#Norman Jayden/Ethan Mars | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aru-xx · 10 months ago

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I'm here now. // Detroit Become Human x Heavy Rain

A/N: yooo! I really hope that whoever might be reading this, will enjoy the short story about this alternative universe! it actually took me a little time to make, but in the end i'm pretty happy how it turned out. any kind of feedback is always appreciated and if you liked this fanfic, then make sure to check out my account for more stories or leave me some requests for stories with your own ideas. have a great day/night! // Word Count: 3295 // not revised // ――――――――――――― 6th October 2034, 5:37pm, DPD I just sat there staring at the files and reports in front of me, not taking up anymore information I was getting. Suddenly a hand gently touched my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. "Mister Anderson, I think it'd be a good idea for you to go home and catch a break. This case will be in good hands and will have top priority, I can promise that." The man next to me spoke in a calm yet serious voice, making me slowly stand up from the chair I was sitting on. "We will be quick to inform you about anything new. Good evening." That was the last thing he said to me, before I heard his footsteps getting quieter as he was walking away to presumably do something of more importance. I took a sharp breath in while my eyes were still sticking to all of the reports I saw on the table. -nine year old boy found dead near the freeway! will the origami killer be back again this year?- -seven year old boy gone missing on his way home from school!- I felt myself feeling sicker with every second that passed just looking at all of this. Needing to get some fresh air and to clear my mind, I quickly stepped out of the building before feeling the cold weather outside instantly. I slowly started walking home in trance and silence. My mind was empty, I couldn't think straight anymore after the hours of sitting in the police station and explaining the officers what happened. I scoffed in frustration. I was the one who was supposed to take care of him. I am an Officer myself, so I should've been the one searching for him now. I should've looked out for him more and be a better father to him. My Cole. My sweet little boy. He's just 5 years old. How was he supposed to be out here all alone?

6th October 2034, 5:56pm, Michigan Drive 115 Opening the door to my House I felt like I was abandoning everything I have ever cared for if I only dared to close that door again. I stepped inside the warm home, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling before locking the door behind me. Hearing sumo walking out of the living room he was probably sleeping in before, i kneel down to his height waiting for him to approach me. "Hey there boy", I said almost in a whisper as I petted him before taking off my jacket and shoes. As sumo went back into the living room I saw some mails on the shelf, I grabbed them before walking into the kitchen and tossing them onto the table, not caring much about it. I then opened the fridge to get myself a beer, opening it and sitting down on a chair at the kitchen table. I took a big sip of the alcoholic drink, already feeling the sad comfort in my throat, before I roughly ripped open the mails. "Uninteresting, uninteresting, uninteresting.." I kept looking through them without much interest, before stopping at one specific mail that i was finding rather odd. I looked at the weird letter which had no sender address on it. Just a tiny bit more interested now, I opened this one with more care before pulling out the sheet of paper that was in it. When the parents came home from church, all their children were gone. They searched and called for them, they cried and begged, but it was all to no avail. The children have never been seen again. I swallowed at the sight of the kind of disturbing text, not knowing what that was supposed to mean nor why I got this mail. My mind was racing again and all I could think about was Cole. I heard a loud thunder rumble, which made me look at the window that was covered in thousands of rain drops. It was raining heavily again. I stared outside the window for a moment, seeing the dark clouds covering the sky and making the whole place look more depressed than it already was. Cole. He had to be out there. He would get sick. I felt my mood take a drastical twist as i looked inside the envelope now and found a ticket for a luggage locker inside. Again not knowing what this was, I still knew that something was off about this, so I kept the ticket before pushing everything else from the table in frustration, anger, unsteadiness and most of all sadness. I laid down my head on the table putting my hands over my head, not caring about the now shattered glass on the floor or the instant noodles that sumo would probably eat soon. I was at helpless and I knew it. I failed him and even myself, I knew it. I knew it but I just couldn't accept the fact that this was my fault. That him being scared out there all alone now.. was only me failing as a father.

7th October 2034, 2:18pm, Lexington Station The police hasn't reported anything new to me yet so they had most likely no trace of my son so far, but that would only be true if they were actually keeping their word on letting me know every new information about his well being and the investigation. I wasn't stupid though. I was a cop myself so I knew how things had to go. But the only difference here was, that i wasn't doing this as my job. I was doing this because I was his father and threfore I was on a different level than them. I did have a possible traceand I wasn't willing to give that up. Walking into the Train Station I almost feltlike a criminal even if what I was doing wasn't anything illegal. Getting some luggage from a letter that I received wasn't a crime, was it? But no matter what, in order to succeeded I had to keep my cool while walking past thesecurity and trying to find the right locker. Getting past the man that was apparently checking for any suspicous behaviour, was in fact just sitting in his chair and letting everyone pass with less than half care about it. "Row 18, locker 3", I whispered tomyself, checking the ticket and all the lockers in front of me, until I had found the right one. I carefully opened it before taking out the shoe box that was insidewith a rather confused look. I quickly checked the area for any civilians before not even hesitating to open the box and seewhat was inside of it, but what I saw made me feel sick. There were little origamifigures, an old phone with a memory card and .. a gun. My stomach began to churn, alarming me thatthis was nothing a normal person had to do with. It was more than clear that not only the gun was a hint to the killer but also the origami figures that were his kind of signature that he left right before every missing child was found, together with an orchid on the dead bodies. I just stood there for a longtime, thinking about how this would be my son if I didn't act fast enough. How this would happen to a lot more fathers and mothers. Thinking about all possible things. But in the end I came to the conclusion that I was only sure about the fact that I wanted to save my little boy. Iwanted to be a good protector to him again. A good father. But I knew. I knew. If I wanted to really save him, I had to give this to thepolice and let them handle it. I could do nothing for him. Again.

7th October 2034, 3:12pm, DPD I walked into the Police Department, having already informed the FBI Profiler Norman Jayden who was working together with Lieutenant Carter Blake in the origami killer case, about my findings. I didn't quite like the FBI because of their way of handling things, but I had a good feeling about this particularly man so I trusted him enough to let him try to save my son, which already should mean the world. Getting closer to all of the officer's desks I heard Agent Jayden and Officer Blake talk to a man who was sitting on a chair in front of a table that had different files on it. He reminded me of myself, sitting in that same chair yesterday. Reminded me of how i felt at that moment. I looked down at the box I was holding, feeling the sadness and guilt catch up to me again. Being lost in my thoughts for a second made me not realize how they almost finished their talk. That was until the man stood up trying to walk a little after the lieutenant, making me also look up at them. "Hey, do you think the origami killer..", he wasn't able to finish his sentence which led to an uneasy silence in the conversation. "Listen, your sons probably just run off and will turn up in a couple hours", the officer replied rather annoyed. "But what if it is the origami killer?", while the father was sounding more than just worried. "Well then we have about 4 days to find him alive". As soon as Carter Blake spat his words out and left, I instantly regretted listening in on their conversation and looked back down to avoid having to look into the mans eyes who has just recently had a traumatic experience. It made me realize. He was also a father. A father who lost his son. Like me. Like everyone else before. I was sure now. I was sure about that this was the right thing to do. To put a stop to this never-ending nightmare for all people out there who lost their lovely children. After I looked up again I saw the man leaving into the waiting area and talking to a woman which seemed to be his wife .. or ex-wife. At least the mother ofthe young boy. I decided that this was no longer something of my business, even if it wasn't in the first place either. I walked over to the FBI Agent who seemed rather stressed but not surprised to see me once he noticed me. "Mr. Anderson." He looked at the box I was holding before standing up straight again, after he was bending over the table for I was guessing the whole questioning from the father. "Please follow me into my office." He forced a calm voice out of him while I stayed silent. We walked into his office, and he closed the door behind us as I simply put the box on his desk. I gave a heavy sigh, not even daring to look into the mans eyes due to me being ashamed of myself that I was much older than this FBI Profiler and yet I couldn't even bring myself to even try or believe in myself that I could find and rescue my son myself but instead put it on other peoples backs. It was pathetic. "Save my son. Please. You have to. Not only for me but for everyone. For the father that also lost his little boy." I paused, opening my mouth to speak again but only shook my head and put my hands on the table for some grip while staring down at it. "Ethan Mars. I know i'm not supposed to share this information with you but that was the fathers name, and his son is named Shaun Mars. He also felt guilty about losing his son just like that even if he was supposed to take care of him. But if I can promise you one thing Mister Anderson .. then that would be that I WILL find your and Mister Mars sons and put a stop to this." I turned around, looking surprised for a moment that the Agent was sympathising with me and giving me personal informations about this man only for me to be able to get in touch with him. I quickly put a thankful smile on my face which not only showed and expressed my sadness and helplessness but also my gratitude and relief I felt at the moment. Without another word having to be spoken, I left the office and with that also the DPD.

11th October 2034, 7:22pm, The Old Warehouse A normal Friday evening, standing outside an old warehouse together with the police and just waiting for something to happen. Someone to come out of the building. My nerves were completely shot, and I haven't really slept for the past few days because of the fact that I was not knowing anything about how close or far away the police were to catching the origami killer and finding my son. But now. Now it was finally time, so when I got a call from Norman Jayden that he knows who and where the origami killer is I couldn't help but feel a little bit of hope grow inside me. And now I would either see my son come out of this building .. or not. Everything would be finished tonight and there was no other way. But I already knew that if my little boy wouldn't be here anymore, I would break. I would never be the same ever again. "Hank?" A man next to me spoke up and I quickly turned my head in the direction of the voice, seeing Ethan giving me an even more worried expression than he already had all the time, if that was even possible. "I couldn't bear to never see him again. I love him too much for something so brutally." I spoke truthfully, sharing what was going through my mind with him. Over the painful time I was kept in the dark, I decided to take the chance Agent Jayden gave me and get in touch with Ethan Mars. And now I would never regret doing that, because hearing his story and knowing there was someone who was going through the same as me right now made me feel much more understood with my own feelings, thoughts and the situation. "Movement on the front doors! Keep in position! On my call!" I heard and saw the whole situation getting heated up faster than I could blink and Ethan and I were both pushed a little further away by some of the cops to avoid us getting in the way or hurt. My eyes were fixated on the door, no thoughts were crossing my mind anymore. I couldn't think anymore. I just wanted to see my boy. I wanted to know he was fine. I wanted to see him smile as he was calling out for me. For his father. I wanted to hold him again. My .. One of the doors got pushed opened fully now as we saw the injured FBI profiler walking out of the building with his hands raised to avoid getting mistaken by the killer and shot. "Person verified. Agent Norman Jayden." My heart dropped seeing the man come out of the building alone. I froze up. Feeling sick again all of a sudden. Not being able to look at the scene anymore I put my hands on my knees to keep myself steady as i bend down in utter despair. "Two more persons verified. Shaun Mars and .." I flipped my head back up within a second, seeing two little boys walk slowly and terrified out of the building, being visibly overwhelmed by the scenery infront of them. "COLE!" I screamed as I ignored the instructions of the Officers and instead ran towards my son, earning his full attention. "Cole Anderson." The police officer finished his sentence before Cole came running towards me, closely followed by Shaun running up to his own dad. "DAD!", Cole screamed with tears in his eyes before just a few moments later I fell to my knees right before him and hugged him tightly. Keeping him close to me again. Holding him in my arms again. "Dad.." he sobbed in relief and sorrow, as tears started to fall from his face and almost instantly soaked into my clothing due to his face being buried in my chest. "Cole..", I cooed softly. The sight of my son clinging onto me like this while crying made my own tears, that were swelling up for the whole past days now, come out of my eyes. The happiness I felt of seeing my loved son again and keeping him close to me again after so long was more than just a wonderful feeling to me. Blending out everything around us, I memorized everything carefully. In that moment all I cared about was him. Even though I knew it wouldn't always be like this, I could only feel the comfort in keeping my boy close.

But as it is, not everything was supposed to have a happy ending. The luck is not always on your side. It runs out. I just would have never guessed that my luck would run out so soon again. Only one year later. One fucking year after this nightmare. A car crash. Just one mistake from a stranger. One second. Just one moment. And it should all be over in the blink of an eye, sending me back into the darkest places of my mind. That's what the future had planned for me. And there was nothing I could do about it. ➥ 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 7th November 2038, 1:19am, Riverside Park I breathed out heavily feeling somewhat relieved of getting this off my chest. As soon as I finished speaking, the cold winter air hit me once again, leaving me unfazed. "That's how my son was saved the first time but he.." I stopped talking due to the discomfort I felt when speaking about it, so I just stared at the view in front of me - Detroit glowing bright at night while the water reflected the lights on its surface. I took another sip from my beer before looking down at the bench I was sitting on, replaying everything that has happened back then in my head yet again. "I'm here now, hank." I was quick to look up at the sudden but calm voice talking to me, seeing Connor standing next to me with what seemed to be sympathy in his eyes as the wind hit my face more lightly once more. I looked at him for a while, only now noticing the similarities he had to Cole in his presence. I carefully started memorizing everything about him, like I did with Cole back at the old Warehouse and as if it was the last time I'd ever see his face again. But in reality I was actually finding a little bit of my own peace in him. Now replaying all of the moments I had with the detective android instead of the horrible events from the past years. We both stayed silent before I sighed out again, this time more relieved and with a slight smile on my face. We then turned our attention back at the beautiful view of Detroit, but now something was different than just a moment ago. It was much fuller with life and the silence wasn't as heavy as it was before. Maybe Connor was right after all. Maybe it was actually worth living for others. Maybe there's more to life than just what you've lost. Maybe I can believe in myself again and maybe he was the one who was able to change my way of seeing things in life. The first time for years now my thoughts were calm again, as I kept replaying the soothing words from the android in my mind. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 9 months ago

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love at first interrogation

pairing: norman jayden x ethan mars

cw: addiction, oral sex, infidelity

summary: they fall in love (plus a few bumps along the way)

a/n: again, sorry, i gotta crosspost stuff bc i want to <3 anyway, play heavy rain (pls, for me 🥹)

cw: 8.4k

October/November 2011

The Origami Killer case went well by the FBI's metrics. Norman got a promotion that came with a raise and a larger office. What more could he ask for? The kid survived. Norman had given him CPR and was the hero of the story, getting interviews and thank you's from people he'd never met. This was a novelty.

But Tripto was still there. The fact that Tripto and ARI were his partners on the most monumental case in his career did not encourage him to stop, and Norman knew that he needed to stop using both. Tripto wasn’t difficult to kick at first - he flushed the last vial in the mensroom of the Philly PD, and for a while, that was it.

ARI was harder to kick, but necessary. He used it for work and for pleasure, but other than sleep, most, if not all, activities can be broken into the categories of work and pleasure. Things that suck are work, things that are fun are pleasure.

Though, getting sucked off would be classified as pleasure .

Norman had to wean himself off ARI slowly. Initially, it would be for work only, but then work plus ARI equaled twice the headache and he wasn't going to let himself use Tripto to take the edge off anymore. Things got harder when his workload got heavier.

More work equals more suck, and less getting sucked.

Besides throwing himself headfirst into his work, which was his knee jerk coping mechanism, he started reading more, cooking instead of getting takeout, and remembering movies. Norman had always watched movies, but with a drug-addled brain, preoccupied by technology, he couldn't absorb anything besides the color scheme and the general aura that a movie gave off.

Everything was memorable for better or for worse. Days stopped blending together. He bought a calendar with a different picture of an Italian city for each new month where he could tick off every day that passed, like he was giving himself a gold star for surviving.

Coming to grips with the loneliness and isolation that he trapped himself within was much less satisfying. His apartment was not minimalist, it was undecorated, under furnished, unsuitable for guests.

His second bedroom was a place to fold the laundry. He left unmatched socks on the bed because he could. Norman didn't feel like a guest in his home, per se, but more like a passerby. He came and went. It was a layover between one workday and the next. If he slept in his own office, he could save time, but for what purpose? His apartment was a change of scenery.

December 2011

He was barely hanging onto his sanity by December.

In December, four months after the Origami Killer's case was "officially" closed - as always, there were still loose ends leading to other cases on the periphery that continued to drag on - Norman got a call from Ethan Mars. The last time he saw Ethan there were prison bars between the two of them.

“Are you doing anything around Christmas?”

“Uh…no, why?”

For Norman, Christmas was the most depressing time of the year. Norman had decided religion wasn’t for him the day he found out that God sends gays to Hell. And since he’d come out to his parents, he hadn’t gone home for the holidays. He used to have Jack, which made Christmas worth celebrating. After Jack’s death, there wasn’t anything to celebrate.

“We’re having a Christmas party and I - we - wanted to invite you.”

Well, shit - now, he’d admitted to being free during the holidays, so it’s not like he could say no. Plus, he had vacation days - and cash from the raise he’d gotten - piling up.

“I think I might be able to make it.”

“Great. I’ll text you the details.”

The Christmas party went over better than expected. Norman didn’t typically go to parties because he wasn’t really a social person.

He showed up to the Mars family’s home “fashionably late” - the time of arrival having been perfectly calculated in advance because Norman was never late… unless he wanted to be. Grace Mars was the one to answer the door and Norman realized what Ethan meant by “we”. He handed her the bottle of wine he’d brought because flowers weren’t really in season.

Grace responded as is socially expected with a “you shouldn’t have”, pulling him into a friendly side-hug.

To Norman’s surprise, Shaun came over and hugged him, too. After the initial shock of the situation, Norman breathed the biggest sigh of relief.

He’s alive.

The hug came with a “thank you for saving me”, to which Norman responded, “Don’t mention it.” Norman had failed so many times that being somebody’s hero just didn’t feel like an honor he didn’t deserve.

The only awkward part of the night was his conversation with Madison Paige, the journalist and Ethan’s new girlfriend, which was a brief one.

“I mean, how did you do it? Administering CPR and fighting off the Origami Killer all by yourself?”

It felt somewhere between an interview and flirting. He did not want to engage in either with Madison.

“I was just doing my job.”

“No one else in the Philly PD was doing theirs, then, because you were the only one there to save Shaun.”

It was hard not to tell her that she was actually right about that part.

“I have a lot of experience working in homicide cases, so I had a leg up.”

That was only partially the truth. He had worked on plenty of homicide cases, but he wasn’t able to save anyone else.

“Don’t be so modest,” Madison said, putting a hand on his arm.

It felt weird to have a woman touch him, and not just because it was a rarity.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

She didn’t argue, but with a light squeeze on his bicep, she said, “This suit looks great on you.”

“It’s just a regular suit. I have to dress like this for my job, so-”

Ethan came over and Madison conveniently removed her hand from Norman’s arm.

Ethan was Norman’s savior tonight.

“Hey, you made it,” Ethan said with a grin on his face that Norman had yet to see, pulling him into a full hug, which was more surprising than the one Shaun gave him. It was sweet, though. Norman gave him a friendly pat on the back and tried to hide the redness in his cheeks. Ethan smelled nice. His cologne or aftershave was probably expensive.

Ethan dragged Norman over to the kitchen to make him a drink. As it turned out, Ethan was a bit of a mixologist, who whipped up something similar to a Manhattan, but a little fancier - a little tastier.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” Norman asked.

“Grace gets those home magazines that have recipes in them.”

Does Ethan still live here? Norman has not had enough alcohol to inhibit his social awareness enough to ask that, not yet.

The night went by smoothly, and the drinks went down just the same. People started to leave around 9 or 10 because Shaun had to be put to bed. Ethan convinced Norman to stay a little longer, though, since he was from out of town.

Grace went to bed and Madison left, and Norman was glad because although they seemed civil, there was no way they wanted to hang out with each other. It didn’t take a profiler to know that the ex-wife and the new girlfriend were not friends.

“So, you and Madison?”

Norman wasn’t a gossip, but it felt like prerequisite knowledge to any other questions about Ethan’s life.

“Yeah, we’ve been together since she helped me during the, uh, case.”

“Are you making a confession here?”

“Shit - she’s not gonna get in trouble for me saying that, right?” Norman saw genuine worry in Ethan's eyes. It would've been funny if it was truly just Ethan's naivete about how the law works - not that the cops are good, but that the cops don't tend to do unnecessary work, sometimes even necessary work . But Ethan's concern was surely a product of his own experience, which Norman still felt a bit guilty about.

“No, don’t worry about that.” The amount of conduct violations - admittedly, some done by him - that had already been committed during was high enough that not turning her in was just less paperwork to do.

“Oh, thank god. I wouldn't want her to get in trouble because of me."

“Ethan, you're innocent. Case closed." Norman paused and then added, "Plus, I already knew about her involvement."

And turning Madison in for helping Ethan would be hypocritical.

“You already know that? How?”

“It’s classified,” Norman said with a smile that hopefully didn’t look too flirtatious.

In all honesty, it wasn’t classified, but he didn’t want to rehash the whole thing.

“I assume flattery and bribery don’t work on you?”

What’s the bribe, Ethan?

“Generally, no.”

Over the course of the night, they both caught up on each other’s lives - in some ways, learning about each other for the first time because as much as Norman had studied Ethan, he only knew him as a suspect, not as a friend.

Norman did not bring up his addiction because it was over, right? No need to tell Ethan and bring down the mood. His life was fine, albeit boring compared to Ethan’s life, consisting of a new house, a new girlfriend, and his son - who lived , and that’s what mattered most.

Norman sobered up a lot before going home, but still called a cab back to the hotel to be safe. He cared about his own life.

January 1, 2012

Christmas quickly became New Years.

Norman barely knew anyone at the party, and it felt like everyone was watching him. Not in the way that people gawk at celebrities, but in the way they crane their necks towards train wrecks. Norman and Ethan were standing close enough that either of them could lean in and kiss the other and call it a drunken mistake, clumsiness, a case of mistaken identity. If someone else caught them, one of them could throw the other under the bus.

Maybe it was just the alcohol, but time started to move at a different rate and Norman was not really focusing on what he was supposed to be talking about because he was looking at Ethan's lips around the lip of the beer bottle he was drinking from. It felt like he had just gotten there, but the countdown was starting, bringing him back to reality. He looked over to the TV to see two C-list celebrities who looked vaguely familiar standing in Times Square counting down from 10. Everyone in the room began to chant along with them.

Except for Ethan whose voice summoned Norman to turn around. There were 4 seconds left when Ethan said, "It's a tradition, right?". And Norman knew what Ethan meant, so he nodded and took a last swig of beer.

When the countdown got down to the last second Ethan and Norman were standing even closer than before, so close that their lips were almost touching. "Happy New Year," Norman tried to say, but was cut off by Ethan's lips, and he probably should've pulled away, but instead he closed his eyes and pulled him closer.

Norman hoped that he put the bottle in his hand down on the countertop because otherwise, there was broken glass and beer on the floor - he certainly wasn't holding it anymore. Both of his hands were touching Ethan.

Thank God Madison was somewhere else. Probably kissing someone else at some other party. Norman wasn't just jealous that Madison had Ethan, but angry that she didn't appreciate him.

Ethan's tongue was teasing Norman's lips and Norman would not refuse - all of his willpower was being used to prevent himself from clawing at Ethan's dress shirt, desperately trying to undress him in public. Like most people left at the party, they were making out, breathing heavily into each other's mouths. Norman - an atheist until this moment - prayed that his suit jacket was enough to hide his hard-on.

It was definitely past the point of "it's-just-a-tradition" kissing, and Norman was envisioning every parallel universe in which they were not at this party, surrounded by potential witnesses, every universe where Ethan is not straight - if either of them were being honest, there is no way that Ethan is straight in this universe, either. In these other universes, the luckier versions of them are fumbling up the stairs of someone's apartment, and in a few, they are still making out in the parking lot and barely make it to the car before they're both undressed. There are universes in which one or both of them are wealthy and they are in the elevator of the Ritz Carlton on their way to their hotel room that they've rented for the night.

But, in this universe, Ethan will go home with Madison, and sleep a little further from her in the bed. Norman will go home alone, and won't sleep at all. That will happen when one of them is brave enough to break the kiss, just not yet.

New Years was one day out of thousands that Norman had lived, but it was the only one he cared about. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, even when he was back in D.C.

So, when Ethan called and asked him to come over again, it was the easiest “yes” of his life.

Norman almost hung up the phone with an "I love you" before the "goodbye", but thank god he stopped himself. Ethan texted him all the details, while Norman tried to slap himself awake.

But it was hard to wake up when his life became a fucking dream.

February 2012

Ethan and Norman spent most of Friday night on Ethan's balcony, standing a friendly distance apart, each holding a beer. Alcohol relaxed the brain, finally allowing them both to get out of their endless internal spirals - that was one thing they had in common: psychological self-torture. The cold bottle in his hand kept Norman from fidgeting and engaged his senses enough to keep him from dissociating completely.

They did not acknowledge New Year's - it was better to leave it in the past than to risk vulnerability. And he couldn’t make eye contact with him. He had no idea who he’d see staring him back in the face - a friend or a lover?

And when they did, Ethan coughed in a transitional manner, clearly wanting to continue to avoid the tension surrounding the New Year’s incident. But Norman’s not one to act childish about these things.

“Listen, Ethan, we need to talk about New Year’s.”

“No, we don’t.”

What other reaction should he have expected?

Ethan grabbed Norman’s face and kissed him.

Not that one.

Tomorrow, they'd blame it on the alcohol, but if he had the courage, Norman would do it sober. It was like they owed each other for lost time. They paid off their debts with desperate kisses and hands, feeling for anything previously untouched, anything needy.

For a moment, guilt took hold of Norman's conscience.

This is worse than letting Ethan escape from police custody. That was a valiant act, saving an innocent father; whatever "this" is, it is full of guilt, indecency, sin - if that exists, and certainly not innocence.

But soon. Nothing mattered anymore, not the beer in his hand, not the balcony, not how absolutely fucking reckless this is. Definitely not how Ethan's girlfriend could come home at any moment . Selfishly, Norman didn't care about that possibility anyway.

Before Norman could think about any reason that they shouldn't, Ethan's lips were on his, every movement was urgent, and none were intentional. It was better that way. It was authentic, it was raw. Norman's hands were in Ethan's hair, pulling him closer, as close as possible. They were both panting, out of breath, but needed the kiss more than they needed oxygen. Norman was getting dizzy by the time Ethan kicked open the door and led Norman to the living room couch. It would've be a fucking miracle if they'd made it to the bedroom fully clothed, but there was no time for the divine - this was hedonistic, chasing some unknown pleasure, something in the taste of each other's tongues.

Both of their shirts were gone, somewhere on the floor between the living room and the door. Norman pushed Ethan onto the couch and climbed on top of him. Ethan's hands grabbed ahold of his waist, pulling him closer, bringing their lips back together. Ethan took Norman's bottom lip in his teeth and gently tugged on it, making Norman groan in response. His face flushed - he was not used to being so expressive. To resume control over the situation, Norman took a risk and stood up, watched disappointment and confusion flood Ethan's face -

Ethan looks like he might beg for it. For what? He doesn't even know yet .

Norman maintained eye contact while sinking to his knees. Ethan's eyes widened, and he bit his lip, but Norman could hear his breath hitch.

Norman placed one hand on each of Ethan's thighs, which were still inconveniently covered by denim. He spoke in a breathy tone, "D'you mind if I -?" Even though Norman was not the inexperienced one in this scenario - Norman had ample experience on his knees - his fingers were trembling. He had to make this right. It was not just about this - it was about Ethan, about Ethan and Norman.

This might be the determiner of whether that "and" exists .

Ethan nodded with pink cheeks replacing any hesitation. Norman's tipsy mind was a master of impulsive decisions based on overconfidence, but he knew the dexterity and precision it would require for him to be able to unzip Ethan's jeans with his teeth was much higher than what could offer right then. As much as every second that stood between Norman and Ethan's naked body ached, Norman knew that he would only embarrass himself by trying to pull any sort of advanced shit like that.

That's not to say that Ethan won't get the best head of his life - Norman planned to suck him dry right there in the living room.

While he fumbled with Ethan's belt, Norman felt a hand in his hair, stroking his head gently, and it felt like praise. In a coordinated motion, they managed to get Ethan's pants off.

Norman began with gentle touches and kisses downward. He wanted to make this last for Ethan, so his hand and mouth working in tandem were a teasing, tantalizing duo. Not tight enough, not fast enough, not wet enough to make him come just yet. If Norman wasn't madly in love with Ethan, he would have him begging for it right now.

But he liked Ethan too much to tease him for too long.

Norman was satisfied by his own performance when Ethan finished in what felt like five minutes. Ethan was expressive when he came - back arching, hands gripping the couch, trying so hard to be quiet and failing miserably.

When Norman pulled away - only after Ethan had fully ridden out his orgasm - they locked eyes. Ethan came out of a state of bliss and into a state of something between shock at what they had just done, and awe at Norman's skills.

" Holy shit ," was all he had to say.

Norman stood up and wiped his lips with his thumb; then, he stuck it in his mouth, licking away every last drop. He took the liberty of taking a sip of a glass of water that was left on the counter - hopefully Ethan's. He walked back over to the couch, unsure whether to be proud or embarrassed - he was the king of debauchery.

Ethan took him by the hand and pulled him onto his lap to give him a grateful kiss. When they stopped to catch their breaths, Ethan said, "I think I owe you."

"You don't owe me anythin'," Norman said with a gentle smile. "I did it because I wanted to, and I know - I think - you've never done that before, so I don't expect you to reciprocate." He stumbled over his words - it was an awkward subject, even after the events that had transpired.

"You’re right," Ethan said with his eyes still full of passion, "but I trust you." Somehow that meant more than "I love you", and it hit like a shockwave - causing him to short-circuit and then melt.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Norman was still in disbelief - he didn't deserve this, "It's not easy on the knees. I'll probably wake up with a few bruises."

"What will your cover story be?"

"Nothin' - I don't plan on gettin' naked in front of anyone."

"Not even me?" The glint in Ethan's eye - playful, yet so, so sure of this, was enough to convince Norman.

Even in the dim living room light, his cheeks were noticeably pink. "Maybe I could do that..." He said with a coy grin.

"How about we move this to the bedroom then, so my old man knees won't get bruised."

And so you won't have to tell Madison what happened.

Norman gladly accepted the invitation, and got up, collecting their clothes from the floor and passing them off to Ethan to deposit in a laundry basket on the way to the bedroom.

Being an adult equals two things: having sex and doing the laundry; for the most efficient, each of the two tasks could be conducted in the intermission of the other.

Ethan and Madison's bed had optimal room for two men and zero clothing.

And there was something particularly salacious about the fact that both of them could see Madison's accouterments scattered about the room. Spite enhanced arousal.

Ethan pushed Norman onto the bed, climbing atop him and kissing him fervently. Norman couldn't remember the last time he'd been wanted this badly. He groaned at the mental image of the imminent. Ethan's lips left Norman's mouth in search of what made him tick. He found it in the nape of Norman's neck, the spot behind his ear, and most evidently right around his hip bones. Norman's breath was heavy, his forehead was glistening with sweat. It would be embarrassing if he wasn't overwhelmed with desire.

When Ethan reached Norman's cock it was throbbing. The way Ethan grabbed it made it seem like he had done this before - in a way, he had, just not to anyone else. He gingerly kissed the tip, making it twitch. Norman inhaled and braced himself, grabbing the covers to stop himself from reaching for Ethan's head. He knew he was going to lose his self-control soon, and it was only the beginning.

Ethan stuck his tongue out, and licked a stripe from the base back up to the tip, looking at Norman dewy-eyed the whole time. Whether it was because he was nervous or because he intended to tease Norman, Ethan took just the tip between his lips.

But there was something about it that made Norman crazy. "Jesus Christ," he said through gritted teeth.

This prompted Ethan to take more of him, slowly, carefully, deliberately, taking one inch at a time. Norman had to close his eyes to save the shred of pride he had left. Because if he saw Ethan's cheeks hollowed out, tears threatening to run down them, it would be over for him.

It was like Ethan had studied for this, which is something you really can't do, no matter how much porn you watch. It just takes experience.

Norman was biting his fist to keep himself from quiet.

Not that anyone was home, but you can never be too careful.

He took his fist out of his mouth, causing drool to roll down his chin, to say, "I'm close." It was a warning. One that Ethan did not take. He had little time to regardless because Norman came hard, down Ethan's throat with a strangled moan. His entire body was trembling. The aftershocks coursed through him, making him convulse, then twitch, then lie there limp. Air re-entered his lungs, quelling the overwhelming dizziness that came with the euphoria that had taken over his body.

"Goddammit, Ethan!" Norman was impressed, but also a little jealous, "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

"From watching you." He said with a sly grin.

"Thank you," he exhaled, "for the compliment and the blowjob ."

There was a sound coming from the stairs, footsteps, high heels, Madison . Ethan and Norman locked eyes and exchanged a look of panic. Luckily for Ethan, he was already dressed, but Norman was still naked and did not have the mental faculties to locate his clothes, which had been lost somewhere on the way into bed. Ethan threw him a pair of pajama bottoms, which he put on, and a t-shirt that was clean enough.

In a moment of brilliance amongst the brain fog, Norman rolled onto his side and pretended to be asleep, hoping he could pass off his post-orgasm state for drunkenness. Ethan got the memo or was great at improvising.

Madison called, "Ethan."

"Yeah?" Ethan responded and opened the bedroom door to step out into the hallway, wiping his face of any physical or emotional evidence of his affair.

She walked towards him and said something that Norman couldn't quite make out, though it sounded like she might be intending to seduce Ethan.

"Why'd you pull away?" he heard her whine.

"You've been drinking. Haven't you?" Ethan gave her his fatherly tone.

"Yeah, but what does that matter?"

"I don't want to do something that you might regret in the morning."

"Just kiss me - just one more kiss. Please."

One more kiss ? Ethan, that bastard kissed her with his dirty mouth.

Norman would be in hysterics if he had any energy left at all. The "passed out act" was barely an act anymore. Madison bought their bullshit and slept on the couch, while Ethan "tended to Norman who didn't feel well".

Ethan was lying well enough to make Norman suspicious. Maybe he was the Origami Killer after all? Norman considered the ways he could interrogate him and what he could get him to confess. But that was for another day.

February 2012

Norman left town the next day. He’d already planned it that way. He can only take so many vacation days before the FBI tracks him down and drags him back to D.C. - plus, it’s easier this way. Norman can reject the idea of object permanence and pretend that since Ethan’s not in front of him, he doesn’t even exist and therefore, Norman doesn’t need to consider the fact that he might be feeling a little bit more than simple desire.

Normally, he would rely on Tripto and ARI to get him through, but he’d given up on both, so he had to find new ways to waste time. There are only so many movies to watch. The number once seemed infinite. But Norman realized that an awful lot of media is not very interesting when you consume it sober.

He picked back up exercise, reluctantly, because despite the fact that he was the least stubborn person in the Philly PD, he was much more stubborn than the average American. Everyone had tried to convince him that exercise would help his persistent depression and constant stress, and he was adamant that they were wrong.

Norman didn’t tell anyone when he partially conceded that exercise did help him get some sort of emotional release. It wasn’t a cure-all, though. It brought up his self-esteem, which was well-below average. Now, at least, he could handle more than a passing glance at himself in the mirror. But it wasn’t like anyone was going to see his physical transformation. He hadn’t been touched in any capacity since Ethan.

Norman didn’t need something else to get addicted to, so he took a rubber band from the junk drawer in his kitchen and kept it on his wrist, tucked behind his watch at work, so it wouldn’t become a topic of conversation. As an expert in psychology, he knew all about Pavlov and decided to try to create a negative association with Ethan. Every time he thought about calling Ethan, he would snap the rubber band hard on his wrist. This didn’t work at all. In fact, quite the opposite, he started getting a little turned on by the pain of the rubber band, so he stopped the Pavlovian experiment before it got any weirder.

Ethan called again. Norman waited a few rings before picking it up and took a deep breath in a futile attempt to compose himself.

“Hey, Norm,” Ethan’s cheerful tone that he’d come to know in the months post-origami, rang through the phone.

We’re doing nicknames now?

“Is that a Cheers reference?” Norman chuckled lightly.

“Huh?”

“You know, Cheers, the ‘80s sitcom?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen it.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Guess we’ll have to watch it next time you come over -”

Next time?

“Speaking of, are you busy next weekend?”

Norman tried not to say ‘no’ too quickly. It took no convincing to get Norman to come visit.

Never thought I’d wanna go back to Philly. .

March 2012

Next weekend couldn’t have come sooner.

Norman had gotten used to a loveless life due to a combination of self-isolation, social awkwardness, his parents' disapproval, and his polarizing deep need for justice in a criminal justice system that wasn't created for such a purpose, Norman hadn't felt love since Jack died.

So, feeling something for someone was terrifying. Remembering how he felt with Ethan - was the longing, after having made peace with solitude - worth the possibility of love?

Next weekend, things were good. Almost too good.

Ethan, thinking he’d have the house to himself since Madison was going away, invited Norman over, having forgotten, according to him - though Norman had no reason not to believe him, that he had Shaun that weekend.

It was better this way. Norman told himself. God is stepping in and saving us both - Ethan from cheating and him from getting too close to someone when things would inevitably end.

He was right. Having Shaun there was nice, but not for the reason he’d initially suspected.

Norman thought of himself as “not a kid person”. When his sister had her first child, he tried to keep an open mind, but a screaming baby and dirty diapers confirmed that he did not want to be a father

And he wasn’t. But hanging out with Ethan and Shaun, watching their father-son dynamic, was heart-warming.

Norman and his father never had this kind of relationship. Theirs was cold and distant. Maybe his father always knew he was gay. Norman couldn’t decide if that would make it better or worse.

They sat at the dinner table one night, eating some fancy exotic concoction because Ethan was a great cook as it turned out.

Dammit! Just another reason to like him.

Shaun turned to Norman and said, “You’re so cool, Agent Jayden.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You catch bad guys - you’re like a superhero.”

If only.

“Thanks, Shaun, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

April 2012

The second time Norman saved Shaun was much less dramatic than the first. Ethan was out buying groceries while Norman was inside catching up on some work - the FBI didn’t really believe in vacation time. Shaun had been playing outside - he had just turned 12 and was allowed to go out and play basketball with the other kids in the neighborhood without Ethan’s supervision.

Norman was sitting at the kitchen table when he heard crying. With FBI training, maybe even some innate paternal instinct, he jumped out of his seat and ran to the front hall to find Shaun with scraped up knees.

“Oh my god, Shaun, what happened?” Norman asked gently, surveying the damage.

It seemed likely that no stitches were needed.

“I was playing basketball and I tripped.”

“Do you know where your dad keeps the first aid kit?”

“In the bathroom.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Norman found the medicine cabinet stocked with various medical supplies. He would have to compliment Ethan on his preparedness later. He grabbed some bandages and rubbing alcohol as a disinfectant, as well as a wet washcloth, and rushed back downstairs.

Shaun was sitting on the living room couch.

In this situation, Norman could see his own father getting mad at him for hurting himself and his mother telling him not to get blood on the furniture.

“Sit still for me, okay?” Norman kneeled down to Shaun’s level and wiped the gravel off his knee.

Shaun nodded silently.

“This might sting a little bit, but I have to do it to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

Norman applied the rubbing alcohol as gently as possible, but Shaun still ended up in tears. He reached for Norman’s hand - the one that wasn’t on his knee - and grabbed it. Norman held his hand without question until he finished both knees and then bandaged them up.

“Can you not tell my dad that I cried?”

“It’s not a bad thing to cry, you know.”

“It’s embarrassing. The other kids made fun of me.”

“I’ve been there, kid. It sucks to be made fun of, but just remember, they’re probably insecure and that’s why they’re mean to others. They’re trying to cover up their own insecurity.”

“Did you ever get made fun of when you were my age?”

“All the time. It gets better as an adult.”

You still get shit from people like Blake, who still act like children.

“Does that mean someday I could be cool like you?”

“You’re already cooler than me.”

April 2012

Norman relished his time with Ethan when Madison was gone. He was determined to savor every moment, every kiss, all the little delicacies that one gets as a treat only on special occasions.

He wanted to take things slow, especially since they were hurried by their own eagerness the time before. Ethan, on the other hand, craved the rush that the novelty and shameless indulgence into what should be a guilty pleasure gave. More than that, he craved Norman.

He was going to tell Ethan to hold on, that he wanted this to last. But something overtook Norman, and he knew that the only way he could be satisfied was through Ethan's satisfaction. He needed to please Ethan. It was do or die. Norman, as an experienced investigator and sexual partner, knew how to make Ethan shiver. He had technique, experience, and a slutty level of dedication to the art.

So, the time between the first subtle, but knowing shared glance and Norman on his knees was short. It didn’t take long for Ethan to finish when he was looking at Norman’s glossy eyes the color of sea glass, silently pleading for praise and reassurance.

Norman shouldn’t have been surprised that Ethan wanted to return the favor and that it was good. It was good the last time. He had tried to pass it off as beginner’s luck - out of jealousy that one could be good at this without practice, but beginner's luck wasn't really a thing that could be applied to oral sex.

Or maybe he was just easy. Not since they’d put him on antidepressants, which could kill anyone’s sex drive. But somehow, Ethan was the cure for that side effect.

Sex wasn’t the only good thing between the two. Ethan wasn’t just a character in a wet dream to Norman.

Sure, prior to this, Norman wanted to live. That’s why he quit tripto. He still dealt with depression, but he didn’t want to die. There was still some sort of self-preservation left in him. For God knows what.

Then, Ethan came along. He was a different kind of reason - a reason to care about his current life, and by extension, about himself. Ethan's presence alone made him want to set a bedtime and an exercise routine. Initially, he thought it was aesthetic, trying to impress Ethan, but eventually, he realized that for once, he felt the need, no - the want, to stay alive.

May 2012

Norman’s life was good for the first time. Good doesn’t last forever, though.

It wasn’t just one thing that caused the relapse. Norman was getting poor performance reviews at work for the first time, so selfishly and idiotically, he called Ethan. Ethan usually was the one to reach out, but Norman figured it was time to make an effort.

Apparently, things were going well with Madison again because the two of them were having a romantic getaway for her birthday the next weekend, so Ethan was busy.

It was stupid to think of Ethan this way. He had a girlfriend, a woman he loved and could show off to the world. Norman was just a dirty secret. Maybe a friend sometimes.

It was just a blip in time. It probably won't be memorable for anyone else involved. Ethan and Shaun will move on with their lives and only he'll remember it all. Because it was important to him. But it's gone now. In this cheap motel room in downtown Philly, it's gone. If Norman makes it back to DC alive it'll be a miracle. That's what he should do, right? Go back to DC, beg for forgiveness there. Tell the FBI a lie he hasn't had a chance to come up with yet. His mind is too foggy. Triptocaine without ARI is just a feeling. There's nothing to see and nothing to do. It just feels like something for a while. And then like nothing once he's done too much and he builds up a tolerance to it. But nothing is better than pain. And pain is what happens when he tries to stop. His nose is gonna bleed anyway, so why not have fun with it? He'll barely notice if he gets high enough.

Maybe when he dies from this it'll be like the Earth was hit by an asteroid and one second his consciousness was there and the next second it was gone.

Tripto will kill him. He's sure of it. And he doesn't have anything to live for anymore, right? So who cares? As long as he can pay for the room he's in, which is not very expensive. The price to pay comes in the form of roaches and spiders - though, he's not entirely sure that they're not a hallucination.

It might be better that way.

It sounds like rain outside. If he had the energy to walk to the window and open the curtains, he'd know for sure. But, like most things, it remains a mystery for now.

Norman lies back on the bed, sighs, closes his eyes and hopes he can choose what he sees inside his mind. Even now, curled up on the motel room bed, writhing, trying to go without another dose for just one more minute, he could remember the feeling of Ethan’s hand on his.

God, it was so good for a while.

Life had to sabotage him. That's just the way life is - some people are just meant to be sad. Norman is one of those people. It was always going to end like this. Lying on the motel room bed, listening to the tap tap tap tap of the leaky bathroom sink, and thinking about Ethan.

Norman watched the Origami Killer fall to his death and get eaten by the trash compactor. The memory stuck. Triptocaine could not get rid of it. Norman went without a hit of Tripto for about a month after the incident. He spent his time being lauded as a hero and basking in his new promotion. Then it started to hurt again. Memories strung together. He found himself wandering through his partner's house and finding his lifeless body on the bed night after night. Then it wasn't just Jack - there were more and more bodies. His mind was decaying without the Triptocaine. He woke up in a cold sweat, shaking, and sometimes, when he'd get up and look in the mirror, he'd find dried blood that came from his nose.

At some point, the headaches got bad, the sweats came back out of nowhere. Advil, alcohol, taking a walk - none of it worked. It was either use Tripto or sit there and accept the pain. Norman kept a vial in his bedside drawer for emergencies and took it with him if he was vacationing. The first time he cracked it open it had been four months. He held the vial of blue powder in his hand and contemplated it. He thought about how bad the addiction got, how good Tripto feels, everything that happened with Jack, everything that happened to Jack, Jack is dead, how bad it feels that he's dead, how good Tripto feels. The cycle repeated itself until he was snorting it, blood dripped out of his nose. It wasn't death, he just wasn't used to the effects anymore. Low tolerance meant more side effects. Low tolerance meant he could get higher. Everything was fine for about an hour. Better than fine.

When the high started to wear off and Norman realized what the fuck he’d done, he felt everything all at once. Pain - physical and emotional, guilt, anger, sadness, and a certainty that now nothing could be good - because of him. He was the reason for all his own problems.

However, many minutes or hours later he was coughing up blood and calling someone on the phone. He just pressed call. He didn’t even know who or why. Considering he didn’t have much to live for or anyone to call anyway.

He only realized it was Ethan when he heard his voice.

“Hello?”

"Sorry for calling. I didn’t mean to. I just - I guess I don’t wanna die.”

“Whoa whoa whoa - die? Norman what the fuck is going on?” Ethan was whisper-yelling, like someone else was in the room with him.

“I shouldn’t have done this. Fuck! It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault? Where are you?”

Norman was losing consciousness.

“Hello?! Norman! Where are you?”

Norman must’ve told Ethan his location because he woke up on the motel room floor to Ethan trying to lift him up while holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder.

“I need an ambulance -”

“No, no, no! No ambulance. I’m fine.”

Ethan gave the operator their location, which was the right thing to do, and even though Norman wasn’t happy in the moment, he was later, when he woke up in the hospital.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake.”

It was Ethan. By his bedside.

“What?”

It was more of a “why” as in “why are you here?”

“I thought you were gonna die.”

"It probably would’ve been better that way.”

He didn’t meet Ethan’s eyes, but he could feel them staring.

“Did you just say it would be better if you died?”

“Yeah,” Norman made a gesture to convey that it should be obvious."I’m an inconvenience to everyone around me.”

“Not to me.”

“Especially to you.” Norman turned to look at Ethan.“You’re in the ER with me. That’s the ultimate inconvenience.”

“If you found me bleeding on the floor, would you come to the ER?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Exactly. Because you care about me. Just like I care about you.”

“Well, you should stop caring about me.”

“No.”

Ethan crossed his arms and gave Norman a stare that said he was not conceding.

“If you really care about me, then why can’t you let me make my own choices, do what I want?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Norman didn’t mean to raise his voice, but it came out like that.

“Then why won’t you let me care about you?”

Norman just sat there in silence. Not only because Ethan was practically yelling at this point, but also because he really didn’t have anything else left to say. Ethan played the ultimate card.

Norman sighed and tried not to cry.

“It’s okay to cry.”

He turned to Ethan who also had tears in his eyes. Ethan leaned down to hug him, calling a truce.

Then, Ethan leaned in to kiss Norman. Initially, he accepted - blame it on his dizzy head - but then he pulled back.

“Don’t do this to Madison.”

Not that Norman particularly cared about Madison, but he cared about whatever - and whoever - Ethan liked.

“I broke up with her.”

“What? Why?”

“She said I shouldn’t come here.”

Norman was about to say, “See?” when Ethan cut him off, “Don’t. I can make my own choices.”

Norman held up his hands in surrender.

“I’m glad, actually, she really showed her true colors. Doesn’t care about anyone other than herself. I can’t believe I brushed off what she said about Shaun.”

“What did she say about Shaun?!” Norman was no longer on her side.

“She was talking about wanting to have a baby with me, and I said that I wasn’t sure I wanted another kid. I already have one - had two.”

There was a pause, acknowledging the part that didn’t need to be said.

“She said it wouldn’t be the same thing. That she wanted her own kid. That I would be happy that way, too. That I should leave Shaun with Grace. She said it would help me with ‘my trauma from this incident’.”

“Bullshit excuse.”

“I know.”

“I normally would never say this about a woman, but she’s a bitch. I can’t believe she’d say something like that about Shaun.”

“She was never very good with him anyway. They never really got along - not like you two do.”

“He’s easy to get along with.” Norman smiled and then followed it up with, “He gets it from his dad.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

Norman feigned innocence. “Just trying to break the tension.”

Ethan gave him a stern look that eventually broke into a bashful grin.

“She didn’t deserve you.”

“And to think - I thought she was outta my league.”

“Pssh - you’re way more attractive than she is.”

“Seems like you’re doing better.”

“Now that you’re here.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, but his pink cheeks betrayed him.

Ha! Still got it.

June 2012

Norman was doing well. He flushed the last vial of Tripto down the toilet at Ethan’s house, so that Ethan could verify. Physically, things were worse at first - he had the shakes, the sweats, the shivers - you name it, Norman felt it. But, then it got easier, the symptoms lightened up. Tripto wasn't constantly in the back of his mind, especially when he was with Ethan. Ethan made him feel better than Tripto ever could.

They had to tell Shaun at some point. It was always going to come up. The conversation ended up being less awkward than expected.

Shaun had caught the two of them kissing. It was nothing pornographic, just a peck on the lips, but it still felt a little embarrassing.

Norman excused himself from the room to get a glass of water, hoping this could just be a father-son talk.

Dinner was ready within the hour, and Norman wasn’t going to be an asshole and skip dinner. Plus, Ethan’s cooking was too good to miss out on.

So, Norman sat there with his hands in his lap like he was in a job interview, awkward smile and all, while Ethan went full dad-mode.

Allowing Shaun to just ask questions turned out to be the right approach.

“Does this mean you’re gay, dad?”

“Uh, well, I think that some people don’t have a gender preference. Would it be bad if I were gay?”

“No. One of the kids in my class has two dads, and they’re both gay.”

Then Shaun turned to Norman and asked, “Does this mean you’re gay, Agent Jayden?”

Norman almost choked on his water, not because it was a particularly shocking question - at least, it shouldn’t have been given the topic of conversation.

“Sorry if that’s a stupid question.”

In a way, he would’ve assumed it was, but Norman forgot that not everyone knew that about him.

He felt bad for laughing, so once he was done coughing, he said, “Sorry for laughing. It’s not a stupid question. I just didn’t expect it. Yes, I am.”

“Does that mean you’re boyfriend and boyfriend?”

They hadn’t really established that yet.

Ethan grabbed Norman’s hand and said confidently, “Yeah, I think it does.”

And Norman didn’t even have a chance to object. Not that he would have.

Now that Madison was gone, the newly official couple, thanks to Shaun, who had no idea what he’d facilitated - could be affectionate. Even to a certain extent around Shaun because no one needs to see their dad kissing anyone. But when Ethan and Norman are alone at night, and they are a lot after Norman moves in.

He was planning on getting a new job anyway, so when the opportunity arose, it was an easy choice. The FBI had only ever taken, not given.

Ethan was the opposite.

Ethan's first "I love you" to Norman wasn't a spoken one, as "I love you's" rarely are. He wrote love letters in forehead kisses, packed lunches, and gentle, reassuring squeezes of his hand through all of life's anxieties. They were both so different, but one thing they had in common was how hard they both loved - it was the type of love that seemed almost impossible, dangerous, reckless, unstoppable, terrifying and glorious love.

July 2012

On one entirely typical night, when Norman gets bored of whatever TV show they’re watching and leans over to kiss Ethan, Ethan is allowed to kiss him back without hesitation. No one has to pull away and pretend to be sorry about it.

When they do pull away, Norman puts his arm around Ethan.

Knowing Norman isn’t the one to normally initiate affectionate touches, Ethan asks, “What’s up, Norman? Is there some sort of confession or apology I should be waiting for?”

“I’m not Madison.”

Norman hoped the joke would go over well and it did.

“Thank god,” Ethan muttered.

“I was just hoping I could convince you to change the channel,” Norman admitted.

“You don’t like this show?”

“I’ll level with you here, Ethan. I will offer you something very special in return, if you change the channel.”

“I thought a member of law enforcement would be against such bribery,” Ethan mockingly chided him.

“What can I say? I’m a corrupt cop.”

“Always have been.”

“You bring out the worst in me.”

They locked eyes and smiled, knowing that was the biggest lie of all time.

#heavy rain #norman jayden #ethan mars #miss oranje fics