slender fingers, wipes away his tears, he forgot he shed, and hugs him. Brian smelled like cigarettes, green apples, mint and sandalwood. Justin doesn’t know what sandalwood smells like actually, but he thinks it fits Brian, he seems very stable and earthy and woody and dependable, in a calming way. Something like makes you feel at home, like maybe a wooden house, a cabin, with those cozy lightings, lots of ventilation, with a fire pit, and comfortable pillows, cushions, and carpets, and really mellow sepia-ish lights. Justin thinks he wants that as a home.

“You were quick.” Justin tries to change the topic.

“I had to get a new stick.” Brian knows what Justin is doing, but he won’t let him this time. Not around him, never, so he sits and continues to look Justin in the eye.

“I just—Thank you, Kat.” Justin sighs in the hug, and he wanted to cry again, but he stops. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, bitch. I’m not an angry person, but this makes me angry.” Brian pulls away from the hug and Justin misses his scent and presence already, “You should be celebrating, you should be happy… is my presence making it harder for you?” Brian suddenly realizes, and Justin immediately shakes his head, and grabs his hands.

“No, I’m glad you’re here, with me. I don’t know why I’m extra sensitive today,”

“Are you on your period?”

“I’ve taken my pills, mother!” Brian squeals at that, Justin can make Brian laugh for some reason. No matter what Justin or Alaska says, there is a 98% chance Brian would laugh at it. Luckily, Justin is kinda liking how Brian’s laugh sound despite it sounding alarmingly unhealthy.

“Thank you for putting up with me, a brat. Really, Brian Joseph McCook, thank you.” Justin assures Brian by drawing circles inside his palm and just caressing them, “thank you for providing me the best services, I’d be sure to call you again once I want a hooker.” Justin proceeds to kiss his palm, and Brian can’t help but laugh at that, and he hugs Justin and they eventually tumble down the bed.

They stayed there, just laying down, in each other’s embrace. Justin fell asleep first, too tired to stay awake, thinking he could never want anything more. He could never get tired of Brian, and he wishes Brian doesn’t get tired of him too.

Brian hates children, but for some fucked up reason, he wanted to protect and care for this brat. He doesn’t think about it too much, and decides it must be because of maternal instinct, since he is in fact an actual woman.

Justin woke up to a note saying Brian had to leave for a flight to Rio, and Justin smiled upon seeing that beside it is a glass of orange juice with another note attached to it saying, “an orange a day because it’s god’s (rupaul) favorite, and it’s the new black, mama. You can contact me by looking for the statics.” Justin had to laugh at Brian’s dorkiness.

He took a picture of the notes and the orange juice and sent it to Brian, “This’ll do as compensation for last night.”

He was notified that Willam and Shane had replied to his photo.

William: Who’s the trade girl

Caughtney: Isn’t that Katya

W: Really?

Justin replied, “Yeah, we were together last night.”

W: Cool, he’s good, real sport, very attentive, we shared a dick once

C: I’ve always known he is generous and giving to charities

W: So you’re saying Lasky’s a charity

A: We didn’t do anything

C: No, Will. What do you mean?

W: He denied you the dick?

C: But gave to Willam oh

W: Bitch shut up, you’re just jealous

A: No, yes, but

Justin contemplated on what to say. It’s not like Brian had rejected him. Brian had respected him and taken care of him, in a different way. He sits up, takes the notes, folds them and slips them into his phone case.

W: Girl is this a problem

C: I’ll be with him tonight, want me to beat him up?

W: Yeah bet you’d like that Court, beating up for you probably means fuck him for Alaska as a revenge

C: Lasky, you just need to ask

A: You whores! No and no.

A: It was kind of a rough night

W: How is that possible without the fucking

A: Really, girl

A: We didn’t do anything besides watch Contact and cuddle

Willam and Shane had stopped replying after that, and he got a reply from the devil herself.

Katy: I thought we had established last night as a successful soul searching event

Justin smiles at the message he received; he thinks of a reply as he sips on his orange juice. The juice had bits of pulps, he replies:

A: Was the orange juice freshly squeezed?

He got an instant reply.

K: Yes, I didn’t know what you’d like, princess, I apologize.

Justin thinks he could get used to Princess.

A: Well then, consider it a success.

A: btw what’s your permanent address?

K: Oh, the hotel room don’t seem enough for our next session?

A: yes I would like to have another and a more private session, please

Justin hopes that doesn’t scare Brian, and as he was typing his sorry, I’m kidding message, he got Brian’s address, with a see you there and a set of well selected emojis, as a reply.

K: Can I ask why you really asked for it

A: I thought you liked surprises, go home, and see for yourself.

Justin leaves it at that. He proceeds to google where is the nearest post office from his hotel.

//

Justin opens his eyes upon hearing a knock on his door. He let the staff enter and deliver his food, thankful that the person does not recognize him or if they did, opted not to gush on him. Most times, Justin would appreciate fans and let them take photos even if it meant pausing a personal conversation with his mom; however, there were days when Justin wasn’t Alaska, and wanted to be away from all that in the moment.

The staff asks him if he needs anything else, he says no and thanks them by tipping them.

Justin passes by the mini vault he brings with him which contains all of the mails and postcards Brian had sent him over the months. He still looks at them when he needs some encouragement and motivation. Katya’s web series episodes were motivational enough; however, he treasures these more personal ones. He sees the staff out and caught a glimpse of the hallway of the hotel. He wasn’t able to look at it a while ago, but the walls were covered in white and the whole floor was carpeted.

I want to kiss you in a hallway in Aspen.

He shuts the door, and sits down to eat.

As he was eating the pizza, he tries to remember when did the letters he receives in his home had become letters from home. He thinks of when did home became a pair of blue eyes surrounded by black eye shadow and a set of perfect pearly white teeth.

//

The snow outside looked so white and pristine, just like a certain Russian hooker’s teeth, which is in full display now, as he is gritting them through the cold or maybe laughing at a joke Alaska just made. Either way, Alaska wanted to give him warmth ASAP. The man is dying, he needs it more than her.

Everyone saw what happened in Aspen. It was well documented by their snaps and Instagram stories. They had a lot of fun. They had finished a whole set of activities, contests, performances, and shoots and an After Show in a cable ride together. Alaska and Katya had enjoyed each other’s company. They know they have great chemistry, and they have grown really really close. Everyone could see their chemistry and everyone was feeding off of it. Aspen was a well documented trip, except it’s really not, and no one knew what happened outside of those videos, not even Alaska nor Katya.

They are currently waiting at the hotel lobby, so Alaska decides to stick beside Katya, and flush their bodies as much as possible without it being too uncomfortable.

The sudden contact and warmth had surprised the smaller queen, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. She was grateful actually more than anything. This has been a dynamic that had developed within their interactions. Katya first attempted to offer help and take care of Alaska, and of course she reciprocated it.

Katya learned that in a weird and unexpected way, it was natural for Alaska to take care of others. Maybe it had been more evident before during Sharon and her reign as the royal couple, probably one of the factors as to why they broke up. Alaska may have a tendency to put people on a pedestal, before maybe, but that’s not really none of Katya’s business. Now, she just thinks of it as women supporting women, and that’s wonderful, involves no blurred thoughts and feelings, less complicated, easier. But Katya cannot really deny the attraction that she has been developing for the other queen. Of course, she just wanted to fuck her. Hell, they almost got to it before. She was a huge fan of Alaska, even before Katya entered drag race. She still is, despite her view and knowledge on the alien princess expanding, she still admires her. The intense admiration, almost like hero worship, going on before may have been replaced with an actual good, healthy, and solid friendship.

Alaska had grown prettier and prettier every year, more refined. Katya could really see the growth of the queen. Before, she might say she would be jealous of the queen, but now, she had seen what Alaska had gone through, how mush shit Justin had to put up with. She now has access to the growth of the queen underneath the surface, the evolution of Justin. In some way, Justin had inspired him.

Alaska is, indeed, very pretty, and Justin was actually already pretty as well. And Katya wanted to taste him and eat him alive, make him scream. All Stars really gave her a taste of power, and she especially loved the power she had over Alaska, watching her crumble. To see the queen, you have admired and worshipped for so long break and confirm that they are actually human, and just maybe you had a chance with them did things to Katya. She thinks she needs to untuck now. The close proximity of Alaska with her and the cold is not really helping her case as well. She can’t wait to get into her room and masturbate at the thought of Alaska and/or Justin, she’s not really picky, become a whining moaning hot mess under her.

Alaska could see Katya become uneasy, maybe the contact is making her uncomfortable. She steps away to break contact, but then Katya grabs her arm, and actually pulls her closer and tighter at her side.

“I’m sorry. It’s cold, and I really want to untuck right now.” Katya whispers right next to her, and acting fidgety which proves her statement.

“Ooh, why don’t you come on here and fuck me in the ass sometime?” Alaska summons her Mae West back in a whisper, and she could see it still works.

“Is that an actual offer or are we looking at a potential case of the blue balls?”

“It won’t be potential if it’s already blue isn’t it?”

“Point taken,” Katya breaks the silence du to laughter at that.

“Ugh, there’s just no one here, mama.” Katya continues and now proceeds to lean her head on the taller queen’s arm. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Go ahead, darling. I know you, I’m prepared with your potentially creative and daredevil sex fantasies” Alaska drawls, trying to convince Katya she won’t judge by petting her head and playing with her hair.

“Okay, I was actually thinking of masturbating to thoughts of you, in the workroom, just crumbling down,” Katya says in one breath, Alaska almost did not catch it.

Alaska was at a much better place now, she can now confirm that because the sudden reference to her tantrum did not bother her in that way, although Katya’s mention of it had made her hot and bothered.

“Yeah? What would you be doing to me in your fantasy?” Alaska challenges in her Mae West voice.

Katya stares at her, “Oh, bitch—”

They had gone into their hotel room earlier than the others, and every fantasy Katya had enumerated a while ago, they fulfilled.

Brian has been a constant in his life, his presence had become a norm for Justin, a necessity even that it scares him sometimes. Brian’s touch was equally as familiar to him, however, this was foreign to him. How Brian sounds like near to completion, how his brows would furrow as he shuts his eyes in pleasure, how dominant he could be, but it was still Brian. He was still as attentive as ever and beautiful, covered in sweat, muscles flexing. Justin finds everything oddly exhilarating. He knows he has started to develop more complex feelings for the people’s princess, but he doesn’t want to admit to it completely yet, scared that he would lose this, lose him. Was he already losing him by having sex with him? Justin wanted to panic, but Brian was pulling out, Justin could feel his cock had rested on his entrance. And this was killing him, he missed the feeling of Brian inside him, he needs to be filled by him now, both in his thoughts and in his ass; he couldn’t help but whine.

“I can hear you thinking, you’re practically vibrating, pretty hard not to notice when I’m inside you,” the older queen says in a raspy voice, biting into his ear, and Justin is riled up even more. “Brian, please. I was just thinking about you,” he moans, trying to thrust his own hips to feel any friction, but Brian held his waist firmly in place, Justin was sure it could leave a mark.

“Stop thinking, I’m here, baby,” Brian kisses his temple, and tightens his grip on Justin’s waist to slam back in, followed by consistently earnest thrusts, Justin couldn’t help but not think and give in to the sensations.

Sex, of course, had always been exhilarating, but this was different, the knowledge that Brian was with him, in this moment, makes his heart beat a thousand times faster; he was sure it’s not because of the overflowing sensations he’s currently experiencing. It’s because of Brian. Brian kisses him, and he worries he might actually die because of sex. Sure, he might find it funny, were it another time, but he could feel so many underlying conversations they are having by their current actions. He hopes that it is not only true in his side, and fuck, he is actually in love.

Now, they lie in their bed, cuddling, satisfied, and exhausted. They didn’t talk, too exhausted to even be able to stay awake to clean up.

Their limbs had tangled all together, Justin’s long ones mainly embracing Brian. Their faces still have traces of make up. Getting out of their clothes was the priority last night, completely getting out of drag, not really.

They don’t talk about it after. It was just some good casual sex, Brian tells himself, and he believes it’s the same for Justin. So, Brian did not feel the need to wake him up when he needed to leave earlier. He didn’t think about it, didn’t have to feel guilty or anything, but then it was his good friend, Justin, who is probably still hung up on some aftermath of All Stars.

They’re close, they’ve grown really close, so Brian knows that this means nothing more than being good judies to each other. It may even be just a one-time thing, just the culmination of the tension brewing between them before because of all the environmental stressors and stimuli. And as a man as a woman, when exposed to stimuli, you act accordingly, especially when it was sexual stimuli. Brian proceeds to pack quietly and leaves for his next gig.

They didn’t talk, so when Justin wakes up with a cold bed and the absence of a certain Russian hooker, he tries to not think too much about it. Brian has always believed in free love, and this was just another exhibit. No need to actually get hurt or overreact. He needs to just be chill, and proceed with his day.

//

Justin has finished his meal, and is already feeling the chill in his hotel room. He decided to get under the sheets and go through social media.

He sees a video of Katya tagged with a trixya tag. He clicks on it. The video is of Katya stating that he would just prefer if Trixie Mattel were her boyfriend. Sure, it was to keep the fans happy and Trixie and her were good friends, Sharon and Alaska were that close too. It was all done in good nature, nothing to hurt Justin, plus, it’s kind of marketing. It would have been fine were it any other day, he would be able to laugh at it, and move on; however, three days ago happened. Justin had fucked up, and he is actually potentially looking of Trixie and Katya getting together.

//

A few weeks after Aspen, Justin received a video call from Courtney; Justin decided to answer as he was still waiting for Adore. They will be talking about a show that Adore had mentioned to him. He sat at a comfortable chair and placed his laptop on a table. He hit accept, and the screen loaded for a bit until Courtney appeared.

“Hiiieee” Courtney greets him.

“G’day mate.” Justin replies.

 After knowing Justin’s tiny-huge-crush-on-a-Russian-whore-situation, the remaining 2/3 of the AAA girls decided to hop in and “help” him.

They decided to have a nice little chat, while, obviously, waiting for a certain Russian whore. Courtney was chilling at a backstage of some bar after, Justin assumed. While Courtney was talking about the latest straight guy she’d fucked or who had fucked her, the said Russian whore appeared. Justin was about ready to jump for joy until he saw that Katya was not alone for the night. Just as soon as his heart had flown, as soon as it had also fell. Courtney gave him a sorry look, but proceeded on interviewing Katya and the guy out of formality and for some insight as well. While Courtney was doing so, Justin studied the guy, now, Justin was rarely insecure when it comes to his physical appearance. He is even more confident when he’s Alaska; however, he can’t fight back the desire to be shorter, more tan, and muscular at the moment. He sighs on the screen, and that must have gotten Katya’s attention because she went nearer the camera and saw Justin. Katya bid a peck goodbye to her lover, and brought back her attention to Courtney and Justin.

“Hi.” Katya starts.

“Hi.” Justin answers, “so how was he?” he can’t help but ask.

“Oh, thank god you didn’t ask for the name, I forgot to ask, but I’d probably call him Roberto, cousin of Ricardo.” Katya grinned at him in the screen, and Justin could swear Katya’s teeth are always bright and perfect even in 480p. Katya proceeds to talk about Roberto’s performance, and Justin left that to Courtney, his mind now wandering somewhere else, leaving the juicy details as a background noise. He processes what Katya had said, and he hates how much just knowing that Katya didn’t bother to ask for his name made him feel lighter and at ease.

Justin thinks of his place, how Brian sees him. They weren’t exclusive. No, it was just one night. All they ever did was hung out a lot and every time they get a chance, send each other stupid mail, and Justin have Brian take care of him. Justin had jumped to conclusions, of course. His brain always getting ahead of him. Justin feels stupid. Katya wouldn’t be celibate for him. Katya doesn’t even do relationships. He was the only one who avoided sex and contact from other men, even in music videos. He asks himself why did he do that, and suddenly he felt déjà vu. He remembers something like this has happened before. Somehow, the memory still involved Katya. Justin just sighs. He remembers he was talking to Katya and Courtney when it got quiet. Katya had finished telling a chapter of her psychosexual melodrama, and noticed Justin wasn’t listening. Both of them were just looking at him now.

“Sorry, what was it?” Justin apologized.

“OH! Do you want me to start from the beginning? What parts did you miss?” Katya asked, very eager to share her encounter. Justin’s face fell, was the guy really that good or does Katya enjoy tormenting Justin. Katya saw how Justin’s face fell, but before she was able to ask about it, Courtney already speaks her disgust for the retelling in a dramatic way, and Justin was laughing again. Katya was glad that Justin was laughing.

“So what are you up to, Miss Thunderfun?” Katya asks.

“Nothing much–” “Actually, he’s at a hotel preparing to bang someone, or be banged by someone” Justin was cut off by Courtney.

Justin glares at Courtney for a while. Katya’s interest was piqued at that. He had stopped policing Justin’s sexual life by now, but she’s still curious. “Oh, really? With whom? Might be a special one since it seems it’s been long since you got laid, since Aspen if I am not mistaken.” She had teased.

“And whose fault do you think that is?” Justin replies at a softer tone, but laughs anyway, so Katya just laughs with him.

They all heard Justin’s door open, then close, signaling Adore’s arrival, but Courtney and Katya don’t know that.

“Oh, he’s here.” Justin says.

“And, this is it ladies and ladyboys, the moment we have been waiting for, Justin’s next fuck is…” Courtney screams from the screen, and Justin is sure Adore heard it, since he stopped hearing footsteps. A beat. “Me!” Adore jumps and poses from the hallway into everyone’s view. Justin was expecting to see Adore, but Danny probably didn’t have any gig, or didn’t have time to put even make-up on due to a hangover from some party. Justin just chuckles and shakes his head as he hears whistles and laughs from the screen.

Danny walks up to him in a seductive manner, locking eyes with Justin. Justin decided to get into his gig, and focused on Danny, he turned his chair, back facing the screen, eyes never leaving Danny’s. Danny finally stopped in front of him. He seemed to be enjoying giving everyone a show. He cupped Justin’s face while sliding into his lap.

Katya was untucked and he could feel his member grow interested. The fact that Justin wasn’t facing them made it difficult for him, since his imagination went rampant, especially since he had already had a taste of Justin. He remembers Justin’s face as he came, the sounds he made, how soft his lips were on his, and oh how soft they could feel on his cock. Fuck. He opened his eyes, not remembering when he had closed it, when Danny spoke on the screen again.

“You didn’t tell me you were inviting me for a fuck, Lasky. I would’ve exerted more effort.” Danny said, voice loud enough to make sure the ones on the screen heard it too.

“Bitch, I’ve never seen you exert effort before.” Justin replies mockingly, wrapping his hands on the mermaid’s waist. Danny laughed at that hugging Justin for support. “You, bitch.”  When Danny stood up from Justin’s lap, Katya looked confused, while Courtney was laughing.

“Hey guys. Katya, Courtney, what’s up?” Danny said, leaning into the screen.

“Hey Dan,” Courtney greets.

“Wait, so you two weren’t gonna fuck?” Katya says, as a form of greeting perhaps.

“Do you want them to?” Courtney asks Katya, completely amused.

“Well, I mean they could while we do too.”

Danny laughs at Katya’s reply and laughs harder when he sees Courtney’s face, and Justin moves closer to the screen as well leaning on Danny’s shoulder. “Ha! I wish we could fuck, but no, silly, we’re just here to conceptualize.” Danny huffs, looking at Justin then back to the screen, “this guy is being celibate for some reason, but it’s cute. See, we’ve been spending a few days together recently, and he rejects all the dick, long lines of them, avoids touching anyone at least. I don’t think I can break the spell, I tried, and as you’ve seen, he just read me in exchange.”

“I am not being celibate,” Justin lifts his head from where it was rested on Danny’s shoulders, trying to think of a way to defend himself. It’s just that after Aspen, Justin never really felt enticed, unless it was a pair of baby blue eyes, a set of pearly white perfect teeth, flexible joints, a bony dwarf, and someone not there. “I’ve just been busy. Unlike you, I don’t have a Bianca, so I have a lot of things on my brain.”

“Yeah, right, sweetie. I’ll pretend you didn’t just go season-3-sugar-daddy on me. But at this rate, your pussy’s gonna dry up. And the prince charming you’re reserving it for won’t like it anymore. I don’t even think the prince charming is even worthy, I mean it’s been so long. He should notice by now,” Danny says obliviously.

“The prince charming is worthy, mind you.” Justin counters. He looks at Katya then, they lock eyes, and he panics. He turns to divert his look at Courtney, and she has the look of pity in his eyes. Justin feels stupid. Danny doesn’t know, Katya doesn’t know, Brian doesn’t know, Justin repeats to himself like a mantra.

“Well, alright, how would I know, you never introduced me to him.” Danny replies and Justin breathes at that.

Katya was more interested now, apparently Justin wasn’t looking for a fuck because he has found a prince. This was news to her. A prince he has never mentioned to Danny nor to her.

The idea did something to Katya’s chest, not her breasts, but the area where her lungs and heart are caged.

Brian was all about sharing love, giving sex, but the thought of Justin going steady with someone, even finding a good fuck had left a bad taste in his mouth. Then, everything clicks in his head. Why just now. Sure, he has never been good with science nor math, but that’s not the point. He is faced with a much bigger elephant in his head. It’s like a tsunami had hit him and memories of mails, jet-lagged phone calls, aspen, of a certain alien flooded his brain.

Barbara is in love, has been, for a while now. Fuck, he mentally curses. Sometimes, Brian is too in the moment, he’s so oblivious. He could already hear Brenda laughing at him for discovering the truth he had worked so hard to avoid like, maybe Katy Perry.

“Aww, Little Lasky’s in love.” Courtney comments beside Katya, and that pulls her back to the crashing reality: Brian is in love with Justin, and Justin is in love too, with a prince charming possibly not Brian because a) nothing is princely about him, and b) he doesn’t know, maybe if Justin was into him, he’d know it by now.

Brenda was suddenly noisy; Brian wants to breathe, and Katya doesn’t know what to do. He suddenly wanted a smoke, but then he remembered his smoke breaks with Justin. He curses himself. He wanted to get to his hotel, but he was so used to having Justin with him in hotels now. He doesn’t know what to do, he feels himself cracking, breaking, so he does what he can do for now.

Katya stood up, flashed a smile, and excused herself.

“I think I’m calling it a day. The trade was a handful, demanding, whiny, but worth it.” He tries for laughs, and it worked, except for Justin. He looked at Justin, mistake one. He didn’t seem amused; he seemed worried, assumptions, mistake two.

“Now, are you sure you’re talking about the trade or Lasky here?” Danny adds to the joke, embracing said person in a half-hug. Katya seemed to consider the question for a moment; she was taken aback by the appropriateness of the question, mistake three. He wanted to hug Justin too, to be there with him, right now, yearning, mistake four.

“No, I’m pretty sure Alaska’s not like that. I remember her as attentive, receptive, warm, gorgeous, and worth more than it.” Katya can’t help the reply, it came off as aggressive and pissed, and surely, everyone just stared at her; irrational and awkward jealousy, mistake five.

“Hey, I’m sure you’re beat, I mean tired, not your mug, but are you sure you’re alright?” Justin was the first one to break the awkward silence, attempting for a joke, Katya just stared at him. She was glad the silence was over, but she still has to answer Justin. I’m not okay, please come to my hotel tonight and hold me. I love you. I’m sorry. She wanted to say all that, instead she smiles, “Yeah, old men just have to rest their crumbling scarce bones, you know. Plus, same, I mean I’m also kind of struggling with the fact that I’m in love. So, see you.” She used an accent, a cover up. Justin knows that. Justin understood that whatever it was, Brian is trying to hide it from everyone. Justin was so fixated on how Brian used an accent that he almost missed the part when Brian said he was struggling and in love.

With that, Katya grabs her stuff and walks away. Courtney bids them goodbye as well, but promises to talk to Justin later, especially about Aspen.

“Um so I see I’ve offended prince charming?” Danny asks after Justin had closed his laptop. Justin gives him a small smile.

“He’d come around. He’s not mad at you.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not, sweetie. I’m actually sorry I haven’t told you.”

“No, you don’t owe me anything. Besides, I kind of get why you would like to keep your feeling private or a secret. Look at where it got me with Roy. The fans were happy and it made them interested, so that was a plus, but I don’t have him.” Danny looks down on the ground, and he looked so small. Justin had to hug him; he was aware that Danny indeed had a crush on Roy, but Roy says that he’s too young, so they decided to stay as best friends. In a way, Justin understands Danny, he’s kind of been there with Sharon, having to transform romantic, sexual, passionate love into a more tamed and family-friendly one.

“Sure, you have him. You see, when we created Adore DeLaska and we got such a positive response from fans, they began shipping us; I mean he actually warned me not to fall in love with you and hurt you or else he will beat me up. I thought he was joking, but then he sent me a selfie of him, wigless but with Bianca’s face on, in front of my apartment, and girl, I was frightened. He deals with everything in the form of a joke, but not you.” Danny breaks the hug at that, and offers a genuine smile at Justin. Justin takes it.

“You and Katya are good friends now too, but I’m not saying you should settle with that; I also don’t intend to give you advice because don’t take advices from me—Fuck, I’m all over the place. Just—I hope I didn’t ruin your chances.” It was Justin’s turn to give a small smile, but he takes Danny’s hands in his.

“You didn’t ruin my chances, if I had none at the beginning.”

It was Danny’s turn to console him, honestly when did this become a sappy and emotional therapy. “You, idiot, have you seen his reactions a while ago? Have you seen him look at you? The things he does when around you or when things concern you? I mean we, three, have only been in a single show together, but I know he cares, Justin. What do you think happened back there, why he walked out? He probably didn’t fancy talking about your prince charming.”

Danny has a point, but Justin just can’t let himself hope, he knows he’d get hurt; he’s already hurting, fuck it. “He has Trixie though, and—I—it’s just everything becomes messy to me when it involves him.”

“Oh, baby, if Trixie and Katya would be together, they should be married by now. Plus, which ghoul had said this, true love is pain,” Danny tightens their joined hands now.

Justin smiles.

They spent the rest of the time talking about other queens, their feelings, Aspen. In the end, they didn’t get any work done. They ordered food, set a new date, and decided to call it a day.

Right after Danny left, Justin phoned Brian.

“Hey.” Brian picked up.

“Hey yourself.”

“What’s up?”

“Do you want me to go there? Or are you with someone?” Justin asks Brian because he wants to be with him, to talk to him.

“You don’t even know where I am,”

“Are you walking? Your breathing’s uneven.”

“Maybe I’m having sex.” Brian sounded bitter, but Justin

“While on the phone? I didn’t take you as someone disrespectful, in my experience, at least. Plus, you’re old, you probably couldn’t let that up another time after that trade.”

Brian laughs at that, then silence. All Justin could hear was Brian’s breathing and street noise. He was walking.

“No, you are walking, and it’s just your cigarettes finally killing you.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda long overdue, Joanne.” Brian quips.

“I want to be with you. Where are you?”

“Uhh, I just came from Trixie’s; I’m now walking to my hotel.” Of course, on a rough day, Brian would go to Brian, Trixie.

“You’re in the city? Well, where is your hotel?” Justin asks, as he hears hotel doors opening, and the background became more quiet.

Justin’s phone suddenly buzzed. A text from Danny.

Adore: I just passed by Brian as I was about to leave the hotel. Did you two decide to meet up?

“Nevermind, I’m coming to you. Stay at the lobby.”

“No, wai—”

Justin said before Brian could even finish his reply. He ended the call, not waiting for a reply, stood up. He checked himself at the mirror for a brief moment, a black shirt and black jeans, he looked presentable, that was enough. He went out and hurried to the elevator, pressing the button multiple times. When the elevator door opened, he stopped rushing, and stood at the door, just staring on who’s inside. He saw Brian.

“Oh, hi. Fancy meeting you here.” Brian greets him; he looks genuinely surprised.

“Why didn’t you wait downstairs?”

“I thought I’d meet you halfway,”

“Bullshit. You didn’t even know where I was.”

“I’ve heard the statics, mother.”

“Brian.”

Justin looks at Brian. He looks like someone had died. He looks exhausted. Justin could ask him what happened, and Brian could answer along the lines of travel and work. But Justin just wants to embrace him, and just make all his problems go away. But then, Justin seemed to be Brian’s problem. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Technology is really amazing. We’ve been staring at each other for quite a long time now, and the elevator won’t close” Brian jokes, but Justin couldn’t find any humor in the situation. He steps inside the elevator quietly, and it shuts.

As soon as the door shut, Justin could feel the tension, Brian had stiffened. He probably didn’t expect Justin to get in.

“So where to?” Justin asks Brian.

“I should be the one asking you that. You were the one who hopped in.”

“Well I’ve got nowhere else to be. I’m with you now.”

Brian lets out a laugh, “that’s so cheesy, What!”

They just let the elevator take them wherever for the mean time.

Justin smiles, he loves making Brian laugh, but he knew he had to speak; they need to talk. “You’ve been crying.”

Brian suddenly stops laughing and just stares at Justin, then proceeds to concoct an obvious lie “No, Trixie and I just got high. Mark your calendar, it’s the first time she tried being high.”

“Whatever. My guess is you finally watched Contact?” Justin wasn’t having any of it. He is so used to Brian and his antics now. And that’s what makes this more difficult for him, Brian was being Brian, but Justin knows he’s hurt, and he can’t help.

“Something like that, I guess, but what we did was something more spiritually enriching than Contact”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I know right, like Contact was it for me, then add that with Trixie, another it for me. I mean what else could beat that…” Brian looks at him now. Justin doesn’t know what to say. Brian just said how Justin could never mean as much as Firkus means to Brian.

“Yeah, probably marrying Trixie and raising an army of baby Russian dolls eating up everyone,” Justin suggests, to which Brian laughs.

“You just combined in a sentence two of things that I don’t believe in: marriage and raising children,”

Of course, Brian would laugh and have a remark. This is them, their thing. Justin doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but he knows something’s different. Brian could try to avoid the topic and derail them just by laughing or by telling random speeches in different accents and characters, but Justin is impatient tonight, more than usual at least. He can’t put up to talk with another one of Brian’s character, he needs Brian.

Justin actually doesn’t know what he aims in talking with him, but he felt something was off during their video call, Danny had talked to him already, Brian was magically in his hotel. If that’s not the universe trying to tell him something, then he doesn’t know what is.

“Now come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“What?”

“Watching Contact with Trixie was it for me, you know what had a more profound effect? Not marrying Trixie and raising an army of Russian dolls, although thank you for the idea, I appreciate you adjusting your thinking to my tastes, or maybe I’ve always liked the way you think without you ever adjusting—”

“Brian,” Justin glares at him, cutting off his babbling.

“Point is, you’re wrong, and the correct answer is me and Trixie were talking about how much of an idiot I am, and how much I’ve grown to love you,” Justin wasn’t able to respond quickly, Brian had said that sentence in one quick breath that Justin almost didn’t catch anything. The elevator doors opened, thank you, Universe, Brian quickly gets out, and Justin was still dumbfounded, but he knew he had to move, so he did. He went after Brian as fast as he could. He spotted him speed walking into a room, and Justin sprinted towards him.

“Brian, wait! Why are you running away?”

“No. Go! All of my peaches are ruined!” Brian turns and sees him and walks faster, but Justin was faster, and he needs answers. He thanked his two long left legs for being good to him once. Brian was about to shut the door to his hotel room, but Justin caught it with his hands, then his foot.

“Brian, let me in. Let’s talk.”

“God, Justin, please don’t make it any more difficult for me. Let go.”

“What, stop closing the door, let me in, and you’ll have less difficulty.”

“That’s not what I meant, idiot. Just—let go! Let go! I don’t want to see you, nor be in the same room as you. Let me lick my wounds in peace alone. I don’t need you to console me nor pity me.” Brian chokes at the last part, and finally looks up at Justin. His blue eyes were glossy, and Justin can’t have that.

“I love you too.” He hears Sharon, in his head, saying that was the butchest thing you’ve done your whole life, and he lets her stay there. But not for a while because he had to focus on Brian. He couldn’t help but focus on Brian. How his tears finally fell, the sounds he made when he cries. Brian removed his weight on the door to wipe his tears away. But Justin takes his hands away and kisses his tears.

“God, I’m crying. I feel like a woman.”

“You are a woman.” Justin embraces him, and Brian hummed as he hugged back. They stayed like that for a while.

They may look like a crazy destructive pair to some visitors, and Justin saw a hotel security personnel eyeing them, so he decided to bring Brian in, and close the door.

They break the hug, and Justin wanted to say a lot of things, but his head feels afloat, and it doesn’t seem like the right time to talk.

“You didn’t let me reply to you back there at the elevator.”

“Well, seems like our recurring theme for today.”

“So, you’ve, uh, finally meet my prince charming.”

“I would say you have terrible taste and we could talk for the whole night, or I could just interrupt you right there, and say shut up and fucking kiss me.” With that, it was settled. They locked eyes for a while, then Justin pushes Brian on the wall just like last time, but this time he kisses him.

Brian tastes the same, just like last time. Peppermint and cigarettes. But somehow this kiss feels different. There was no longer any hesitations in the kiss, no more held back feelings, it was bold and bare.

The kiss was haste, sloppy, passionate, and messy. Justin’s head was a mess, but Brian seems to have that effect on him. So he forgets words, and lets his lips, his body move to relay his message.

 When they finally broke apart, Justin’s hair is now sticking up everywhere due to Brian’s touching and grabbing. Brian’s blues were now a shade darker and blown with lust.

“I want to taste you,” Justin says and proceeds to kneel down, unbuckling Brian’s belt in the process.

“Oh God. Justin, that’s hot.” Justin pulls Brian’s pants down and licked his dick through his briefs.

Justin pulls down Brian’s briefs to let out his half-hard cock and gives it a few strokes while licking the sensitive head before swallowing his cock whole. Brian saw his cock disappear and reappear in Justin’s mouth, feel his tongue accommodate and lick his now throbbing dick professionally, and he could swear he could cum so early from sensory overload.

Brian taps Justin’s shoulder to tell him, he’s about to come. Justin removes his cock from his mouth then, and Brian groans at the loss of contact, but pulls Justin up to kiss him.

It was Brian’s turn to show dominance. He grabs Justin by his collar towards the bed, pushes him and straddles him to remove his shirt. Justin does the same for him. And then, they were all hands and lips again.

Brian starts kissing Justin’s neck, his favorite collarbones, his chest, his abdomen, until he reaches his belt. He looks up at Justin, looking for approval. Justin just nods his head and bit his lips, which Brian took as a go signal.

Soon, Justin’s pants were on the floor, and Brian was asking Justin to lick his fingers.

“Lick, now, open your legs.” Justin does as he is told, and Brian positions himself in between Justin’s legs, then inserts a finger in Justin. Shortly after Brian is inserting his third finger and Justin is a moaning mess.

“Brian, I need you inside me now.” Justin pleas in between moans.

“So demanding, you’d get hurt.”

“I really need you, Brian… please,” Brian almost lost it that so he kisses Justin to shut him up, and stop riling him up any further.

Brian would’ve complied; however, he feels guilty that Justin’s last time was back in Aspen with him as well, so he takes his time.

“Do you have a condom?” Justin asks.

“I’m clean and tested, are you?”

“Are you sure?”

“What does that supposed to mean?”

“You are a whore, so I don’t know,”

“And you are a horse,”

“which makes you a sick horny psycho, stupid.”

Brian doesn’t know why, but he laughs, and Justin follows. Yes, they laugh during sex because this- whatever this is- doesn’t have to change anything between them. They could still have the easy air around them, the care, they can keep the jokes, and the sex is just a bonus. Most importantly, now they have each other. Brian muses at Justin.

“What are you smiling at me like that for?”

“Nothing, just, you’re beautiful, princess.” Brian takes Justin’s hands and kisses them. Justin smiles at him and lets the warmth and comfort- despite feeling sticky, painfully hard, and at an awkwardly angled position- of the moment burn in his memory.

“You know, I would appreciate all this more when I am not painfully hard and awkwardly open, honey” Justin says after a few moments, grabbing Brian down and kissing him. Brian smiles at the kiss, and Justin decides he loves it when Brian does that.

“I like your teeth.”

“Great way to motivate me,”

“Are we doing this or not,”

Brian laughs again, which is why he wasn’t surprised when he felt an extra painful sore at his stomach and a heavy weight on his left arm the following day. He opens his eyes, and suddenly the sore in his stomach was replaced with butterflies, butterflies that are welcomed because the sight before him is all he ever wanted and more. He smiles to himself. The sun is now up, and Justin’s usually pasty white skin is glowing gold and warm. He can’t help but kiss Justin’s shoulder, which makes the sleeping man stir.

“Good morning,” Brian greets as Justin opens his eyes then beams at him. Brian thinks of Bambi, with Justin’s eyes and his long limbs tangled with Brian’s on the sheets, and Brian finds it extremely adorable and fitting.

“I’m starving.” Justin breaks Brian’s trance, and Brian chuckles at that.

“Well, come on up, and get dressed, princess.”

“Ah! I’m a queen, and you’re the people’s princess,”

“I was thinking of disregarding your venomous breath and kissing you, but alright que—”

“Alright, I guess, I’ll allow you to call me and only me princess, only you though”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Now, kiss me, stupid,” Justin embraces Brian’s neck and pulls him closer until their lips met.

“You reek of cigarettes,” Justin smiles into the kiss, and Brian has to pull away to laugh, “You reek of my dick.” He, then, stands up, grabs a shirt, and throws one at Justin too.

“Let’s brush our teeth, and get some happy meal.”

“I’m down. You really need a brush.” Justin stands up, and pecks a laughing Brian in the cheek, as he passed by him on his way to the bathroom.

Brian follows suit and stands behind Justin, who was now gargling with some traces of toothpaste on his chin. He looks at Justin on the mirror, he wasn’t wearing anything besides his boxers, he has all this messy white toothpaste on his face, but still he doesn’t fail to hold Brian’s attention. He was wrapped around his long lean fingers, and the realization makes Brian shiver in both fear and excitement of a possible future with Justin. For now, Brian allows a future with Justin.

“Why’re you looking at me funny?” Justin eyes him through the mirror, smiling bashfully, pulling him back to reality. Brian catches a sight of himself in the mirror, and sees he has a stupid dopey smile plastered on his face. He had been looking at Justin like he hung the moon.  Anyone who would see it would undoubtedly know he was in love with the tall and talented queen in front of him. Now, he wants to make sure that Justin knows that he is beautiful and loved very much.

“You’re starting to scare me, Brian.” Justin chuckles, which was cut off immediately by what Brian had said, “Hey, be my boyfriend?”

Brian finally asks, he could feel his heart beating so hard, it might literally leave its cage and just fly out of the window.

Justin knows they had been dancing some weird homosexual mating dance, and it has been very long, and now Brian had finally asked him. It was not a grand courtship ending with an as equally grand declaration of love, but it was perfect. Justin knew the older man as a queen of timing, but he was delayed this time, but it’s fine. This was happening now, and Justin releases a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He could suddenly feel warm and his heart beating fast, and he could see worry etch into Brian’s beautiful face, and he was suddenly reminded he has to answer.

“Hmm, Bambi and one of Snow white’s dwarf, almost like a fairytale. Disney is shaking.” The answer had sunk into Brian painting a stupid smile on his face, then Justin turned around with an equally stupid smile, threw himself onto the smaller man then smashed their lips before Brian could even laugh or sigh out of relief and joy.

Justin feels so happy he could die; he wants to cry. He had been waiting for this for so long. All of his worries for a future, thrown out of the window for now. For now, he only thinks of how Brian has his hands on his waist, and how he holds him like he’s dear and he has no intention of letting go. The smaller man kisses him and means it, and Justin understands, so he tries to reciprocate and deliver everything he feels at the moment, hoping that Brian would get it too.

Brian is truly definitely genuinely happy. Right here. At this moment. This was everything he hadn’t known he wanted and more. He had been wanting him, yearning to be with him, years ago, even before he entered drag race. Brian never wanted to go through the hurdles of drag race, knowing the pressure the difficult challenges bring, but he wanted to be a part of something so much bigger. He wanted the family that goes along with it. And this, Justin’s weight on his arms, he lets himself think that they are perfect for each other, that everything, all his life was leading to this moment right here; gone were the days wherein he had to go fall in a long line, battle with a crowd just to see Alaska. He’s now with Alaska, and what’s better is that he’s with Justin. He thinks that he would do his very fucking best to not fucking fuck this up because this, this might be one of the best things that has happened to him. And thank God he is sober to enjoy everything.  Then he stops thinking because Justin is very eager, and Brian will definitely not not reciprocate and give and receive and reciprocate.

“You make me so fucking happy, I might kill you before you kill me.” Brian finally says as they break apart, breathless, eyes blown, both very red.

“Right. Balance is important in everything. You’re the psycho breadwinner, and I’m the masochistic trophy wife.”

“Now, let’s really brush our teeth and get ourselves some McDonald’s.”

It was a perfect picture. A happy and successful couple with their happy meals and their love for drag, art, comedy, and each other.

Justin wishes it could stay a picture, painted permanently, and hell knows, he would do whatever to try and make it so.

Trixie answered at the fourth ring, and Brian started fake sobbing.

“Brian? Hey, what’s wrong? Where are you?” Usually, Trixie would start with an insult, but Brian was sobbing on the other end.

“I just—it was a lot of stress and pressure, and I said it would just be one line. I—Trixie, I’m sorry.”

“Brian? No, you didn’t mean…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know, it was a dangerous train of thought last night. My head wasn’t clear, and I said I don’t fuck with addiction, but I just. You know I have tendencies, and I just can’t last night. After I went to your place, I just passed by it, and—” Brian intensifies his sobbing sounds.

Trixie was now panicking, he got up, put on some pants and was headed to the door, “Where are you?”

“I’m sorry I relapsed.”

“With what? Do you know?”

“Yes, it was—”

“Hiiieeee, Barbie.” Justin butted in the conversation

“—Alaska Thunderfuck,” Brian finished his last sentence, and Trixie almost dropped his phone. These bitches had him, he was already outside. He doesn’t know whether to be angry or relieved, so he shouts at the phone instead.

“You fucking, bitches! You utter fucking whores!” Trixie screams, but it is drowned by the laughing on the other line.

“We got you.” Brian says, still laughing.

“We got you good. Great acting, babe.” Trixie hears Justin say in his drawl.

Trixie hears a smooch, so he vocalizes his disgust.

“Ugh, Hesus, have mercy on me.”

He hears more laughter and then some apologies.

“So, I guess it all worked out in the end, huh Kat?”

“Yeah, uhh thanks, Brian.” Brian says on the phone, hoping the gratitude comes across.

“Alright, Alaska, thank you for prying Katya away from me. Now, you, cunts, owe me details and brunch, you made me walk outside at such an ungodly hour!”

“It’s literally almost noon now.”

“Exactly, fully booked, honey.” Brian laughs, they say their goodbyes. “Thank you, Trixie,” Justin adds, and Trixie hangs up.

Justin was grateful he has Trixie’s blessing, but then he wasn’t surprised to receive a text threatening to feed him to dogs if ever he hurts Brian. What surprised him was a follow-up message telling him to keep Brian or else he will act out. Justin knows both Brians had grown very close. There was also a time wherein Katya had been very open about his attraction for the barbie doll; however, they never really got together. Trixie could be joking, for all he knows, but he still found it threatening, but he was determined to take care of Brian; he can’t have it otherwise.

From then on, it had been a happy blur of a year of supportive friends, efforts to keep it private, the easy jokes and banter, meeting the parents, the family, greatest stage chemistry from Katya and Alaska that the fans love and swallow, mails, video calls at ungodly hours, quiet times in hotel rooms, digital hand jobs, loud nights in each other’s flats, sexting like teenagers, and a lot of rediscovering and relearning each other.

Many people thought Brian would be taking care of Justin, given the latter’s bratty behavior, but if Brian was to be honest, Justin had done a lot of adjustments for them. Brian never felt neglected nor rejected. And he just hopes he was able to do the same for Justin.

It had been amazing, really. Justin could not remember any bad thing. Yes, there were fights, but they would always be followed by amazing rough or gentle makeup sex. But now, here is Justin laying on his hotel room. About to cry because he had fucked up. It has been three days. Maybe Brian was giving him his space, or he decided he can’t deal with him anymore, or he is with Firkus, realizing how much he’s happier with him.

Justin hates every second of this. He had overreacted. He had hurt, and now he feels so alone. Seeing the video, he just saw also didn’t help, not at all. The worst part is that this proves how insecure Justin is actually in their relationship, that no matter what he does, he could never be the best, he could never be it for Brian. Brian had said so himself, and he had said it again, in that video.

However, he makes sure to keep Alaska out of it. He can’t let Alaska suffer and go back to square one. He can’t see himself going through all of that again with the idea of Brian, not being there, with his weird jokes and terrifying smoker laugh.

Three days ago, it had been one of their rare days off wherein they actually get to be together. They ate dinner, watched the latest episode of Game of Thrones; he listened to Brian review the episode, and they had a few discourse and cute arguments about the show, most of them just Justin teasing Brian, which was then followed by a cute make out session in their couch. It was the usual and they were contented.

It had been a few months since the moved in together. They have stopped sending letters to each other, since they are now living under the same roof, although they rarely feel it.

They were both exhausted, and were now sleeping, until Brian’s phone rang.

“Justin. Pleeeease, I promise to send you to the airport” Brian just grunts and murmurs, and Justin gets what he wants to do. He sits up and feels for Brian’s phone in the drawer beside their bed. He answers it, not bothering to look at the caller, and looks at Brian. Brian just mouths “I love you,” and shuts his eye.

“Hello?”

“Brian? Brian. It’s Brian. And I’m drunk, and I should know better, but he dumped me two weeks ago, right?” Justin was catapulted awake and alarmed at the sound of Trixie, definitely drunk, sobbing. Hard.

“Trixie? Where are you? This is–” Justin gets cut off by Trixie. She can’t probably hear him.

“Please come to me, I need you, Brian. God, why did I reject you? When you were so caring and now, I see how good you are with Alaska, and I might be ruining it for all of us, but why aren’t we together?” Justin’s heart sinks at this. At Trixie being dumped, at her getting wasted, and her wanting to have Brian.

“Alright, Trix, I need you to tell me where you are.”

“You know where to find me.”

“Oh, okay. Stay there. Brian will be there in a few. I’ll tell him.”

“Wait—hold on. Lasky? Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry.”

“No, sweetie. It’s alright. Stay wherever you are. I’ll have Brian pick you up.”

“No, Lasky. I’m— This is stupid. I’m drunk. I’m sorry.”

“I know, that’s why I believe you. Everything, a hundred percent, and you might not remember this, but it’s alright, honey. So calm down, breathe. Drop the bottle, okay? Stay there.” He drops the phone to wake Brian up.

“Brian, hey, Brian, wake up. Trixie is drunk, she was dumped, and she needs you to come to her.” Brian stirred, but sat upright upon hearing Trixie’s name.

“What? Where did she say she was? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“Alright, I get that you’re panicking, but I’ve talked to her a little bit, and she seemed to have clamed down and sober up. She says you know where to find her.”

“Oh, fuck. I gotta go.”

“Alright, take care.”

Justin watched Brian scurry out of their bedroom. He heard car engines running and moving away. This is alright. He decides to do what he can. He is known to be someone who keeps his word. He’ll stay as long as Brian wants him to, if he no longer needs him to, Justin will go. It has always been that way, and whatever makes Brian happy. He was never it after all. Now, Brian wants Brian and vice versa, so nothing’s stopping Brian from having what is it for him. Brian can be happy.

Justin says that, but what Trixie had said doesn’t get past his head. He had always worried that one day Brian would realize Justin is no longer worth keeping because of his feelings for the barbie, and now presented a good opportunity for both to act on their feelings and achieve happiness. Justin doesn’t want to be the one getting in the way of love and happiness. However, he still got hurt, and he’s thinking a lot, his confidence is shaking, and he feels like crying, but he doesn’t. He figures that packing would be the best idea since he needs to fly in just a few hours, and maybe he wouldn’t see that promise with Brian.

It had been three days ever since Justin flew without seeing Brian. Brian hadn’t contacted him, and he was getting worried. Is it actually over between them; Justin feels exhausted thinking about it. He decides he’ll sleep it off for tonight, and what happens happens. He has been here before; he has been through worse. But the thought of abstaining from Brian McCook, it’s scaring him, so fucking much, and Alaska hates being scared.

//

Brian had gone into Trixie’s. She said you know where to find me, and that would only mean one thing. Trixie was at her apartment’s balcony. She had always gone there when she was dumped and drunk, it would be locked, Brian knows the drill by now, but this time, Justin was the one who had answered the phone. He doesn’t know how that happened or how Trixie felt about that, so the only thing he could do now was get there as fast as he could.

He had hurried into the stairs into his apartment, but when he opened the door, the balcony sliding door was opened, and Trixie was sitting in the sofa, hands on her head. Brian shut the door gently, which made the doll look up.

“You look terrible,” Brian tried, Trixie was still in drag, minus the wig and the boots, and her makeup had run. The first time it happened, Brian was pretty shocked, but he’s used to how graphic things could get now.

“I am terrible; I look terrible, I feel terrible, I did something terrible.” This was how Brian would normally act around her, meaning Alaska had sent him without telling him anything, and it kills Trixie. She had said something she shouldn’t have, got drunk impulsively, but what she hates the most is, she could still feel how happy she is that Brian came.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Slow down. What happened?”

“You need to leave.” Trixie stood up, and tried ushering Brian to the door, but he was still too drunk to be able to stand up so she just stumbled and Brian had to hold her up.

“What do you mean? I just got here. Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed now, I know the drill, now spill.” Brian looked intently into Trixie’s eyes, holding her firmly. Trixie was drunk, she could take advantage of that fact, and just blame it on the alcohol’s effect.

Brian did not saw it coming, so he didn’t know how to react. His brain had blanked out, and he couldn’t really respond eagerly. He doesn’t want to, too worried and confused. Trixie had smashed their lips together, and Brian had his eyes open. The barbie seemed desperate and soon enough, tears were falling in her cheeks again, following the same visible trail of tear stains.

“You really have to tell me now because this wasn’t part of the drill.”

“You did not respond to the kiss,”

“Well, I’m sorry. You know that I am usually an enthusiastic kisser, I love kissing, but you just shocked me there. Plus, I don’t like the taste of alcohol.”

“You’re not gonna say, what the fuck, man?”

“What the fuck, man?” Brian just replied, still confused as ever. Was Trixie just sad and wanted to get laid? That usually did not involve Brian as a prospect fuck, even before he got together with Justin, Trixie never really initiated any kiss, so this was new.

“Would the kiss be different if I repeated it now?” With that, Brian is somehow getting a few strokes of the picture now.

“Trixie, you know I love you, I really do, but for some miracle, you know I am a married woman now, and my malnourished trophy wife is waiting for me at home. I don’t really want to fuck that up.” Trixie started crying again after that. Loud.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I fucked it up for you Bri.”

“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, honey. He knows that I went here. It’s fine. Justin made me go, actually. He’s also worried about you.”

“That’s the problem! Justin answered the call, but he still made you come here!”

“Trix, calm down. Breathe. Explain. Justin only told me to come here.”

“I was drunk, Bri. I could blame it all on that, but I was just so lonely, and I made a stupid phone call to you, and I told you on the phone how we should be together, and how I’m sorry now that I dumped you, and—”

“Hold on, I don’t remember any of that—”

“Because Justin was the one who answered the call!”

Brian doesn’t panic anymore, but this felt so close to it. He can’t panic now, Trixie still needs to get fixed up, and, and, and he almost forgot! Brian had promised Justin to see him off, and Justin will be away for God knows how long, and they won’t see each other for god knows how long because Brian would also be away, and he knows Justin. He knows his brains. Justin could take this as a sign of a potential break up, that Brian had chosen Trixie over him.

Sure, Brian had thought of a future with Trixie before, but all of those were thrown out the window when he decided to move in with the 49th state. And the kiss with Trixie confirmed it. Fuck, he wishes he could get back just in time, and clear this all up.

“Trix, did you mean any of what Justin heard?”

“I’m sorry, Bri.” A beat, Trixie was looking him in the eye, and this is breaking his heart, but what he found was more heartbreaking to him now, was how much Justin could also be anxious and hurting on his own. “I could move on. You’ve done it, obviously, but I just I don’t want to fuck this up for you.” Trixie looks down and grabs his hand. She has sobered up now, and the emotions seemed very raw in her face, and Brian wishes he could do something to make it go away, but Trixie has to fix that on her own, they both know that. And it would be best if Brian made himself scarce for a while, just a little while.

“You won’t fuck it up. We’ll be okay, we’re strong lesbian, biological, spiritual, female women, and we’ll make it work. Now, let’s get you cleaned up for rest.” He lifts the barbie doll’s chin to look him in the eye, offers a genuine smile which conveys all the fear, but also all the trust that he has in Trixie and in Justin and him. Brian decides that he could give Trixie a hug.

“Thanks, Bri. You really are the most horribly nice person I know, next to myself, of course,” Trixie whispers into him as they break apart, and they were able to laugh now. They still would later on because this hasn’t ruined anything. Their friendship had grown very strong for it to be severed by this incident, and somehow Trixie is content with that. He gets to keep Brian in his life, but this time she knows that he truly is happy.

Brian tried his best to help Trixie fix herself up, asked if Trixie still needs anything, then courtly excused himself out. He looked at the time.

 2:13 a.m.

Justin was probably gone now.

Brian thought of giving Justin his space for now, hoping that he could think about what happened, while Brian tries to figure it out too. It also doesn’t feel right to sort things out in between gigs and through a phone call. He would wait.

They would be seeing each other in three days, and Brian just prepares to surprise his boyfriend.

//

Justin had slept and was told they have the following few days off, so he stayed in his hotel room. He still hasn’t gotten any call from Brian, who had kept him sane, who had kept him collected, who had kept him at his best, who was very addicting, who had kept him sober. This train of thought is dangerous. Soon enough, he’s thinking of having a few drinks, for fun, to feel fancy, to forget, he doesn’t know. But his thoughts are almost filled with how easily accessible the liquors are. Fuck it, he’d have just one glass. And that one glass had turned into one bottle. With each glass he downed, he feels bolder, braver, more miserable, and he wants to stop, but he can’t. He tries to remember the amount of alcohol required for it to be poison in one’s body. He held to that number the whole time. He read their past letters, scrolled through their pictures. He was drunk. He knew that wouldn’t fix anything, in fact it would only exacerbate the problem. He knows that. He’s an adult, but for now he decided to act adult and do the adult way to fixing problems, alcohol.

After all, no one was here besides himself. No one was here just like when he left their apartment. Maybe Brian had actually decided to leave the relationship that they were in, and right now, there was no one here. Justin doesn’t blame anyone, there’s no one here besides himself. He would drown himself in alcohol, nostalgia, regret, and blames for now, in hopes that he would resurface and float back in the morning. He hopes for that, even though that is never the case.

However, that did not seem very wise now that he was notified that Katya would be going up to his room in a few. He looked at the place, suddenly feeling embarrassed and afraid. Brian would be here, he’ll see what Justin had done, and they would really break up. He went to the comfort room to look at himself in the mirror. Drunk, pathetic. He locked himself inside. Brian couldn’t see him now. He couldn’t see Brian like this. He might die if he hears the words he had been expecting Brian to say.

Brian had arrived in the hotel where they will be staying at in U.K. He had requested to share a room with Alaska, which the organizers gladly agreed upon, a saving is a saving. They gave him a key card to the room, and he went there.

Brian did not really know what to expect, but he was expecting Justin to be alright somehow. The sight before him does not scream alright though. Beer bottles had scattered on the floor, along with glasses, and he recognized some pictures and letters he had sent Justin throughout their relationship, but no sign of a Glamazonian princess.

“Lasky? Are you here?” Brian asked into the room, gently closing the door, and tiptoeing around the bottles. He looked at the bed, but it was empty. Justin’s phone was in it. Fuck, Brian wished he had called.

“Justin, I’m here. Where are you?” He tried again, he could feel his throat closing up. Brian did this to Justin. He looked around, and saw some light seeping through the bathroom door. He silently goes there and tries to turn on the knob, it is locked.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m here. Open up.”

“You can say it. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to look at me now, I don’t want you pitying me or seeing me cry. Not that I’d cry.”

Brian struggles to hold it in, but he doesn’t cry just yet.

“What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”

“I am not on the program.”

“I know, baby, but you’re drunk. You drink, I know, but you’re drunk this time. Let me help you.”

“Yes, I am drunk, now break up with me.”

A beat, he could hear his heart break at what Justin said. Brian was taken aback by the reply. How Justin sounded like he was so sure it would happen, it sounded like it was definitely not the first time it had crosses the younger queen’s mind, but Brian had never even considered it.

“I’ve prepared myself, Brian. I saw the videos, I know what Trixie wanted, I just want you to be happy.” Justin could see Brian’s shadow at the bottom of the door, he slids down now, too drunk and too exhausted to keep standing up. Brian had never replied, maybe he was rehearsing what he would say, to make it hurt less, to let Justin down easier.

Brian heard Justin slide down to the floor, so he followed him and rest his forehead on the door. The video was for promotion, to make the fans happy. Brian used to think of that, but it was no longer a fact; he had been vocal about it to the fans, to Trixie, and it was all in good nature, but he hasn’t considered how it would affect Justin now, even as a joke.

“I’m sorry, Justin. Please, let’s talk.”

Justin wants to do anything, but talk. He just wants this to be over with. He may not be thinking straight, but he is so hurt and so far gone for Brian.

“Throw away the paper, throw away the mail,”

It had surprised both of them. Justin didn’t even know he started singing until he heard the second line of a very familiar song he had been listening to these past few days. Brian listened.

“Be bad if you want to, be prepared to fail,”

Justin’s voice had started cracking, and he was now sobbing, but he continued to sing the solemn song. In the quiet moments, his sharp breathing could be heard, and it is killing Brian. He had started crying as well. He wanted to protect Justin, give him space, but he did this to him. He was hurting. They were both hurting.

“And all the expectations I would never meet, take you to the point of never believing and you’re tired of me,”

“Justin, please, open the door,”

“Still nobody knows it, something I can’t be, my love.”

It was bittersweet how this song had described everything that was going on Justin’s head. He was so determined to fight for the both of them, but he could never be enough. He would never be the best for him.

“But there’s no one here who loves you like I do, thank god this much is true, thank god this much is true, and there’s no one here who knows just how I feel, thank god this much is real, thank god this much is real, and broken down” Justin had finished the first chorus, and he was full on sobbing now.

“I’m sorry, Brian. I can’t look at you when we break up. It would kill me.”

“We are not breaking up. Let’s speak. Please open the door.” Justin was surprised to hear the raspy voice of the older queen. He had been crying, he sounded desperate and hurt, and Justin wants nothing else but to comfort him, make him stop hurting.

Justin turned the lock on the door. Brian heard the clicking, and stood up to open it to reveal a small Justin curled up on the cold tiled floor, head in his knees, hair sticking out everywhere. Brian is reminded of the small boy that he helped pick himself up, but now he has done this. Brian had made Justin go back to square one.

“I’m sorry.” Justin apologized as soon as Brian enters. Brian mimics Justin’s position directly in front of him on the floor, their knees brushing.

“I’m sorry, Justin.” Brian meant it. He was sorry he let Justin feel this way. He didn’t know how insecure he was on their relationship, and that’s because Brian failed to secure him, and he’s sorry.

“This is pathetic. I’m drunk. I’m sorry. I’m very insecure; I thought I was getting better, but here I am. It’s just, the thought of losing you fucked me up. I love you so fucking much, but there are so many reasons for you to not love me. I’m a baby, I robbed you, burglarized you, I’m a snake. And I had been convincing myself that we wouldn’t be a Needles-Thunderfuck up repeat, but we are because I’m drunk and insecure.” Justin looks up now, and Brian was amazed at how Justin had said it in one breath.

“And you just happen to be a sly snake who stole my heart. I’m sorry I failed to make you feel as confident in our relationship as I am. You were able to give me that security, and I didn’t.”

“It was just a joke, I overreacted.”

“Trixie told me, about the phone call.” Justin looked genuinely surprised with the confession.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and Justin, baby, my Trixie thing was a long time ago. That was ages ago. I moved in into the 49th state, and my brain and heart was filled with him, I have no room left for a country barbie doll. Trix and I are good friends, we’ll be okay, but you get it.” Brian kneels down now to get closer into Justin, and held his face to make sure, he gets the point across.

“I’m sorry,”

“Hey, don’t be. I’m sorry I still keep on making jokes about Trixie and I, just —I’m here, Justin. I’m here now. I’m sorry I hadn’t called you. I’m sorry I let it get this way”

“I was the one who let it get to this.”

“Will you please stop blaming yourself? We’ll be okay. We’re okay. Plus, you weren’t the only one who was scared shitless and got fucked up at the thought of losing us.”

Brian used the word us, and Justin could now believe that they’ll be okay. Brian really had this calming effect on him. Maybe because of the blue eyes or just how he knows what to say anytime.

“Does that mean we’re not breaking up?”

“I’m disappointed at myself that you even considered that,” Brian was about to kiss Justin, but the taller queen stops him. “I’m drunk,”

“That’s fair,” but Brian still kissed him, and Justin could feel the difference in this kiss. Brian was trying to get a point across, and Justin could understand it, he could melt into the kiss.

When they break apart, Brian had showered his face with kisses and embraced him. Justin lets himself fall into Brian’s warmth.

“Hey,” Brian calls, and pulls out of the hug gently. “You know I love you, right?” Justin nods now, having gained confidence from their talk.

“Do you still feel like drinking?” Oh, Justin had almost forgotten that he had gotten drunk, the heat that the alcohol gave him was replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling only Brian could give him.

“No, um, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t want to pressure you into anything, you can get rid of the bottles in your own time or if you want me to do it, just tell me.” Brian prepares to stand up, and kiss Justin’s head.

“Now, come on up, you need a shower.”

“Help me clean first?”

Brian was surprised by Justin’s decision, but he was glad to help his lover.

They had cleaned the place, Justin making sure he grabbed every bottle and placed it on the trash bag Brian was holding. They had cleaned up after that and tidied the room. They ordered room service and had a Golden Girl’s marathon.

Justin had always hated the impermanence hotels gives him, but right here, right now, as he buries his head into Brian’s shoulder, allowing himself to sleep on an episode, Rose’s interesting stories fading into the background, the hotel looked like theirs, with their drag and their trash, and they’re both here, together. He smiles as he feels a kiss on his forehead, as he fell asleep.“Good night, princess.”

[aquaquadrant]

of love and dancing

okay so this is just some mindless fluff I wrote after ‘the new lars’ because I absolutely adore the fact that the Cool Kids are a dance crew (idk why I waited so long to post it, but the new eps motivated me to finally finish it so here we are).   so please read on and enjoy some poly cool kid fluff, and remember that comments are loved and appreciated! :)

also, click here to read it on FFN and here to read it on A03 - Aqua

of love and dancing

“Alright, let’s go again from the chorus.”

Buck hit play and cranked up the volume, nodding in time with the beat before throwing himself into the dance.

Even as he lost himself in the music, he was hyper-aware of Jenny and Sour Cream beside him, anticipating their movements as if they were his own. They moved together, breathing on the same beats as everything faded away and they focused only on each other and the dance.

They were rehearsing at the warehouse, a warm breeze drifting in and out of the open building. The evening sky cast a soft pink glow into the area, muting the harsh fluorescent lighting. Jenny had brought one of her dad’s old stereos, and Sour Cream had set up the music, one of his original tracks he’d converted to CD. The floor hummed beneath their feet, pulsing with the heavy bass of the music.

Admittedly, it was a little unconventional. Most of the dance crews they competed with had their own studio or rehearsal space that wasn’t a crumbling ruin on the outskirts of town. But Beach City wasn’t exactly dance central, and the city itself was a bit unconventional; it wouldn’t make sense if their dance crew was anything but.

They were a small crew, only three strong. Most crews had well over ten members, with a wide variety of skill sets. They’d already learned that having fewer members meant creative choreography and a much bigger challenge, but Buck didn’t mind it being just the three of them. Realistically, he knew they’d have to expand at some point if they really wanted to establish themselves. He’d already been asking around town, and Sour Cream had been vetting his pool of online friends for any potential members who lived close enough to rehearse regularly. Jenny had even tried, and failed, to get Kiki to join.

But while they were looking for more members, Buck made sure to enjoy these moments they had to themselves, since they wouldn’t last forever.

Besides, for such a small group they were doing very well for themselves. It had been Buck’s idea to form the crew, so he usually took point when choreographing routines, but he wasn’t really a ‘leader.’ It was always a group effort. They worked well together, and when they all collaborated, the routines essentially choreographed themselves.

Buck was just happy that Beach City was hosting the next competition. It’d save them an hour car trip to the cities where the other crews resided.

“Ready?” He spun in to meet Jenny, his arms wrapping around her waist as he and Sour Cream flipped her.

It felt so natural, dancing with them. And it was fun. Most of the time they were all fairly laid back, but when they performed together they just let loose. And dancing in such a small, close-knit group had helped them grow more connected to the point that other crews had commented on their synchronization and chemistry.

“I guess it’s easy for everyone to be on the same beat when there’s only three of you,” another dancer had once told him good-naturedly. “At least there’s one advantage to having such a small crew.”

Buck had just laughed, “I guess so,” but he knew the real reason. When they’d finally taken that plunge and started dating, Jenny and Sour Cream had become such an integral part of his life that they might as well be a part of him, an extension of himself. He could tell they felt it too.

Their choreography came to an end, and Buck paused the track. “How we feeling? Any questions?”

“Wait a sec.” Jenny caught her breath, swiping a hand across her forehead. She was dressed in black leggings and a bright purple workout tank that was already damp with sweat. “Are the two hits after the stomp and twist separate, or do they flow?”

Buck made a noncommittal noise, running over the steps in his mind. “They’re separate, and the emphasis is on the second one. Hit, hit.” He demonstrated the movements; two consecutive sharp jabs with the elbow, stepping into the second one.

“Mmm, okay.” Jenny nodded thoughtfully, marking the steps.

Buck took a sip from his water bottle. “You guys wanna run it again, or can we go on?”

“I think we’re good.” Sour Cream stretched his arms over his head, the hem of his black T-shirt riding up ever so slightly. “We’ve made a lot of ground today.”

Jenny nodded her agreement, and Buck set his water bottle back down. “Okay, cool. So what comes after the chorus?”

Sour Cream tilted his head, his fluffy white hair falling into his eyes. “Uh, the dubstep section I think? We’re pretty much at the end of it.”

“Any suggestions?” Buck asked.

Jenny thought for a moment, humming the melody as she played the dance in her mind. Suddenly she snapped her fingers, her coffee-colored eyes lighting up. “I’ve got it! SC, you should totally do a solo there!”

Sour Cream was taken aback. “Really? You think?”

“Yeah! Listen.” Jenny knelt by the stereo and rewound the track. “Right after the bass drop, it sort of goes crazy. I think it’d be the perfect place for some animating.”

“I agree,” Buck said. Sour Cream had surprised both of them, and himself, with his skill in animation, and so far, he hadn’t had a chance to really showcase it in their routines.

Sour Cream closed his eyes and listened to the music, his body moving imperceptibly as he marked out the movements in his head. “Yeah, I could swing this.”

“So what’d you have in mind, then?” Jenny prompted, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, there is a new move I wanted to show you,” Sour Cream said, rolling his shoulders to loosen them up. “I saw this on the internet, you’re supposed to move your whole body around without moving your head, so you look like a robot.”

“What, like a chicken head?” Jenny teased.

Sour Cream looked thoughtful. “Uh, yeah, actually.”

“Let’s see it, then,” Buck said, rewinding the CD and hitting play.

They all fell silent as Sour Cream started to dance, his eyes becoming half-lidded as he fell into a sort of trance. The improvised movements were sharp, controlled, and almost mechanical in nature- he truly did look like a robot.

A smile spread across Buck’s face. He never ceased to be amazed by Sour Cream’s dancing; it was so different from the break dancing Buck himself was partial to, and a totally different genre from the crumping Jenny excelled at. It required an insane amount of muscle control, and he knew SC spent many an hour perfecting his technique. It was unfortunate he was so down on himself- he often felt like his skills couldn’t compare to theirs.

The music faded out, and Sour Cream looked up at them expectantly. “What’d you guys think, did it look right?”

Jenny whistled. “Woah, that’s awesome!”

“Man, that is sick,” Buck said appreciatively.

“Yeah?” Sour Cream looked pleasantly surprised.

“Totally. Just, one thing.” Buck stepped in close, draping one arm around SC’s shoulders, and one across his chest. “Try leading with your chest, instead of your shoulders.” He guided the pale boy through the movement slowly. “See, like that?”

Sour Cream’s face was flushed. “Yeah, I see.”

“Good.” Buck grinned, and quick as a flash he slipped his hands beneath the hem of SC’s shirt and pressed his fingers against the taller boy’s sides, which he knew to be particularly sensitive.

Sour Cream let out a high-pitched yelp. “Dude, your hands are freezing!”

“I know.” Buck nuzzled his shoulder playfully. “Just making sure you don’t get distracted.”

Sour Cream’s expression turned mischievous. “Oh, yeah?” He retaliated by tackling Buck to the floor and tickling him mercilessly. “How’s this for distracted?”

“No fair!” Buck gasped, his laughter echoing around the warehouse.

“All’s fair in love and dancing!” Sour Cream retorted. He tugged Buck’s shirt up and blew a raspberry on his stomach.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jenny interrupted with her hands on her hips, looking bemused. “In case you guys forgot, we still have work to do.”

Sour Cream pouted. “You just hate fun,” he said teasingly, sticking his tongue out at her.

Buck took advantage of the momentary respite to flip Sour Cream over, pinning the other boy to the ground. “Nah, she’s just jealous,” he grinned.

Jenny sniffed haughtily at them. “No, I’m just being mature.” She gave them a smile to let them know she wasn’t really displeased; she was only giving them a hard time.

Buck hummed and sat back, his legs still sprawled across SC’s stomach. “Well, Miss Mature, why don’t you get off your high horse and- augh!”

Sour Cream had used his temporary freedom to snatch his water bottle and dump it over Buck’s head, thoroughly soaking him.

“Oh, it’s on!” Buck’s own water bottle was within reach, and he used it to exact revenge, pouring it all over the other teen. Sour Cream’s hair, normally an untamable gravity-defying mess, was drenched and plastered to his head and face. He blinked up at him, his minty blue eyes wide and appealing, and Buck finally leaned down and closed the distance between them, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

Sour Cream responded instantly, and reached up to grab Buck’s sopping wet shirt as leverage to pull him closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Buck obliged, his eyes fluttering closed. He could feel his shades slipping down the bridge of his nose.

After a few seconds they broke apart, smiling at each other breathlessly. Sour Cream leaned up to kiss Buck again when he paused, glancing to the side. He started snickering, the sound rumbling in his chest beneath Buck’s splayed fingers. Buck followed his gaze to Jenny and broke into a self-satisfied grin at her expression.

She seemed to have frozen on the spot, starry eyed and blushing faintly.

Buck sat back up, lifting his eyebrows. “Hey, Jen, you’re staring,” he said softly.

Jenny started, her face growing even redder. “No I’m not!” she insisted.

Buck gave her a knowing smile and pushed his shades back up.

Sour Cream continued to laugh beneath him. “Okay, so maybe you weren’t. Or,” he drawled, “you could drop the act and join us, unless you still think we should get back to work?”

Jenny bit her lip. “I… guess we could call it a day,” she amended, walking over to them. “But we still have work to do! Don’t you go thinking you can get out of rehearsal by being distracting, okay?”

Buck gently tugged her down to join them, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Okay. Same time tomorrow then?” he asked innocently.

Jenny grinned and rolled her eyes, kissing them both in quick succession. “I don’t know how we manage to get anything done,” she said with a huff.

“I guess we’re just that good!” Sour Cream exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air emphatically.

Buck took each of their hands in his, lacing their fingers together. He nodded serenely, smiling in contentment.

“We’re good together.”

End

P.S. here's a link to a video that showcases some of the dancing I pictured while writing this (the animating stuff SC was talking about shows up at the very end, but the whole dance is very good). Thanks for reading! - Aqua

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32NAd20obbM

(if the link breaks, search 'Step Up 3: Battle of Red Hook')

[calacavera-blog]

maldicion / perdicion

Something didn’t feel right.

It was a gut instinct that he had become familiar with, and one that he had grown to trust. Something akin to how dogs would howl or cats would mewl or birds would scatter and animals act erratically just before a sudden natural disaster; there was a pit in his stomach that formed like a knot that settled to tighten as a fist.

Of course, this all was a given when in the middle of a horde of undead trying to kill you, but even in this situation something didn’t settle right with him, using a rather long machete he found in gardening supplies as a weapon. Something felt off.

The stench from the rotted corpses bathed in seawater was horrible and the nausea overtook him for a moment as he pinched his nose and breathed through his mouth to recover.

There were stories he heard of those he had rescued and helped over to shelter--stories of meeting their deceased loved ones as these undead, decaying remnants of lost worlds. Sometimes not even deceased. Perhaps that was the source of his unease: the possibility of this happening to him.

No matter what, he thought to himself, he was already prepared to face whoever in his past might return. He had paid his dues in those letters. He had promised to take care of him if their paths crossed. He was prepared.

As he slashed through a row of three, he continued his way down the district. He heard a sound down one of the alleys. He turned a corner into it in an attempt to investigate. There, at the backend, he discovered the sound was the meowing of a stray cat in a dumpster.

He smiled at it, opened a can of tuna from his pack, and left it at a corner for it to eat. He was fine with leaving the cat alone; he trusted animals to be able to survive on their own than humans, after all.

He turned around to walk out the alley, but was stopped.

No.

There was a figure shambling through the corner of the alley, its head slamming into the wall as it was unable to correct itself through the turn in time.

No...

He was prepared. But not for this.

“No... No, no, no...” he whispered. There was no panic, shock, or fear in his voice. It was a tired sort of mumbling, when despair had reached a point beyond an event horizon that all emotion was dulled for the moment.

Short, wavy blonde hair. A clover hairpin. Green eyes. A certain scar on the right wrist. Average stature. Slender frame. He began to picture a coy smile. All of it replaced by a rotted bastardization.

“No, no... Not you. Please, not you. Please...” He started to laugh, and that made his blood run cold.

“Why you. Out of... Why...” His voice was louder, addressing the staggering corpse approaching him closer.

“No... Tina...” he finally whispered out her nickname.

She was reading a book. A very thin book, with pictures. A comic book.

He sat next to her, engrossed in a heftier book--one without pictures at all.

While he silently moved his lips, mouthing the words he read on page, she was quietly tapping a rhythm on the back cover of her comic book.

A steady rhythm at first, but it was slowly increasing in tempo and volume, to the point where he thought there was a woodpecker around.

“AUGH! THAT’S ENOUGH!” she finally cried out in exasperation, startling him enough to close the book. He frowned, realizing he lost the page he was on.

“Tina...?” he asked, but was cut off before he could ask more.

“THIS IS SO BORING! THAT’S ENOUGH WAITING AROUND READING BORING NERD BOOKS!”

“But you’re reading a comic b--”

“YOU ARE READING THE BORING NERD BOOKS!”

“But this is a book you gave m--”

“IT”S STILL A BORING NERD BOOK!”

“But you’ve already read this through four t--”

“AND I GOT BORED OF THIS BORING NERD BOOK! THAT’S WHY I GAVE IT TO YOU! UGH, KEEP UP MERCY!” she let out a sigh, running her hands back and forth through her short hair.

“Oh, I’m sorry...” said the boy, scratching the back of his own head.

“AND QUIT APOLOGIZING! DIDN’T I TELL YOU YOU’RE TOO MUCH OF A DOORMAT?”

“Sorr--I mean, okay...” he said, having opened his book to a random page, bringing it up to hide his face in.

The girl paused, setting her comic book aside. She clicked her tongue.

“Ahhh, no I’m sorry. It’s just so boring sitting in one spot so long. I did enough of that reading too many nerd books,” she spoke in lower volume and calmer tone.

“It’s okay. Then...do we do something?” the boy asked, unsure of what would help her boredom.

“We can try jump rope again!” she shouted in excitement.

“It still hurts where I fell down last time...” the boy whispered. He didn’t like pain at all.

“Let’s go rollerblading!”

“I fell down then, too.”

“Play catch?”

“I sprained my wrist.”

“Mercy, you’re pretty weak.”

“...Oh.” He appeared hurt by that.

“Th-That’s why I’m doing these things with you to make you stronger! So you can protect me and stuff, like a real hero!” She tried to recover the foot in her mouth, standing up from beneath the shade of the oak tree, smiling at him with radiance. She reached one hand to playfully ruffle his hair. “Come on! Let’s go arm wrestle! Uh, left hand!”

The boy closed the book and carefully set it aside, his smile more timid. “O-Okay!”

Around their group of friends, he was considered the baby. It was something he loathed, and it was the source of a number of insecurities he would carry through life, but he really couldn’t object to the role.

He was introduced to them by Tatyana, after all. Well, more adopted. Even after he was slowly beginning to open up to everyone, he still stuck beside her and spent most of his time around her.

It was funny, their friends babied him more than she did, but he still only really felt closest to her. Perhaps because she knew, deep down and unconscious, that being babied was something he didn’t want--that he wanted to be treated like a normal friend and not the cute kid everyone wanted to pinch cheeks.

Still, even as he became more outgoing and his smiles grew wider, his timid nature slowly left him, they tended to leave him as the one to be attended to, like some very spoiled prince. It’d been years, and relatively little had changed.

Maybe being called Mercy made him come off cuter than he wanted.

During a trip to the beach, he was taught how to swim by the oldest of their group. He was given food bought for him by the motherly of their group. He napped beneath a palm tree after dozing off from reading a book, and he woke up with a bleach blanket wrapped around him.

“You just have that demeanor,” said one of them.

“You can’t be left alone.”

He felt bad.

“Well... It’s more like, you have this thing about you where people want to take care of you.”

He sighed, then laughed.

“Volleyball?” shouted Tatyana.

On the bus ride home, Tatyana had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He stared at her for a few seconds, tilting his head. He playfully ruffled her hair. Then he yawned. He ended up taking a nap, too, his head resting on the crown of hers.

Sometimes...he was okay with being babied. At least, he was thankful to her to have met such kind friends.

“You’ve been...” Tatyana forced a smile, pausing her words.

She couldn’t let out what had been eating her up for the past six months. Her smile wavered for a bit--she dug her nails into her crossed arms.

“Mercy, are you...” She laughed, anxious.

Mercutio froze up, but his wide and bright smile returned. It was about two months from his seventeenth birthday, but in their quiet meeting he had told her he didn’t feel like celebrating this year.

“Did something happen...?” she finally asked.

“...No? What do you mean?” he answered, his smile still the same.

“...that,” she whispered.

“...Sorry?” he asked, not having heard her clearly.

“I hate that... Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He still smiled, this time nervous.

“I can’t stand that! STOP SMILING WHEN YOU DON’T WANT TO!” she shouted, her anger overcoming her concern. “WHAT DO I MEAN? YOU WERE GONE FOR A WHOLE MONTH. THEN YOU COME BACK WITH A SCAR ON YOUR FACE AND YOU TELL ME NOT TO WORRY AND SAY THIS STUPID EXCUSE THAT YOU WENT CAMPING OUT OF NOWHERE? I TRIED PLAYING DUMB, BUT I CAN’T. WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU?”

For once, he stopped smiling.

In a bout of silence, all he did was look away from the worry in her angered face. The wind that swept through old playground they used to love caused the swings to creak into motion. Branches were swaying.

“...That’s none of your business,” he finally said.

Her face dropped.

“...You don’t mean that,” she stated in a blank tone. “You don’t mean that at all.”

“But I do,” he replied, turning to look directly at her.

“No. What happened to you? You’ve been so distant since you came back. You’re always smiling. I was happy you started smiling again, but they felt so fake. That’s not my Mercy.”

“Your Mercy?”

“Mine.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Nothing. Just felt a change. Maybe I’m stronger now.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just...pushing everything away. You’re not stronger. You’re colder. You feel so lonely.”

“Is that so bad? I’m getting out of your hair. Look, I’m doing fine. You think just because I’m not clingy that I’m not okay? Just how weak do you think I am?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what the fuck do you mean?”

“...I mean that you’re not right. I don’t know what it is, but you’re hiding something I should know. Why won’t you tell me?” She was scratching her shoulder.

“And why should you know?”

“Because I’m worried and you owe it to me as your friend?”

“I don’t owe you anything you don’t have to know. Besides, it’s to protect you.”

“PROTECT ME?” she shouted once more. She paused. “Protect me? You’re not protecting me. You’re hurting me and you.”

He stayed quiet, before whispering out a “Sorry.”

“Sorry? That’s it? Half-assed? Tell me! Tell me. You at least owe me a reason.”

“I owe you shit,” he murmured. Then she slapped his face.

Then he realized that he had caught her wrist in his hand by reflex, and that he was unknowingly bending her wrist at an odd angle.

Then he saw tears swell in her eyes--the pain on her shivering figure more emotional than physical. Then his heart sank.

“What happened to my Mercy?” she whispered through despair.

He let go of her wrist. She pulled it away in fear. She looked at him as if he were a monster. That was the first time he’d ever hurt her. That was the first time they’d ever hurt each other.

“I’m sorry. I’m not your Mercy anymore,” was all he could muster before running away, leaving her alone to fall back on a creaky swing.

He couldn’t hear her cry “Please come back” under her breath.

From then on, they would not speak more than a few words to each other. A rift formed, separating them, even as Mercutio couldn’t numb himself to the remorse.

It wouldn’t be about two years later that he would confess all his burdens with tears in his eyes.

As he carried her body in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” a voice asked out to the boy with his head bowed, near the wall behind the playground of an elementary school.

The boy visibly flinched, then slowly raised his head. He had brown hair combed to a part, neat and tidy. It was very clear that someone else had combed his hair for him. It was also very clear from his brown eyes he’d been crying.

“Why you all alone here?” the voice asked, a girl with blonde hair and green eyes. She looked genuinely confused.

The boy didn’t speak for a good minute, but the girl just kept peering at him in wonder.

“...No one comes here,” he finally answered, his voice low.

“But you’re here!” she exclaimed, sitting down next to him. The boy scooted a few inches away.

“No one else comes here,” he elaborated.

“So you want ta be alone?”

“...Yes...” he said, with a bit of coaxing.

“How come?” she asked. The boy realized she was going to keep this until he gave a straight answer.

“Everyone hates me. They call me a monster and laugh and put glue in my shoes.” Oh, that was too straightforward, he thought.

“What! Why?” she asked. There was a moment of silence as the boy played with a shoelace.

“Oh! You’re that kid!” she suddenly spoke up, startling the boy. She smiled. “That boy! The cut arm one!”

A strange way to phrase it, but she was right. He’d cut his arm while on the swing during recess, an accident caused by a bent chain link. He was crying loudly, and a number of kids gathered around trying to help and call the teacher. But by the time the teacher got there, the cut had already healed, the blood he’d already wiped clean out of panicking. The teacher asked him not to lie, and the kids who’d saw his arm heal started calling him a monster.

“...Yeah...” he said. She clapped, startling him for the third time.

“That’s so cool! Can you really?!” She was excited. “Can you show me!”

“...” The boy looked confused and concerned, then scratched his palm deep enough to draw blood. He winced in pain, but in a matter of seconds the scratch healed. He looked back up at the girl to see her eyes wide.

He bowed his head, waiting to be called a monster again.

“What are you doing?!” she shouted, grabbing his hand and checking his palm.

“Sh-Showing you...?” He was startled once more, but this time he was scooting further away from her touch.

“I asked can you, not may you! All the teachers keep correcting us about it, how come you ain’t know the difference?!’ she shouted, only making him more confused.

“Sorry...” Regardless, he apologized.

“Don’t be! It’s ‘cause I ain’t spoke right,” she said, finally letting go of his hand after confirming it was okay. Then, her anger was turned into a wide smile. “But that’s so cool! You can fix up your body super quick! Like a...! Like uh, um...”

“Monster...” he finished.

“SUPERHERO!” she corrected.

“...Wha--”

“A SUPERHERO! You’re like a superhero! In the comics and stuff! That’s so cool! Are you a superhero?”

“No...?”

“You gotta be one! Great power! I forgot the rest, but great power!”

“...Okay...?”

“Then it’s decided! We’re gonna make you a superhero! Stop bad guys! Then you can protect people! Oh, protect me! Wait, no, sidekick? I’ll be sidekick!” Throughout her rambling, her excitement only grew. Even the boy was starting to feel the same energy.

“Y-Yeah!” he finally spoke in a voice louder than a whisper.

“You get a costume!”

“Yeah!”

“You kick butts!”

“Yea--No!” All his excitement was sapped at the thought of hurting others.

“...No good?” she asked.

“No good...” he confirmed.

“Oh...” She clicked her tongue. “But you can still protect people! Super cool!”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, really cool! Come on, we gotta work to think of a name and stuff! Let’s do this!” She was standing up, hopping on one leg then another. “Wait! What’s your name?”

“Mercutio,” he responded.

“Mercucho?”

“Mercutio...”

“Marecushow?”

“Mer--”

“Argh! It’s hard to say! I’ll just--OH! I’ll call you Mercy!”

“Mercy...?”

“Yeah, and it could be like your superhero name! Friendly Neighborhood Mercy! No, that’s copying. Uh... Your Mercy! You like it?”

“I guess...” He didn’t want to admit that being called Mercy was a bit embarrassing.

“Great! I’m Tatyana! Tatyana Fauvel!”

“T-Tati--”

“No, we’re not doing that again. Call me Tina!”

“Tina...?”

“Yeah!”

“Tina...!” he said, beaming.

“Yeah! Let’s go be--no your hair won’t do,” she said, reaching one hand and ruffling Mercy’s hair, messing up his combed hair. “Superheroes can’t have lame hair! It’s gotta be cool like you fight and stuff!”

He could admit that he flinched, but he could also admit that it felt nice. Since then, they would play every recess, and she would always ruffle his hair. Pretty soon, the original intent to make him a superhero was lost and they became best friends. At that point, ruffling his hair was more out of affection.

All these memories ran through his mind. Memories he’d tried to keep away, locked in the farthest corners of his mind. Memories that flooded his head, threatening to drown him. Memories that paralyzed him and locked him in place.

Her voice. Her voice kept echoing in his head. His ears were ringing, and her friendly and caring voice kept repeating. 

His cherished, dearest, childhood friend. The friend he didn’t write a letter to. The friend he tried to forget. The friend who died because of him. The friend he carried in his arms.

He kept shaking his head, sweat beading on his brow. Tears falling from his eyes in torrents. Even without a clear sign of emotion on his face.

Was this punishment for having tried to abandon her memory? No, there was no divine reason. It was just pure chance. Another joke.

He was stuck in a state of perpetual grief, anger, denial, guilt, and sadness. He became unaware of everything but her memory. He didn’t even notice that her shambling corpse had reached him, nor did he realize that she was chewing his arm.

It was just her. Her voice. Her voice.

Her voice. Encouraging him.

“You can do it, wimp!”

Her voice. Her voice. Her voice. Her voice.

“Keep it together, man.”                                                       “Second place for player two. Haha.”

Her voice. Her voice. Laughing at her own bad jokes. Her voice her voice.

Her.

“Are you okay?”

“You should eat more. You’re skinny.”              “Smile!”                                       “Model ships?”                   “Have you ever tried poker?”                  “Royal flush! Oh, that’s a straight.”           “I learned how to sew!”                       “Don’t wake me up until... Five more minutes...”                  “Are you hungry?”                “Since I’m all grown now, I can eat two burgers easy.”   “Listen to this.”         “Pull my finger!”                            “That was a mistake, my stomach...”         “Are you okay?”                  “That’s three times I win in a row!”        “I’m bored.”  “Have you met my dad?”        “Miklo said he could take us fishing. Do you wanna go?”                            “It’s like. Everything’s too hard. Math sucks.”                “Stay put, your hair...”                            Her.                                                        “Where’s the watermelon?”     “You pepper the ravioli.”                                                           “My Mercy.”                                                                                                    “Let’s split it. I’ll give you half.”              “You fucking nerd.”                                                 Voice.

                                                              “My Mercy.”

“...Isn’t that enough?”

His eyes were devoid of light.

What a wonderful dream we shared.

He only reached his hands around her rotted corpse still biting through his arm, pulled her in close into a hug.

Your dreams won’t last forever.

Then he screamed.

Despaired. Loud. Guttural. Demonic.

He was holding tightly to her corpse, hearing it crunch the more pressure he placed.

He kept blaming himself for neglecting her.

He kept blaming himself for what happened to her.

He kept blaming himself because he couldn’t ask for forgiveness anymore.

There were more shamblers approaching, having been alerted to his location by his scream. All he did was stare blankly at the approaching horde. His machete had been dropped, but he was okay.

He was okay.

He was prepared.

He fought okay with his hands, personally tearing the limbs off every single one. Methodical. Emotionless. Not a man, neither a beast.

Even as he was swarmed, he was methodical. Locked away in his mind.

Blood. Body parts. Heads. All scattered on the floor.

I’m sorry, Tina.

All except one.

I won’t carry you to be buried. Not a second time. I won’t leave you.

He was cradling a severed head in his arms; crying and trying to smile. He hugged it close to his chest. He vowed to kill whoever had brought her back, desecrating her rest.

I won’t forget. Not again.

He would sit there, crying with her head.

The same mistake.

[cafffine]

Please keep Chewie posting, I literally love him so much

I'll never stop Chewie posting anon, in fact, here's a little fic about Chewie, beach trips, and his family just for you 😬💘 (read on ao3)

“Chewie,” Luke wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Please, please, one more time.”

“Alright, okay, leave him alone,” Han grumbled. “I think we’ve heard enough.”

“No, no, one more!”

Chewbacca reached over and pat Han’s shoulder. “I don’t mind, but you are kind to look out for me.”

Han rolled his eyes and tapped away at the navi-computer. “Whatever, we’re gonna be there soon anyway.”

Leia gasped for breath and pushed herself back into the seat she’d slid out of. “Hold on, hold on I wasn’t ready, oh stars.”

Chewbacca smiled and busied himself with landing preparations while the twin’s laughter died down. He knew it made Han nervous sometimes, but he liked when everyone rode in the cockpit, traveling was better as a communal effort.

Luke leaned forward and popped his head between the pilot seats. “Okay, we’re good, please, just give it your best shot.”

“I’ll try,” Chewbacca hummed. “But it’s not going to come out right.”

Han reached up and got the stabilizers warming. “That’s the point, they’re making fun of you.”

“Han, Han,” Chewbacca soothed. “You’re too tense, I think you should take a nap once we arrive.”

“Oh, sure, and karking burn to death?”

“I brought an umbrella.” Chewbacca gestured to the back. “You will be safe.”

“Chewie, please,” Luke whined.

“Okay.” Chewbacca nodded. “Give me a moment.” The chances of success were in the negatives, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give it his best.

He hummed a few times to ready his vocal cords and clear his throat, this alone was enough to send Leia into a fit once more.

“You can do it.” Luke kicked his sister. “I believe in you.”

Chewbacca gave Luke’s little blond head an appreciative scratch, maybe he could do it.

“Take it slow,” Han advised. “It’s only two syllables.”

Chewbacca took a deep breath. “H-E,” he barked out, doing his damnedest to replicate the impossible sounds of basic. “L-L-L-L-OH.”

Luke shrieked and collapsed to the floor.

“No, oh Gods.” Leia shook her head, her eyeliner was starting to run. “That is too – I can’t handle this.”

“Good try.” Han had to turn towards the radio to hide his laughter. “That was a good try, buddy.”

“I think I’m getting better.” Chewbacca flicked off the shields and began redirecting power to engines in preparation for the end of their jump. “You should have heard me fifty years ago.”

“Why wasn’t I recording?” Luke moaned. “Wedge would lose his mind if I played that for him.”

Leia fanned her face and kicked her feet up on Han’s armrest. “I’m going to be thinking about that all day, that was amazing.”

“Buckle up, both of you.” Han tapped Leia’s foot. “And someone needs to put sunscreen on my back.”

Chewbacca raised his hand. “I’d be happy to-”

“No.” Han grimaced. “Anyone but you. Your fur always gets in it and – augh – no.”

“Sunscreen?” Luke flopped back into his seat. “There’s only gonna be one sun, how bad could it be?”

Leia tossed a bottle into his lap. “Bad. And if you don’t put it on, I’ll tell Threepio.”

“Rude.” Luke threw the bottle back at her. “I’ll do it when we get there.”

“We are here.” Han leaned back and braced himself as the Falcon snapped out of hyperspace and began gliding towards the bright turquoise of southern Glee Anselm. “Now put the damn sunscreen on, kid. You’re paler than me.”

“And don’t forget the tips of your ears,” Chewbacca added. He couldn’t imagine how terrifying it was for humans and their baldness. He’d left Han out in the sun for too long once and his shoulders started to peel the next day, it was a trauma he was still recovering from.

“Chewie, can you pull the map up? I haven’t been here in ages.” Han squinted down at the distant strips of sand and kicked the engine down to just above the speed limit. “Man, I hope we can find parking.”

Leia frowned. “If we had borrowed the Phantom from Hera like I suggested that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Sweetheart,” Han bit. “If we’d come in the Phantom, there’d be no one to stop Lando from taking my ship-”

“Who cares?” Leia tossed her hands up. “Let him have it! Who takes a freighter this big to the beach anyway?”

Han whipped around; finger raised. “Look, if you two want to fly yourself two kriffing systems over-”

“Oh, come on,” Luke groaned “What did I do?”

“-then you are welcome to use that pathetic little shuttle. But if you want me to get you there? We’re taking the Falcon.”

“Don’t argue, please, don’t argue.” Chewbacca reached over and gently guided Han’s attention back towards the window. “I’ll drop you all off at the entrance and park the ship myself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Han muttered. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Them?” Luke squawked. “I haven’t done anything!”

“Shut up.” Leia threw the bottle of sunscreen back at his head. “It’s because he knows you’re on my side.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“It’ll be fine,” Chewbacca assured. “Just message me where you pitch the umbrella and I’ll be there when I can.”

Han shook his head, still bitter about Leia’s betrayal. “I just don’t think we should split up. It’s winter on six of the planets in this system, the place is gonna be packed.”

“I’m very tall.” Chewbacca sat up straighter to demonstrate. “I’ll find you.”

“Hey, are we drinking?” Luke leaned forward again, ignoring Han’s annoyed glance. “I heard there’s a place near the lifeguard tent that serves Margaritas Shili style.”

“Like you could handle that,” Leia scoffed.

“Not me.” Chewbacca hit the switch for the landing gear. “I need to have a clear mind when I fly you all home, but you can enjoy yourselves.”

“What’d he say?” Luke asked.

Han chuckled. “He said go crazy.”

Luke thumped Chewbacca’s arm. “That’s why he’s my favorite.”

Chewbacca waited until the ship was stable, then took Han’s seat as the group began to gather their towels and tote bags. The sky outside was clear blue and the sand pure white, Chewbacca did not look forward to washing it out of his fur.

He couldn’t complain, though. They’d chosen a good day, the crowds were worth it. The sun was just direct enough to keep the water warm without making the sand too hot for sensitive human feet to walk on.

“I don’t care how good it is, do not pay more than twenty credits for parking,” Han instructed. “We are not a bunch of clueless tourists.”

“I know, I know.” Chewbacca waved him off. “I’ll find a good spot.”

“Thanks, Chewie!” Luke waved before skipping out into the sun, followed by his sister and a yawning Han.

“Don’t forget the umbrella!” Chewbacca called after them. “Han! The umbrella!”

“Yep, yeah, got it.” Han came dashing back up the gangway and snatched the folded umbrella off the table. “Thanks, pal.”

“You are welcome.”

Chewbacca waited to start the engine until he could see the three of them trudging through the sand and towards the water. Han was speaking angrily with his hands and Leia reached around him to bat Luke in the head with her inflatable doughnut.

Chewbacca was happy for them. “H-E,” he began, then shook his head, one battle at a time.