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ken-dom · 1 year ago

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Alone Together

Sierra Six x gn!reader

2.4k words

∘₊✧ Summary: you take Six to the carnival for your first date, hoping he’ll relax a little

∘₊✧ Author’s notes: this was written for @heresthestorymorningglory’s birthday! Thanks for being my best goose, I hope you have an excellent day when it eventually rolls around 💖 (we were too excited to wait to post our birthday fics). It was SO hard writing Six without sending it to her to check it was Sixy enough!! If you haven’t read her Six, thoroughly recommend.

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: fluff, first date, kissing, mild peril?!, mention of clowns

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Six’s arm is secure around your shoulders, almost swallowing you up in his embrace as he keeps you close.

And keeps you safe, of course. Even during his rare downtime, Six was on high alert. You’d never seen someone play a ring toss challenge with such laser focussed eyes and tensed shoulders before, but he got every single one, winning you a red love heart shaped balloon that bobbed along above you as you strolled through the fairground.

It was cute of him to choose the balloon over an annoyingly large stuffed toy, but you know it was partly (mostly) so that if he lost sight of you, you’d be easier to locate in the crowd should anything go wrong. But, really, what did it matter? You’d never felt safer than when you were with him, and your first date is shaping up to be just about perfect; except that you haven’t stopped to eat yet.

The aromas of deep fried doughnuts and roasting onions make your mouth water as you move through the fair, and you fully intend to drag him off for a hot dog or fries when you see a ring the bell game and stop in your tracks, considering it.

Six looks down, seeing your eyes light up, and smiles. But he feels you sigh as you glance at the arm around your shoulders and look back in the direction of the food stalls, forgetting it.

‘Hey, let’s have a go?’ he encourages, lightly squeezing his arm around you.

You huff, amused. ‘Are you kidding?’

‘No.’

‘Nah, it’s huge. And you’re huge!’ You squeeze his bicep. ‘Far too easy, and where’s the fun in that for either of us?’

Six takes a deep, even breath, slowly sliding his arm from around your shoulders as he thinks on it. ‘How about we make it interesting?’

You raise an eyebrow in his direction and he remains apparently unfazed, with both his hands free he pops a Skittle or two into his mouth, chewing leisurely. There’s no urgency in him at all and you realise he’s started to relax. Just a little.

‘If you ring the bell before I do, you choose what we do for the rest of the night.’

‘I fully planned to do that anyway,’ you smirk playfully.

‘Even the haunted house,’ he offers with a tilt of his head, as though it’s a very attractive deal.

‘Oh? Scared?’

‘Terrified,’ he quips, tossing another Skittle onto his tongue and sucking for a second before giving in and crunching the sugary shell.

‘Whatever, you just want to show off,’ you wink.

Six grunts, shoving the candy bag back into his pocket, and confidently strides over to swap a five dollar bill for the mallet, assuming the position.

He swings the mallet down to the base with such force that you’re sure will send the little red puck right up to the top of the ten foot pole and send a triumphant ring through the fairground.

But, somehow, he misses. Spectacularly.

The second time, the mallet conveniently – and comically – slips out of his hand before he swings it, and falls to the ground behind him.

He tilts his head in defeat, a wry smile pulling at his lips.

You glare back, annoyed that he’s doing this to let you win. There’s no way Six, with all his precision and skill can’t manage to wield a simple carnival mallet.

The third time he brings the mallet down, the puck shoots up to just an inch below the bell and drops back to the bottom again without a win. There’s that precision.

With sparkling eyes, he catches your gaze and mutters, ‘Too distracted, I guess. Your turn.’

You narrowed your eyes at him as he leant against the side of the nearest trailer, folding his arms over his chest and trying to appear casual.

You grip the mallet, squeezing your fingers around the handle to brace yourself, and bring it down hard. The little puck shoots up, and you don’t reach the bell, but you’re so close you could kick yourself.

With much less effort this time, you do it, and the bell rings loud and proud through the chatter and music, and you were offered a range of ridiculously large stuffed animals to choose from and take away with you.

Six stayed propped against the trailer, smirking again but blatantly this time, as you picked out a huge panther plushie.

‘That one. Reminds me of him,’ you smile, throwing it immediately over to Six.

He catches it easily. It looks so much smaller in his hands and you laugh at the frown he reveals as he lowers it.

‘That thing’s yours now. You’ll need to name him.’

‘No thank you,’ Six retorted, holding it back out toward you.

‘I rang the bell, I make the decisions, remember?’

Six’s jaw clenched as he stared at you.

‘Fine. Bruce,’ he eventually grunts, reluctantly sliding the thing under one arm as you slide your arm into the other.

‘You let me win, Six. You’re not getting away with it that easy.’

‘You didn’t want to win?’ he smarms.

‘Of course I did. I just didn’t want you to pretend to lose for my benefit.’

Six sighs resignedly. ‘Hungry?’ he suggests, hoping you can forget about the stupid ring the bell game over a bag of sugary doughnuts together, but an idea lights up in your eyes and you drag him away in the opposite direction.

You pass the stunt cage and watch a peroxide blonde mount a motorcycle, making a mental note to return to here later and catch the next show. But for now, you had other ideas.

‘You mentioned the haunted house?’

Six’s brow furrows again.

‘Oh, impatient are we? I apparently had to win a biassed game to get what I wanted, so I’ll take it at my leisure, thank you.’

Six rolls his eyes and drops back in defeat, leaving you free to stop off at the sweet stall for a big cloud of blue cotton candy on the way.

He watches you as you excitedly point to what you want, still clutching your balloon as he clutches Bruce. He’s in awe at the way you move, the way you laugh with the vendor as though you’ve known her your entire life, the glee on your face as you return to him with the ball of pure sugar.

You reach up to pop a handful into his mouth, fingertips brushing briefly against his bottom lip. He almost lets out a hum at how your gentle touch tingled, but manages to stop it before it erupts.

‘How’s it taste?’ you ask innocently, tearing off a chunk of blue for yourself.

Six blinks away, inclined to answer with something like Not as good as I bet you do, but worried it would be too much. So he stayed silent as you shared the rest of the floss with him.

‘Will that keep you going?’ you ask teasingly, not waiting for an answer. ‘Haunted house next!’

You grab his hand to pull him toward the attraction, your knees weakening slightly as you feel how big it is against yours. You’ve noticed the size of his hands before; big, warm looking palms and long, surprisingly elegant fingers.

‘I’ve never actually been in one,’ you admit excitedly as you stop by the little ticket office to admire it in all its stereotypical horror film beauty. ‘But I’ve always wanted to. I love a bit of a spook!’

Six takes care of the tickets and follows your lead. You step inside and drop his hand as you venture first. A skeleton pops out to wave and you laugh, but then there's a second, unexpected skeleton, and you jump, grabbing his hand again.

Six’s cheeks turn hot at how you find safety in him, but you can’t see the blush colouring his cheeks in the gloom of the spooky corridors. He’s thankful for that.

You move closer when the winding path through the house grows darker, sickly smelling smoke making it hard to see very far ahead of you, and eventually you’re so close to Six that his breathing catches in his throat.

The haunted house doesn’t phase him one bit; he predicts almost every movement before it occurs and has absolutely no fear of the dead and creepy; it’s an occupational hazard that he’s much more concerned with the living and creepy. But having you cling to his arm feels nice somehow. It makes him feel safe and wanted, which is new, and surprisingly pleasant. He doesn’t want you to let go and hopes there's a while before this comes to an end.

A group of ghosts sweeps past and you giggle, but the bizarre gust of wind that accompanies them chills you to the bone. Before you can quite recover, a clown appears right in your path, and you jump enough for Six to automatically pull you closer. Feeling you tremble with the after effects of your surprise, he quickly seeks out a particularly dark, undisturbed corner and tugs you toward it, setting you in front of him so you’re facing away from whatever else is going on in the haunted house for a moment.

‘Hey, you doing ok?’ He sounds lighthearted, but you can tell he’s forcing it, concern lacing his tone.

‘Yeah! Yeah, it’s fun, it’s just…’ you trail off.

‘A little jumpy,’ he nods, as though he agrees, but you know he isn’t phased.

As your eyes adjust in the darkness, they find his piercing blue gaze intense on yours and your heart races a little faster.

‘Need a break?’ he whispers huskily..

You can only nod. The thrill of being scared out of your wits is all part of the fun for you, but being so close to Six after the adrenaline rush, alone together in the dark, renders you speechless. You’ve been drawing closer by the second and now you’re mere inches from his face, can feel his warm breath on your cheek, smell his peppery cologne. Bruce nudges you in the chest and six drops him.

You can’t recall how it started, you just know that your lips were trembling one moment, and pressed to Six’s the next. His muscular arms snake around your waist as his strong hands glide up your back, pulling you flush to his chest and finally letting out that hum he tried to suppress when your finger grazed his bottom lip earlier. It vibrates against you and you think this might be as close to reckless abandon as Six might get and smile against his mouth.

You feel his tongue, hot and wet, trace the join of your lips and you instantly part them, eagerly inviting his tongue to slide against yours. It’s languid and needy, and the taste of the cotton candy you’d shared hits you first. It tastes different on his tongue than yours — more blue somehow — and then the artificial sugary fruit of the Skittles he’d been periodically chewing on all night follows. It’s sickly sweet, but so him you can’t help but find it delicious.

The groans and cackles and clanks of the haunted house fade into nothingness behind you, and it’s just him. Just Six, and you, hidden away. Secure and yet adventurous, safe and exciting. Your grip on the balloon he’d won you loosens and it floats up to the ceiling, somewhere in the dark, ready to be discovered when the carnival moves on.

He shifts a little, suddenly impatient, and deepens the kiss with a quiet moan that sends butterflies soaring in your stomach, and when the fingers tenderly rubbing at the nape of your neck slide up into your hair and scrape against your scalp you all but swoon, thankful he has you pinned against his chiselled frame within those thick arms to keep you upright.

The kiss slows to a stop, and Six pulls back for breath, sighing almost dreamily. He’s smiling at you, but it’s not playful or jokey this time. It’s warm and soft, and unlike any expression you’ve seen on his features before.

‘Better?’ he breathes, already fumbling in his pocket to retrieve yet another Skittle and drop it into his mouth.

‘Much,’ you smile back.

He drops his gaze, coy, and nods. ‘I’m excellent at distraction techniques.’ And with that, his mischievous sparkle is back. ‘Now can we please get some food? Skittles will only sustain me for a few days.’

You roll your eyes spiritedly, and one corner of his mouth twitches, pleased he’s calmed you enough to be mock-exasperated with him.

Six holds an elbow up as an offer for you to tuck yourself under his arm again, and you accept, pulling his forearm up gently to cover your eyes. As cute as the ghosts and skeletons had been, that final clown jump scare just about finished you off.

After collecting discarded Bruce, he carefully guides you back out into the bustle and bright lights of the fair, the familiar melodies of carnival music and the sizzle of the nearby hot dog stall flooding your senses again, and you pull his arm away from your eyes.

‘Thank you,’ you mouth, reaching up to stroke his cheek with a tender caress.

His eyes slide shut and he leans into your touch for just a moment, but he’s quick to snap his gaze back to his surroundings again. Force of habit, you supposed.

You drop your hand and look around too, getting your bearings. ‘So what can I get you? My treat.’

His gaze is already trained on the doughnut stand before you finish the sentence. Laughing, you nod and head over without waiting for his confirmation, bringing him back a bag of four deliciously golden doughnuts dusted in thick sugar.

Six eyes you suspiciously as you hand over the little paper bag. ‘I didn’t give you my order.’

‘Didn’t need to; I saw you eyeing them. To be honest, even if I didn’t, I could’ve guessed.’

Six, paused with a doughnut half way to his mouth, raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

‘Six. Come on. You taste like sugar.’

Six blushes deeply. He’d never considered how he might taste. He felt exposed, but in a good way? He wasn’t sure how to explain it. You see it this time, and smile inwardly.

‘What, you want my fries instead?’

‘No, no, I’m good,’ he protests, taking a bite big enough to tear the first doughnut clean in half and mumbling through a full, sugary mouth, ‘thank you.’

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