#T who is always unlucky in love always falling for people who jerk him around

[wakingfromthewater]

Getting these characters together because I felt horrible about what i had done to one of them and was like "Hey, they're both single!" was the best idea I've had in a long time. I started out wondering how TF that would work and ended up absolutely falling in love with them.

[tg-headcanons]

Nsfw alphabet with naki?

HORNY HOURS WITH IDIOT (affectionate)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he’s never quite sure what to do right when it’s over and will probably just wait for his partner to do something. He’ll follow their lead for the most part, but what he really wants is praise and cuddles. He’s one of those ghouls who really needs the post sex cuddle sessions to avoid the emotional drop

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): on himself he likes his teeth, on his partner he doesn’t like anything in particular. He’s demisexual and when he is attracted to someone sexually he doesn’t really break down what specific things he likes into parts. He’s content to just like their body as a whole

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he needs his partner to be patient with him since he doesn’t come very easily. It takes him awhile to get there and he can’t finish without his kakuhou being touched, some ghouls are just built like that but he’s a little embarrassed by it

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): though he’s more used to quick and careless rough stuff, what he really wants is to be pampered. Tell him he’s pretty, touch him gently, fuck him or ride him. Let him lay back and be taken care of, let him know that he deserves it. He’s a pillow prince at heart

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he has experience, but it isn’t all good. In the past he’s had partners ranging from distant and pushy to downright cruel. Some have been alright, he’s hooked up with people like Miza and Hooguro and really liked it, but others weren’t as kind. Plenty of people have slept with him without caring if he enjoys it, plenty have fucked him through his heat and left him to deal with the emotional drop alone, and Jason in particular was among the worst when it came to downright brutal sex. Naki wants people to give him affection and attention, but sadly Aogiri isn’t the best place to find safe and respectful partners. By now he thinks of sex as something that’s usually painful but can earn him some praise. His partner will need to be very gentle and soft with him at first, he needs to learn that he can set boundaries and that his pleasure is just as important as theirs

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): if he’s bottoming he likes missionary, He’s used to being bent over things in any abandoned building or broken into house he and past partners could find and unceremoniously fucked so being able to look his partner in the eyes and kiss them is amazing. When topping he likes doggy, he hasn’t had much of a chance to be dominant before, and he really likes the feeling of control from time to time

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he’s not going to joke around, and if his partner is joking he probably won’t notice

H = Heat (what are heats like for them? How do they handle it?): some ghouls get lucky and have brief, mild heats, and others get very unlucky. Naki is among the ladder. They’re absolutely horrible, he was unfortunate enough to end up with a heat hormonal disorder and no way to treat it so he suffers with them. They last a whole week, he has horrible cramps, fevers, nausea, unrelenting muscle weakness and insomnia. In the past he’s handled them by trying to find a decent place to hide and wait them out, but most of the time they break him and he resorts to sleeping with anyone to relieve it. It isn’t safe and the type of ghoul who would fuck someone in heat without talking it out with them beforehand isn’t the type to be kind and respectful. His partner will need to sit him down and talk about how he wants to go about it before it happens to be sure they have a plan and don’t cross any of his boundaries, and he’ll honestly be grateful for the sense of security that comes with a safe place to get through it. Just keep him from overheating, bring some painkillers, be gentle with him and maybe ask around among rich ghoul circles for doctors who can treat heat disorders and he’ll fall in love all over again

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he’s very intimate. He always holds out hope that sex will be romantic and kind and even with the kind of people he’s been with in the past he hasn’t given up on that fairy tail Candlelight-And-Velvet sex he wants. Tell him how pretty he is and kiss him and he’ll be melting in your arms

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): considering that he’s homeless, roams with a pack of people, and that it takes more for him to come than it takes others, for Naki jerking off takes more planning than you’d think. He needs to wait until he can find somewhere that he can go in private between missions, often rooms in unoccupied buildings where the White Suits are staying, and then he can relieve himself. Since he needs his kakuhou touched he rubs up against something to stimulate it. If he’s lucky he can find a living room or bedroom with pillows he can use, but if he can’t he’ll fold up his jacket. Between touching his cock and rutting his kakuhou against the pillows he’s able to get himself off every so often before slipping back into the group and hoping no one has questions about where he went

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): blindfolds. You know how when vets treat horses and deer they cover their eyes to make them less nervous? The same thing works on Naki. He’s a little uneasy when getting started and oddly enough, if he’s blindfolded and unable to anticipate movements, that fades away. All he has to do is focus on the sensations of being touched and words of praise, and any anxiety is replaced by euphoria

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): bedroom. For most that seems normal but for him that’s a luxury. A comfy bed? A door for privacy? Lights that can be turned off? That’s living like kings right there

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): genuine affection. Nothing gets him hard like assurance that he’s loved and wanted through the simple kindness he craves

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Naki has some trouble with setting boundaries, he assumes his partner will be mad and needs the assurance that there’s nothing wrong with not being comfortable with things. He’s not quite sure where to start so he’d have to say that he doesn’t like anything too rough or mean. Things like bottoming unprepared, impact play or degradation. Biting and hard grips are fine since that’s normal for ghouls to enjoy but things that are purposefully sadistic are off the table. He’s getting better at speaking up when something hurts physically or emotionally, and it feels good to be able to say no without feeling guilty about it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): he prefers to give. Because he’s a ghoul, Teeth Near Dick is a valid fear and one that he’d rather avoid. Though he isn’t opposed to being the one giving head

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he can take a lot, but prefers for his partner to be gentle and slow when he’s bottoming. Though when he’s on top, he’s pretty quick, not so much that he’s trying to be rough, rather he gets caught up in feeling good and ends up fucking like a rabbit

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he hates them. He knows that “quick fuck” = “not enough time for him to finish” = “not enough time for post sex cuddles” = “huge emotional drop.” He needs to have time, he needs to have the right touches, and he needs to have decent aftercare. Quickies don’t allow for that so he isn’t too keen on them

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he doesn’t really like to. He knows his comfort zone in regards to sex and he knows that he doesn’t do well with pushing its boundaries. He’d rather stick to doing it inside, and if there’s anything new his partner wants to bring into the bedroom it would need to be gradual

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): he lasts a hell of a long time. He goes a round or two before being tapped out, but with how long it takes him to come those rounds can be awhile

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he doesn’t have any. He wouldn’t be opposed to some being used on him as long as they don’t hurt though

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he doesn’t like teasing and he doesn’t like to be teased, he doesn’t see the appeal

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): I’m sure this comes as no surprise but Naki cries during sex. He does it when he’s in pain, he does it when he’s feeling amazing, he does it with any strong sensation at all so no matter what it’s just going to happen. It’s normal for him to let a few tears fall while he’s fucking, along with some pretty loud moans. What is surprising is that he’s one of those rare ghouls who purrs during sex. He doesn’t always do it because he needs to feel very safe and very good, but with the right partner he’ll be purring like a kitten

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): he likes wearing things that his partner gives him. It’s a task that he can obey, it’s a physical reminder that they care enough about him to decorate him, it’s something that shows everyone who he belongs to. Whether it’s a collar or a suit he jumps at the opportunity to wear something that marks him as theirs

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): 7.5 inches, life may have screwed him over but at least his meat is huge

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): a little below average. Sex isn’t as important to him as romance, rather it’s another expression of romance, so only doing it a few times a month is enough for him. Though he’d be okay with doing it more if his partner wants to, he likes doing anything as long as it’s with them and sex can be amazing

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he doesn’t fall asleep after sex unless he’s sure he’s somewhere safe. He’s used to having to immediately fix his clothes and leave whenever it’s over, but if he has a partner who cares about him, a room that’s safe, and some cuddles to put him at ease, he’ll slowly drift off

[lamptracker]

FIC: This Seat Taken? (Seo Changbin/Female Reader)

Literally the only reason I got this done was because I broke my toe and have an abundance of sitting-around time. So... yay, I suppose.

Onward.

Title: This Seat Taken?

Pairing: Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)/Female Reader

Summary: The reader finds herself falling in love with her best friend Changbin.

Warnings: A few potty words but other than that, not much really.

Author’s Note(s): This takes place in a world where A. There have only ever been eight members of Stray Kids (we do not talk about the AT&T of people) and B. Minho’s cats live in the dorms with them. 

Which brings up two questions: Why don’t Minho’s cats live in the dorms? And have they fixed that stupid curtain yet??

As per tradition I tag @jisungiesbunnie​ I keep bringing this up in the Discord lol

The very last thing you wanted was to be part of a cliche.

They were everywhere. The “enemies to lovers.” The old standby “oh my God, they were roommates.” The good old fashioned “best friends to lovers.”

You wanted absolutely no part of it.

So why were you in danger of falling prey to “best friends to lovers”?

And moreover, why were you falling hopelessly in love with Seo Changbin?

**

You met Seo Changbin at a very vulnerable time in your life.

You were sixteen years old, and it was your first day at your new high school. You knew absolutely nobody. And since you were the new kid in school, there wasn’t a soul that wanted anything to do with you. Nobody wanted to sit near you in class. Even the teachers didn’t call on you, which was super unfortunate since you totally knew the answer in your math class. That wouldn’t have stung so much if the kid she called on had gotten it right.

So, at lunch, you found a table in the far corner, nobody around for what seemed like miles. This is as good a spot as any, you thought as you settled in. 

You were partway through your cheese sandwich when you suddenly heard a deep voice say, “This seat taken?”

You looked up to find… a boy. He was short - not much taller than you were - but he had a lean yet muscular build and kind eyes.

“I don’t suppose so,” you muttered quietly.

The boy sat across the table from you. “I don’t recognize you,” he said. “Are you new?”

You nodded.

“Ah! Okay. Well, my name is Changbin, Seo Changbin?”

“(y/n),” you replied. “You’re the first person all day that’s actually said more than five words to me. And those five words have usually been get out of my way.”

Changbin scoffed. “That’s terrible. Look, some of these people can be real jerks, I-”

“Hey, Changbin! What’re you doing talking to that loser?”

The voice belonged to a boy who was in your social studies class, one who’d shoved you out of the way in the hallway to get to the lunchroom first.

“She’s not a loser, she’s just new. And she seems really nice. So if you can’t be nice to her, just go sit down.”

The boy rolled his eyes as he walked away. 

“Thank you,” you said shyly.

“No problem.” Changbin flashed you a lopsided grin; you couldn’t help giggling in response.

“I have a really hard time making friends,” you admitted. “And my family moves around for my dad’s job, that doesn’t help.”

“Well, I am honored to be your friend. I mean, if you’ll let me.”

You smiled warmly at him. “Of course.”

**

The two of you were thick as thieves after that. It wasn’t long before you were over at each others’ houses all the time - it got to the point where your mom was picking up Changbin’s favorites at the store - and texting each other constantly. You didn’t let a day go by without at least texting each other once. 

Even when you graduated from high school and went your separate ways - you went off to college, studying communications and mass marketing; he auditioned for a new K-Pop group that was forming - you made sure to talk every day.

You were there for each other when times were good - when you got accepted to your dream school, when Changbin was selected for Stray Kids. And when times were bad - Changbin was really down when Minho was eliminated, you’d had to have knee surgery right after you graduated college, and let’s not forget every failed girlfriend he’d had and every failed boyfriend you’d racked up.

He helped you find your job, too. You were six months out of college and still hadn’t found a job yet.

“I’m starting to think I majored in the wrong thing,” you lamented to Changbin over coffee one afternoon. “I loved my studies, but I just can’t seem to land even an interview. I thought communications was a growing industry, but…”

“I’m so sorry,” Changbin replied. “Let me see what I can do.”

“What you can do?” you echoed. “What can you do?”

“Give me a week,” he assured you. Shrugging, you turned back to your coffee.

“My mom wants me to join a temp agency,” you said. “If you can’t find something for me by this time next week, I’m going to.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Two days later, you’d gotten a call from an administrative assistant at JYPE. Your resume came across their desk, see, and looking over your credentials they thought you’d be perfect for a job that just opened up. Well, have you ever heard of the new group, Stray Kids? You’d be their assistant, pretty much. JYPE would book appearances and organize tours; you would be responsible for booking flights and hotels and meal reservations and whatnot. You would also live in the dorm with them - you’d get your own room, of course, far away from the rest of the guys (they’re all nice but Chan snores, a lot of them are talkers and Minho curses in his sleep). You might be asked to do a little light housekeeping, maybe cook on occas-

“I’ll take it!” you exclaimed. 

The assistant laughed. “You don’t even know how much we’re paying you.”

“Don’t care,” you replied. “I’ve been jobless for half a year, and I have student loans. I’ll take it.”

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a cup of coffee at your favorite shop, looking over the email from JYPE detailing your contract.

“This seat taken?”

“Seo Changbin! You did it, you son of a bitch.”

“Did what?” Changbin sat across from you and took a sip of his coffee, thoroughly confused.

You chuckled. “JYPE called me today. I’m going to be Stray Kids’ official assistant. I’ll be booking flights and hotels for appearances and the tour, I’ll be living with you guys and-”

“What!” Changbin rose from his seat and ran around to your side of the table, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “That’s amazing! I thought they’d just get you a job in the office or answering fanmail or something, I wasn’t expecting that!” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Okay, um. Fair bit of warning about the guys’ sleeping habits, uh-”

“They told me about a couple. Uh… Chan snores and Minho swears in his sleep.”

“Hyunjin and Jisung talk in their sleep,” Changbin added. “Felix always has to be hugging someone or something. Seungmin always, just, screams right as he falls asleep. Jeongin’s a sleepwalker, that’s super fun. We had to put like four locks on the door, we lock every other one because he just goes down the line and thinks he’s unlocking all of them. And-”

“You talk in your sleep too,” you finished. “Most of the time you’re looking for something or you’re lost, but I have definitely heard you do it.”

Changbin looked slightly wounded. “I was going to say I don’t think I do anything, but… okay, I guess.”

You laughed. “Hey, um, thanks. For helping me out. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He squeezed your shoulder again before sliding out of the booth.

**

Some people who fall hopelessly in love with their best friend will tell you they can’t pinpoint the exact reason why they fell in love. 

You can, though.

It was a year after you first moved into the dorm… and it was all Lee Minho’s fault.

You were going through the bedrooms, gathering up laundry.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, “if these morons could get their underpants in the vicinity of the hamper, I’d be happy.”

“They’re not mine.”

You jumped, nearly bonking the top of your head on the top bunk of one of the beds. “Damn it, Minho, you scared the crap out of me.”

Minho chuckled quietly. “Sorry. How’s it going?”

“Peachy. I’m so glad I went to college so I could clean up after a bunch of overgrown children.”

“Oh, come on. We’re not that bad, are we?”

You laughed. “No. I’m just… I guess I’m grouchy today, that’s all. Didn’t sleep well last night. I actually really do like this job, I’m grateful that Changbin helped me get it.”

Minho nodded slightly. “He's going out again tonight?”

“Yep. This girl he met at the grocery store, Ha-Rin? That might be right, I’m not sure. I can’t keep track anymore.”

“Wow,” Minho said. “He’s been really unlucky in the girls department lately, hasn’t he?”

“He really has, I don’t get it.”

“Do you think… do you think they’re jealous of you?”

You shrugged. “It’s possible. I’m a girl who lives with him and has been friends with him for years. Plus I am a snack.” You made a passing motion over your body. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of this?”

Minho laughed loudly. “I might be out of line here, and feel free to punch me for it, but… but do you ever get jealous of them?”

You wrinkled your nose in confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you guys have been friends since you were sixteen. You’ve never wondered what it was like to date him?”

You scoffed. “No! Absolutely not. He’s my best friend, that would be so weird. Like dating my brother or something, gross.”

Minho laughed again, raising his hands in a sort-of defensive gesture. “Okay! Sorry I brought it up.”

But that night, you had a weird dream. You were at your senior prom (in real life, you and Changbin had skipped it to have a Marvel movie marathon). You were wearing a beautiful royal blue dress, with sequins - not too many, just enough to make it classy. 

You were slow dancing with… someone. You couldn’t tell who. It was dark, and your arms were wrapped around their neck, your head nestled on their shoulder; their arms were wrapped firmly around your waist. 

“Close your eyes,” a soft, yet vaguely familiar voice whispered.

You did; the person holding you unwrapped one arm from your waist, tipped your chin up, and gently pressed their lips to yours. You quickly melted into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to them as the kiss deepened slightly.

The other person pulled away slowly; you opened your eyes…

...and found yourself staring at none other than Changbin.

You sat up with a start, and you were a side sleeper, so you nearly fell out of bed.

“God damn you, Minho,” you muttered as you pulled the blanket over your head. “I can’t tell him. I can never tell him. I don’t want to lose his friendship.”

So you made two solemn vows: You vowed to punch Lee Minho in the face the next time you saw him, and you vowed never to tell Changbin how you felt about him. 

You settled for giving Minho a dirty look over breakfast the next morning. As for the other thing, well...

**

Every time Changbin had a new girlfriend, your heart dropped ever-so-slightly in your chest. And always twice: Once, when he’d first start dating her; and once, when she broke up with him.

It was practically identical every single time: He would meet a girl. He would rush into the living room, a big smile plastered on his face, and exclaim: “I met the most amazing girl!” He would list off her qualities - pretty, smart, funny, ordered the same obscure thing from the Thai place that he liked, etc. They’d start dating. He’d come home after their third date and proclaim: “I think she might be The One, y’know? She’s - oh, wipe that look off your face, Lee Minho; I mean it this time.” Things would go really well for a brief amount of time. The longest was five months; the shortest, two weeks. 

And when it inevitably went south, that was practically identical every single time as well. He’d trudge through the door, kick off his shoes, slump down on the couch, and say: “Okay, Minho, you can say I told you so now.” 

Minho would always refrain, to his credit, except for when Changbin and Ha-Rin (the grocery store girl) broke up; he did not like Ha-Rin. That was a really long story. But let’s just say if cats think you’re evil, so will Minho; and his cats absolutely hated Ha-Rin. (Especially Dori, and Dori loves everybody.)

Anyway, after giving Minho the chance to gloat (which, as previously mentioned, he only did once), Changbin would give you a Look™ and you would follow him into your room. The other guys knew not to bother you in there, so it was a safe place. He’d slump down onto the bed and smile sadly at you while patting the space next to him.  

“This seat taken?” you’d ask, mimicking one of his favorite lines. He would shake his head ever-so-slightly. And you’d sit, and open your arms, and he’d fall into them, sobbing all the while.

Sometimes, he would tell you why they broke up with him. They were all terrible reasons, too: Just wanted to see what it was like to date an Idol. Wanted to make their ex jealous. Needed a date to this work/school/family thing. Just trying to get closer to Chan (twice), Hyunjin (four times), Jeongin (three times), Minho’s cats (once; that girl was weird). In at least one case, it was because of you. (That was why he and Ha-Rin broke up; he never told you that was why, but she did. Seems she made him choose between her or being friends with you and he picked you. Of course, you’d never tell him you knew.)

And every single time, your heart shattered right along with his, because you knew that you would never do this to him. So why didn’t he know that?

**

Those feelings only solidified the night you got dumped.

You had been dating Daeshim for roughly eight months or so. You’d met at the grocery store, and were immediately drawn to him. In hindsight, you admittedly pulled a Changbin: You fell for him, hard and fast. The two of you were practically inseparable. You’d kissed on the third date, he said “I love you” after a month, you were already making plans for you future house (try to find something within a few miles of the dorms), your wedding (he didn’t bat an eye when you said that instead of bridesmaids, you wanted your eight roommates to stand up with you), even your kids’ names (Nabi for a girl, Yu-jun for a boy). He not only wasn’t jealous of the fact that you lived with eight men, he embraced it. “They were here before I was,” he’d said, “so why would that bother me?”

Daeshim was your person.

Until… he wasn’t.

The guys were all at the studio, practicing choreography for their upcoming music video, so you were home alone. Perfect environment for wallowing.

You were on the couch, curled up in a giant blanket, sobbing so hard that at one point you were afraid you’d cry your brain right out of your nose. You were a hot mess - your hair was disheveled, your eyes and nose were red and puffy, your face was wet with tears and sweat and God knows what else. You did not look cute.

And, naturally, that was the moment Changbin came home.

“Oh, no, hey,” he said softly. “Did something happen with you and Daeshim?”

You nodded hastily.

“Want me to make the other guys go away for a bit?”

You shook your head. “They’re okay.”

“Well… do you want to go to your room? We can talk there.”

You sniffled as you reached for the box of tissues. “Okay.”

Changbin helped you off the couch and gingerly led you to your room as the other guys came spilling into the living room. Felix started to ask what was going on, but Changbin just shook his head and silently mouthed I’ll tell you later.

Changbin carefully helped you onto the bed. Reversing the roles slightly, you smiled sadly at him and patted the seat next to you.

Changbin couldn’t help but smile a small smile as he said, “This seat taken?” You shook your head; he settled down next to you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to tell him what had happened, but a loud sob came out instead.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Changbin soothed as he wrapped his arms around you. “Take your time, tell me when you’re ready.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest as a fresh wave of tears came. Changbin said nothing, just held you as you cried, occasionally rubbing soothing circles over your back.

Finally, you sat up and took a deep breath. “He cheated on me.”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “He did what now?”

“I caught him,” you explained. “I went to the coffee shop down the street to get a drink and one of those croissants with the chocolate in the middle, you know? And I did a little work while I was there, too, figured it’d be nice to get out for a bit. Anyway, I walked out to come home and… and I saw them.”

“Oh, no.”

Just when you thought you had no tears left, an altogether new supply started welling up in your eyes. “He met someone at work,” you said. “They were put on a project together, they got to talking, one thing led to another. He says he loves me but he loved them too and he couldn’t choose. So… you know… I chose for him.”

“And this person still wants to date him?”

“Went back to the cafe to get my laptop charger, saw them kissing when I came back out.”

“Ugh. Wow, (y/n), I’m so sorry.”

You snorted as you tightened your grip around his waist, resting your head on his chest again. “Usually this is the other way around, I’m the one consoling you after a breakup. Must be nice for you to have the situation reversed for a switch.”

“Actually, it kills me to see you like this. You don’t deserve that, I mean nobody does, but especially you. You are amazing, you know that? You’re sweet, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, you’re completely hilarious. You’ve done two things that I thought were impossible, you can out-drink Jisung and you can out-weird Seungmin. And, do you even know how pretty you are? Daeshim fucked up, and royally at that. Any guy would be so lucky to have you.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears at his words. But, you knew they were just that: words. He didn’t really feel that way about you. He was just trying to make you feel better.

Or was he?

Nonetheless, he only liked you as a friend, as far as you knew, and he was just helping lift your spirits.

He was successful at that, but he was even more successful at making you fall even deeper in love with him. The feelings you thought you’d gotten rid of when you and Daeshim started dating not only resurfaced, but intensified.

You sighed deeply, finally allowing yourself to relax in Changbin’s arms. His grip was firm but not too tight, just enough to make you feel safe and protected. He didn’t say anything else, he just allowed you to relax; occasionally he’d give you a gentle squeeze. Before too long, you were dozing.

It was only slightly weird that it was one of the best nights of sleep you’d ever had.

You woke up late the next morning, alone, but there was a glass of juice and two muffins on the bedside table. Had to go to practice, the handwritten note under the glass read. Sorry I couldn’t be here to have breakfast with you, so I figured I’d at least feed you. They’re blueberry muffins, Felix baked them fresh this morning. Take the day off if you need to, I’ll explain everything if JYP asks. Please call if you need anything.

Love, Binnie

You smiled softly to yourself as you bit into one of the muffins. Changbin was so sweet, and wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Just like a good friend should.

You scoffed slightly. Friend. That was all he’d ever be. Better get used to it...

**

Not long after you and Daeshim broke up, Changbin started dating this girl he’d met… somewhere. You didn’t know. Or, honestly, care. But her name was Min Jee, and she was way different from the other girls he's dated. She was pretty for sure, but she was funny and sweet and everything Changbin had been looking for. (And Minho’s cats? Adored her.)

Plus, she didn’t seem to be threatened by you in the slightest, so that was a definite plus.

You tried so hard to be happy for them. You even went out for coffee with Min Jee a few times, just the two of you, while the guys were practicing. That whole funny and sweet thing was no act - she really was that nice and that hilarious. She was touched that you wanted to be your friend, and you could have been her best friend, except for the fact that you guys had one thing in common: You were both madly in love with her boyfriend.

Two months into their relationship, the dynamic changed. 

“You’re home early,” you said as Changbin gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t expect you back until later, how’s Min Jee?”

“We broke up.” Changbin hung his keys by the door and started into the kitchen.

You sighed. “Oh, Binnie, again? I am so sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Changbin shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, you know?”

For some reason - to this day, you have no idea why - but for some reason, this was the moment you finally snapped.

“You know, you go out with a lot of girls,” you started. “You always fall for them really quickly, and really hard. And you always end up single again after a few weeks. And it - you know what, Changbin? It breaks my heart, it really does. I thought Min Jee was different, but looks like I was wrong, you know? It absolutely breaks my heart to see this happen to you over and over and over again, because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve someone that truly loves you for who you are, not just because you’re an idol. You deserve someone who cares about you, who’s there for you when things are rough, who just… who loves you with every fiber of her being. I can almost guarantee that there’s not a single girl out there who can be even a fraction of those things, who can even come close to loving you as much as I do.”

Changbin’s eyes grew wide as your rant came to a close. He just stared at you for a moment, jaw slack, not saying a word…

...and that was the moment when your brain realized what your mouth had done.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

You know that thing you were never ever ever EVER going to tell him? That thing you were going to take to the grave with you?

Yeah, you just realized your greatest fear: You opened your mouth, and out it went. 

Look, brain, you said to yourself. You can beat me up in a minute, okay? For now, though…

“I have to get out of here,” you said. You turned around and ran out the door, not even bothering to pull it closed behind you. You ran out the front door of the dorms, down the street, to the park just at the end of the block. You didn’t stop running until you reached the small pond near the back of the park - not too many people knew about this pond. It was small and clean and had a bench off to one side of it, facing the water. 

Changbin found it one day, not long after he’d moved into the dorms. It was the perfect place to go to catch a breath of fresh air. He brought you here not long after you’d moved in; the two of you came here often to talk about things you didn’t want the other guys to overhear.

You slumped down on the bench, buried your head in your hands, and started sobbing.

Do your worst, brain, you said. I deserve it.

Of course you do, moron. How could you say that? How could you tell him you love him? There is no possible way he loves you back, you know that, right? You’re probably responsible for him being dumped so many times anyway, they’re all jealous of you. Even Min Jee, she didn’t REALLY like you. She was pretending, for his sake. He just hasn’t figured that out yet. You know what you just did, right? You ruined any chance of a romantic relationship with him, and not only that you’ve completely ruined your friendship. You are such a…

“This seat taken?”

You didn’t answer, instead you kept sobbing quietly into your hands. You thought that maybe if you ignored him, didn’t acknowledge his presence, he’d just… go away.

Weight settling onto the other end of the short bench told you that he did not just go away.

You heard Changbin heave a deep sigh before he started speaking. “Min Jee didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her. Uh, it was the most insane thing that set it off, too. Um, she was telling me all about her day. She always tells me all about her day. And she was telling me about her day, like she always does, and I caught myself thinking: Wow, I really do not care about this even a little bit.” Changbin chuckled quietly to himself before continuing. “I didn’t want to hear about her day. You know whose day I really wanted to hear about? Yours. Min Jee and I were together for two months and I was already tired of hearing about her day. I’ve talked to you every day since we were 16, and I never get tired of hearing about yours. Not even after you started living with us, and I got to see you every day. And I got to thinking: I have dated a lot of girls. But I think about them, even the ones I thought I loved, and I realize something: not one of them would have my back when things would be bad. When my anxiety is too high, none of them would have helped. When I felt like I had a bad performance, they’d just shrug and talk about themselves. Sure, they were pretty, and funny, and smart. But none of them cared about me the same way you do. Not even Min Jee.”

You raised your head, gently wiping your nose. “What are you trying to say, Changbin?”

Changbin gently grasped one of your hands in both of his. “I’m trying to say… I’m definitely saying that I love you too.”

Another tear slipped out of your eye as you stared at him. You tried to wrap your head around the ridiculousness of this situation:

Seo Changbin, the boy you loved and was sure did not love you back, just told you he loved you back.

Take THAT, brain.

“Um… really?” was all you could manage. 

Changbin smiled softly at you; your heart fluttered in your chest. “Really. And you… you really love me?”

“Yes.” You were taken aback a bit by how quickly and effortlessly you answered the question.

Changbin’s grip on your hand tightened ever-so-slightly. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, almost shyly.

“I’d really like that.”

He let go of your hand and cupped your cheeks in his hands, carefully wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned in, licking his lips slightly before pressing them to yours.

You had dreamed of kissing him before. But even your dreams couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing, how wonderful and warm and sweet it was.

His lips were smooth and dry against yours; they parted slightly as one of his hands moved down to your waist. His other hand stayed cupped against your cheek, thumb lightly brushing your cheekbone. As the kiss deepened, you could feel him pour every emotion he’d been repressing - love, mostly, but also a sense of tenderness and longing - into it. 

Changbin broke the kiss, pulling back from you; he was smiling softly and looking at you as if you were the only other person on Earth.

Not even Daeshim had looked at you like that.

“Uh… wow,” you breathed. 

“Yeah,” he replied, “wow.”

You smiled back at him, resting a hand on his knee, and you leaned in to kiss him again when a sudden stiff breeze rustled through the surrounding trees. You shivered involuntarily.

“Cold?” he asked.

You nodded. “Can we go home?”

“Sure.” He stood first, gently pulling you to a standing position. You walked back to the dorms, hand-in-hand; before you left the park, he asked: “So, how was your day?”

You grinned as you told him all about your day. And he was smiling the entire time.

**

When the two of you got back to the dorms, it sure looked like you were alone. Changbin settled down on the couch; smiling up at you, he patted his lap.

“This seat taken?” you asked, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Changbin just raised an eyebrow as he grabbed you around the waist, pulling you into his lap. He lightly tickled your sides as you laughed, trying to settle into his lap but squirming instead.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be nice,” he said, gently kissing your cheek. “I’m so glad I finally get to hold you this way.”

“Me too.”

“You really weren’t going to say anything?”

“Were you?”

“Fair point, I guess… didn’t want to mess up the friendship either, huh?”

“You are correct, sir.”

A short pause, then: “Only one of them broke up with me because of you, you know.”

“Ha-Rin, yeah. She told me. That was totally unfair of her to make you choose.”

“She told you? She swore me to secrecy and then she told you?”

“Wanted to make me feel guilty, I suppose.” You shrugged. “Didn’t work, I hated her guts. I was never happy to see you get dumped, except when Ha-Rin dumped you.”

“Yeah, that was the only time Minho said I told you so, too.” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head. “You know what, though? None of that matters anymore, now that I’ve got you.”

You hummed happily, leaning back slightly in his arms. “You’re right. But I am dying to know what that one girl was thinking.”

“Which one?”

“Dating you to get closer to the cats?”

Changbin laughed. “Some things, you just never find out.” He nuzzled the side of your neck. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, Binnie.” You turned your head, letting his lips connect with yours. Just as the kiss was starting to deepen, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You turned your head away… and there were Changbin’s seven band members, all arms crossed, staring down at you.

Changbin grinned sheepishly at them as you waved and said, “Hey, fellas.” Chan started to open his mouth, but you cut him off. “Since I know you guys, and I’m reasonably sure you guys had money riding on this situation, I’ll just settle the main bet and the prop bets. I told him first, extremely by accident but it was me. He broke up with Min Jee because he felt the same way, but that happened before I told him, not because of it. He kissed me first,  and… that should settle it, right?”

“Pay up, suckers.” Jeongin held out a hand as the other guys groaned and reached for their wallets.

“How did you know he was going to break it off with Min Jee but (y/n) would be the one to say it first?!” Jisung grumbled.

“I didn’t, I just guessed.” Jeongin shrugged. “Your money, sir?”

“Go buy yourself something nice,” Jisung said. “Anyway, now that that’s out of the way…I’m really happy for you guys, I really am. Even if you did cost me 20,000 won.”

The rest of the guys nodded in agreement, a few offering their congratulations.

“Look, we’ll leave you two kids alone, if that’s what you want?” Chan said, almost awkwardly.

“Nah, you guys have the living room.” You climbed out of Changbin’s lap, offering him your hand; he took it and you helped him stand. “We’ll just go make out in my room.”

Changbin laughed as you led him down the hallway. “Awfully presumptuous, aren’t we?”

“Look, I know what I want.” You pulled your door shut behind you. “And right now, I want to kiss you.” 

Changbin smiled as you sat down on your bed. “This seat taken?”

“Just get down here.” You pulled the front of his shirt; he fell onto the bed, hovering over you. 

“God, you’re amazing.” He leaned down, closing the gap between your mouths.

You cannot believe you were just never going to tell him how you felt. But now, as his hand slid up to your stomach, you are more than happy you did.

Was that a cliche? Of course it was. But a cliche was making you blissfully happy, so you didn’t seem to mind it so much.

[omegaqueencas]

Take a Cue - Billiards Vingettes

1- John started teaching Dean to play pool as soon as he was tall enough to reach the felt, and Sam had early memories of sitting on the edge of the table in grimy bars, watching his father guide Dean’s hands on the cue, just like he guided them on a gun doing target practice. 

Once, Sam got his fingers crushed against the edge of the felt by the ball because he’d forgotten John’s admonition to be careful. Dean didn’t want to play for a while after that, until Dad snapped, “He’s gonna get hurt worse than that some day, do you want to be able to take care of him or not? Pool’s a good way to make money, in a pinch.” 

After that they played again, and Dean had a hard-eyed intensity that Sam was slowly becoming familiar with as his brother grew older. 

2- Sam’s earliest role in hustling pool was as the teary-eyed distraction. If Dad’s mark was making trouble about handing over the money, it was Sam’s job to come over sniffling and wide-eyed, asking if they were angry with his Daddy. Dean would stand protectively behind him, ready to drag him out of harm’s way in case it didn’t work. It always worked. 

3- Later, it was Dean who taught Sam to play. Night after night, whenever there was a diner or a bar with a pool table, they’d take down the cues and rack the balls. At first Sam just practiced hitting any ball into any pocket, and then, as he gradually improved, they played every variation of billiards on the books, and a few that he was pretty sure Dean made up. 

“You scratched the cue ball! You have to pick truth or dare.” 

“That’s not a real rule, Dean.” 

“How do you know? And don’t chalk the cue between every turn, it makes you look like an amateur.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t looking like an amateur the point?” 

“Yeah but only when you want to. Pool is a dying art and w e have to be defenders of her honor. Come on, truth or dare Sammy?” 

“Don’t call me Sammy. Fine, truth.” 

“Were you jerking off last week, after you walked in on me and Carla Benetti?” 

“Ugh, you’re such a freak, Dean!” 

Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Answer the question, you can’t welch on truth or dare.” 

“Time to go, boys,” their dad called, and they had to put the cues away. 

Twenty miles down the highway, both curled to sleep in the back seat with streetlights flickering in magic-lantern shadows on the inside of the car, Sam leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder and whispered, “Yes.” 

“Huh?” Dean said, already thick with sleep. Dean could fall asleep anywhere, at any time. 

“I said yes,” Sam repeat, low enough to not be overheard by John beneath the roar of the engine and the rush of the road. “I was jerking off. After I walked in on you.” 

“Oh.” Dean breathed out, a little shakily, and his hand found Sam’s skinny knee, squeezing. 

The dark made Sam brave. He reached down and closed his own fingers around Dean’s, holding them in place. They fell asleep like that. 

4-John watched his boys circling the pool table. Sometime in the last six months, Sam had started to grow and didn’t look like he was stopping, and it was throwing off his game. It would take practice to get accustomed to his new reach and strength, and although it would eventually be an asset, it was clearly aggravating Sam now, as Dean beat him up and down, game after game. 

John was at the bar, waiting for a contact who was supposed to meet him. Despite spending most of their lives in a car or assorted motel rooms together, he didn’t often get a chance to just watch his boys together. Not without haranguing them to finish their drills, or do the dishes, or stop their damn fool arguing. Tonight he had nothing better to do, until his contact showed. 

Dean was teasing his brother, ragging on him, the kind of patter he never got to use on marks, not when he needed to keep them calm. Sam was not staying calm, going red-faced and pout-lipped, bangs in his eyes. It was affecting his playing. Steady breaths, John could have told him; just like aiming a gun - shoot on the exhale. But Sam was getting to that age where you couldn’t tell him anything, lanky and stubborn. 

As Sam leaned over to take a shot, Dean passed close behind him and ruffled his hair. Sam missed the shot badly, and straightened up, scowling. “Dean!” John heard, over the noise of the bar. Dean grinned, unrepentant. 

Beside John, someone cleared his throat, and John turned to shake hands with the tall, grizzled ex-hunter he’d been waiting for. At some point during the conversation, he lost track of the boys and when he glanced over, they were both gone, pool game abandoned with balls scattered across the table. 

Just as John’s heart jumped with adrenaline, wondering if something or someone could have snatched them right here under his nose, he spotted both of them coming back from the bathrooms. Sam was still red-faced, and Dean still looked smug. They didn’t finish the game. 

5- There was a stretch of time where they were too old to be shepherded into a bar innocently by their father, and too young to convincingly pass off fake IDs. They kept their skills up at billiards tables in all-ages restaurants and permissive dives all across the country, places that would turn a blind eye to a pair of teenagers playing pool as long as they didn’t drink. It was easy to hustle in places like that. Everyone underestimated a kid. 

Sometimes people looked at Dean’s mouth or Sam’s beanpole legs and thought they could hustle something else. Dean always sent them away firmly as long as Sam was in earshot. Occasionally, if money was really tight, he’d slip out after putting Sam to bed, come back near closing time, and make a little more on the side. 

6- Watching Sam’s ass as he bent over a pool table was Dean’s favorite kind of public masochism. His bubble butt was the one place he’d never lost his baby-boy softness, although Dean knew from touching it a thousand times that the plump roundness was all muscle when Sam flexed. 

Sam’s Levi’s strained over the generous curve and Dean knew he wasn’t the only one watching. It made him hot with jealousy and pride to have other people’s eyes hungry on Sam as they played. His arms flexed in his t-shirt as he lined up his next shot. It was a view good enough to sweeten the sting of the money marks lost.

Sam didn’t love the buzz of hustling like Dean did. During his teen years, Sam got more and more bitchy about how weird it was to count hustling pool as domestic budgeting, and he started the same tune right back up after Dean came to get him at Stanford. But he loved the game; had always loved mathematics and precision of it, the way Dean loved the art and music of the clacking balls. 

It never took much to cajole him into a game or two. Sometimes Sam even won, and always the competition, the posturing, the subtle exhibitionism left them both wound up and desperate to get off. 

Someday he was going to fuck Sam over a pool table. The opportunity just hadn’t presented itself yet. They sucked each other off in the car instead, taking the edge off enough to make it back to the motel. 

7- Sam could beat Dean sometimes, and Dean occasionally lost to an unlucky mistake with a stranger, but the first time Sam saw Dean get his ass whupped at pool by a girl was at the Roadhouse. Dean was excellent, professional caliber, but Jo had grown up in a bar with a pool table, spent every day of her life there. And Dean had underestimated her the first time. It was stupid of him, Sam reflected, when Dean himself had so often taken advantage of his blond good looks to lower a mark’s expectations. 

Jo won the second game on skill alone, Dean playing hard and focused against her. He won the third, though. She looked a little breathless, a little bright-eyed and turned on afterward. Sam could sympathize. Win or lose, playing Dean at pool was always a semi-sexual experience. That was part of what made him such a good hustler. The game was as much about domination of this cocky, beautiful, attention-seeking young man as it was about the billiards. It drew people in helplessly, like Jo. Like Sam. 

8- There was something unknowable about the Winchester brothers from the moment they first set foot in the Roadhouse - a mystery that went beyond Ellen’s strong reaction. Dean was mouthy and charming, Sam withdrawn and polite, but both of them were in some undefinable way, untouchable. Like everyone else in the world was slightly unreal, and only the Winchester brothers really existed for one another. It was at the pool table that she finally figured them out. 

Waking up in the middle of the night and padding down the hall to the bathroom Jo heard noises from the bar downstairs. Sometimes her mom would take weird meetings with hunters at odd hours, and Jo was always curious, so she crept to the top of the stairs where she could watch without being seen in the shadows. 

It was Sam and Dean, playing pool. The hard clacking sounds she’d heard weren’t beer glasses but balls. She understood insomnia. There were nights when she couldn’t sleep that she’d spent hours at that table, trying to lose herself and her grief in the patterns of the balls on the felt. 

They circled the table like a pair of graceful animals, not speaking at all, and watched each other with intense eyes. That was what caught her attention, held her in place wrapt instead of going back to her warm bed. She’d played Dean earlier that evening, beat his chauvinist ass twice, and she’d seen how he watched her as he played - first casually, then measuringly, and finally triumphantly. But he had never looked at her like he’d seen her, like she was real in his world, like he was looking at Sam now. 

He watched his brother like Sam was a work of art, a piece a theatre. Appreciative, ecstatic. And Sam was looking back, almost predatory. She’d written him off as the soft, hurt college boy to Dean’s brash edges, but there was nothing soft about the way he was looking at his brother. Dean leaned over the table, deliberately slow, and Sam’s eyes were hungry. 

The unnamed suspicion growing in Jo’s gut clicked into focus when Dean put a hand on Sam’s back, dragging it down to the curve of his ass. Sam didn’t flinch, as if they did this all the time, just took his shot and sank the ball. Then he stood and grinned at Dean, wolfish. 

When Sam pushed Dean back against the edge of the table, pressed up between his spread thighs, Jo slipped away. She didn’t actually want to see them kiss or fuck or whatever they were about to do. God knew hunting made you crazy and destroyed innocence fast. Jo wanted to keep a tiny piece of her sanity for herself, in blissful, plausible denial about the mystery of the Winchester brothers.

 HAPPY WINCESTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! xoxo Anon 

[silverfootstepswrites]

Equinox: Summer [6]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (here)

“This might constitute an HR violation, you know," Madara warned as he heard the door to his office open. Then close. He finished typing his email before he clicked send. Turning away from his computer, he swiveled his chair toward them.

He eyed the both of them. Gaze lingering the longest on Sakura, who had no makeup on. His lips pursed as he watched Tobirama rest his hand on her back as he guided her to a chair. She plopped down in it, head lolling to one side as she stared off into nowhere.

"Have you been drinking?" demanded Madara.

"No," Sakura snorted.

"Well, you should be." As he spoke, Madara turned to the bookcase to the left of his desk. He pulled an entire stack of books off the shelf to reveal that they were decorative covers. Underneath was a collection of bottles. 

Madara poured three glasses. He took one and clinked it against the other two before he pushed them across the desk. 

"Drink up, darling. You look like you just crawled out of the Pit," Madara urged.

Sakura took her time sipping her drink, both hands cupped around the crystal glass. Ankles crossed, elbows up on the armrests, she looked everywhere but at the other two people in the room. When she set the empty glass on the desk, she felt ready to talk. But Madara held a finger up.

"Should I make him leave?" he inquired.

Tobirama glared at him. It didn't affect Madara at all.

"If you're looking for someone to blame, blame yourself. I don't blame Sakura for being uncomfortable. Not with you gushing desire all around her. You do realize that you're not a lawn sprinkler, don't you?" Madara went on.

A smile pulled at the corners of Sakura's mouth. She pursed her lips to quell the expression.

Shaking her head, she said, "It's fine, Madara."

That made Madara still. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the both of them. His gaze honed in on the lapis lazuli dangling from her neck. The golden fissures in the crystal shone especially bright against her black t-shirt.

He settled back in his chair. Eyes gleaming a little brighter as he gestured for her to go ahead.

Sakura looked at Tobirama. He gave a little nod.

"Well, Madara, you're... knowledgeable about... a lot of things, right?" she began.

Madara nodded.

"What... what do you know about... sirens?"

Madara's smile faded. He blew out a sigh, tilting his head to one side, then the other. "You're going to have to be specific, Bunny." But then he frowned. Nudging the glass aside, he held his hand out to her, palm up. She placed her hand on top of it. Feeling his cold fingers squeeze around hers.

Madara's eyes drifted shut. And then he took a deep breath. When his eyes opened again, he was smiling. He released her hand, shaking his head a little.

"I take it back. Poor Tobirama. No wonder he's in such a frenzy," he amended.

"And no need to elaborate. I think I know what's going on," added Madara.

Sakura stole a glance at Tobirama, not sure whether she should be embarrassed or not. He raised his eyebrows at her a little. Apparently, he wasn't sure either.

"Well, you, my darling, are nesting," Madara declared. Sakura's gaze flew back to him.

"I'm what?"

"I bet this idiot told you you were going into heat," Madara added, jerking his chin toward Tobirama. Tobirama raised his glass to his lips, stubbornly avoiding the other man's gaze.

"Although, he's not to blame. This is actually rather rare to be able to witness," Tobirama assured him. And then he turned his attention back to Sakura.

"I've avoided saying this in all the time I've known you because I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. But you're... extremely fragrant, Sakura. Even for a half," Madara explained.

"It's three-quarters, apparently," Sakura replied.

Madara paused. Blinking a few times. "Well, even with that. I've met some full-bloods who aren't anywhere near what you're at." And then he rubbed his chin as he thought.

"If most half's are like beer then most full's are like... hm... a glass of wine," he tried to explain.

"Then what's she like?" interjected Tobirama.

"A glass of fortified wine. A bit stronger. But still wine," Madara decided, scrutinizing Sakura. She scowled.

"But I'm still a quarter human. How does that math work out?" she asked.

Madara took a sip of his drink. "It's not all human. I've seen this before. You've probably got a drop or two of fairy blood mixed in there somewhere up the family tree. Fairy and siren magic are similar enough that they interact and amplify each other."

Sakura's forehead wrinkled. "That's a thing?" she wondered.

"Like Cleopatra. She had the entire Roman Empire tripping over themselves for her," he added as an example.

Sakura wrinkled her nose. "Not the most flattering example. Wasn't she a mess?"

Madara's eyes widened. "On the contrary. She was a lovely woman. Pretty enough, I suppose. But she was incredibly smart. A talented tactician. And she thrived in a world where women were considered  accessories on the arm of an angry little man with a sword."

But then he waved his hands. Like he was scattering all the thoughts. "Anyway, the matter of nesting." Madara pointed at Tobirama.

"It's not simply a matter of feeling comfortable. A siren has only nested when she's established a secure nest. That includes the occupants of that nest. Idiot."

Tobirama's eyes narrowed.

"But the number of members a nest can support is proportional to the charm of the siren that establishes it. For most, one or two is a solid number," Madara went on, looking at Sakura now.  "In your case... well..."

"Even Cleopatra only had one at a time, didn't she?" she asked.

"That you know of, darling," Madara corrected with a faint smile.

There was a long silence. For several minutes, none of them spoke. The only sound was Tobirama gulping down the rest of his drink. Silently grimacing at the taste of hard liquor.

"Obviously, all of this is a lot to take in. But what's troubling you the most at the moment about this?" Madara then questioned. Tobirama stared down at his empty glass. Madara pushed the decanter over to him so he could refill it before he returned his attention to Sakura. 

She let out a loud sigh. And then wondered, "Do I... have to?"

"Have to what?"

"Do I have to have... multiple... y'know...dudes.... guys..." she mumbled, feeling her face go hot.

When the meaning clicked, Madara hardly blinked. "Well, no. You don't have to do anything. It's entirely up to you."

“Am I always going to be so... eager.... to...” Sakura trailed off, sucking in a sharp breath. Tobirama’s mouth puckered like he’d just swallowed a particularly aggressive lemon. He pretended to be very interested in the ring on his thumb.

Madara thew his head back and laughed. "Oh! That's what's been worrying you?"

He reached out to take her hands. "Bunny, darling, be very honest with me. Have you ever wanted to sleep with me?" he inquired. She ripped out of his grasp.

"Ew! No! You're like... you're like my weird incubus-dad!" she retorted.

"What about Kakuzu? Or Hidan?" he pressed.

"Of course not!"

Madara's eyebrows rose. "See? You've just been very lucky... or maybe unlucky- to meet so many compatible people at once."

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Well, darling, you’ll only be very attracted to the people whose pheromones indicate a good match to yours. And guessing from Mr. Yankee Candle, you’ve got a halfway decent candidate right here,” added Madara, pointing. Tobirama frowned.

“That’s definitely an HR violation,” Tobirama declared.

“This entire conversation has been textbook HR violations. The only way it could get worse is if I hired a stripper right now,” quipped Madara.

“Please don’t,” sighed Sakura, head in her hands. She didn’t look up as Tobirama refilled her glass and slid it back over toward her. It bumped against her elbow.

Shrugging, Madara leaned back in his seat. He eyed the both of them. Rolled his eyes when Tobirama abandoned his glass and took the decanter instead.

"So. What's the plan, you two?" 

"Drink myself into oblivion. Buy a yurt. Or maybe an igloo. Never talk to anyone again," Sakura grumbled, rubbing her hands over her face. She looked up when Tobirama nudged her elbow with her glass again. She saw him holding the bottle out to her. Laughing a little, she clinked her glass against it.

"I can't help you with the real estate," Tobirama said as she took a sip. "But I know a wine bar near here that makes lamb meatballs. And baked brie."

"That sounds awesome," replied Sakura, perking up a little. 

Madara rolled his eyes again. It had taken them less than 10 seconds to completely forget his existence. Which he supposed he should be used to by now. 

"And then I'm going to try really hard to make you fall in love with me. For real," Tobirama then announced.

Madara's eyebrows rose. 

Sakura pressed her mouth to her shoulder, trying to hide the smile creeping across her face. 

Tobirama took in her silence with anxious eyes. It was clear that the burst of courage that had let him make such a bold statement had already run out. 

"Do you hate it?" he wondered.

"No. I like it," replied Sakura as she stood. "Let's go." 

Tobirama hurried to his feet. He took her hand, half-dragging her out of the room.

"Bye, Madara. Thanks," Sakura tossed over her shoulder. Like a hasty afterthought. Tobirama didn't even bother to say anything to him.

Madara’s tail nudged the empty glasses away from the edge of his desk. He picked up the decorative books to set the back on the shelf. “I wonder if I can get in trouble for being so damn nice,” he sighed. Before he drained the last few drops of brandy left at the bottom of the bottle.

Dinner with Tobirama was the right blend of awkward and exciting. Feet nudging under the table. Wine flowing into glasses. Until the fancy names on the labels blurred into each other. And it wasn’t like she was listening anyway. Not when Tobirama was in front of her. Sneaking secret smiles when she teased him.

She stayed the night at his apartment. But it was spent just sitting on the sofa and talking. Which helped Sakura realize that she knew so little about him. 

Tobirama talked about his three brothers, who she never would have guessed existed in a million years. He showed her the photos of him playing the violin as a little boy with chubby cheeks. He even tolerated her peals of laughter when she found photos of his old Halloween costumes. Especially the year he’d been a pumpkin. 

In turn, she told him about how her siblings would try to leave birthday presents for her signed ‘Mom’. How she had learned to recognize the forgeries from the way Hamura’s l’s curved to the left. And then she recalled what it’d been like moving to Empire City with so little. What it had taken- who it had taken to get to where she was today.

There was a moment when both of them ran out of things to say. And they just sat there. Dumb, half-buzzed smiles on their faces. Her foot resting on his ankle as they slumped on his dark grey sectional.

“Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?” she replied, eyes closed. Fingers tapping an idle rhythm on the cushioned seat.

“I really wanna make a song with you.”

Her eyes opened. “Right now?”

“Yeah. I already have a hook I’m thinking of.”

Sakura couldn’t tear her gaze from Tobirama as he hummed the melody for her. With the lapis lazuli around her neck, she knew she wasn’t being controlled by charm. Or glamour. Or whatever she wanted to call it.

This was just Tobirama. Stupid in-love with music. More dorky than hot as he began asking her opinions about reverb. And it was like he was someone else. Leather jacket discarded on the kitchen island. Just a guy in a t-shirt with a chord diagram tattooed on the inside of his left wrist. Hair falling flat against his forehead because he had run his fingers through it so much that it didn’t stand up anymore.

Shaking her head, Sakura laughed at him. 

“What? No reverb?”

“Reverb is good. All the reverb you want, Tobirama,” she giggled, giving his thigh a light kick.

He offered to drive her home in the morning. Half-asleep, he roused from the end of the sofa when he heard her digging through the hall closet for an unopened toothbrush. Tobirama gave up when she reminded him that she had driven them. Sakura promised to drive his car down to him sometime next week. But he was already sleeping before she finished her sentence. She brewed plenty of coffee before she locked the door and slipped out of his apartment. 

Kakashi greeted her as soon as she crossed over the town’s limits. She let her car roll to a stop as she lowered the windows. The air conditioning was blasting despite the early hour. It was going to be a humid day. Even Kakashi’s fur seemed puffier than usual as he walked up to her. His tongue lolling out.

“Hey, Sheriff. Got a sec?” she greeted, leaning out the window. 

Even though she’d seen him complain to Tsunade and to Ino that phasing wasted too much energy, Kakashi didn’t hesitate. His black, smoky body stretched upwards. When the black wisps cleared, Kakashi was resting his elbow on the roof of her car. 

“I’ve got a couple, actually,” he quipped in return. 

 “Let’s go for a drive. I wanna talk to you about some stuff.”

Kakashi’s smile faded. “Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?” he asked. Only half-joking. 

“....No. If anything... I might be... ugh, just... please,” Sakura said, pointing at the passenger seat. 

Kakashi studied her face for a moment. And then he reached in through the window to ruffle her hair. 

“Tell you what... you look hungry. How about we go to my place, I make you waffles, and then you tell me what’s bothering you?” he suggested instead. Sakura’s lower lip stuck out a little.

“You might not want to feed me waffles after I tell you,” she warned. But Kakashi still walked around the hood of the car to hop into the passenger seat. He flashed a smile as he closed the door behind him. “That’s why I’m feeding you before,” he answered.

The smell of smoke often raised alarm bells in a heavily-wooded town like Old Pines. But in the case of a real emergency, the weres would’ve been the first to raise the alarm. Their panicked howls filling the air- day or night. 

On this particular day, the weres were loud. But for a different reason.

“Are you crazy? You can’t just throw the steaks on now, kiddo!” Kiba exclaimed.

“Why not? It’s hot, isn’t it?” his nephew retorted. 

“Sure, if you like undercooked steaks, go right ahead! Next you’ll pour ketchup directly on the fries,” grumbled Kiba. 

“Oh, come on, Uncle. I’m not an animal.”

Kiba chuckled at that. He reached over and ruffled his hair. “I’m gonna go see if there’s anything else. Don’t throw those on the grill until it’s nice and hot. Give it about five minutes,” Kiba instructed as he headed up the steps. He crossed through the mudroom and down the hall.

“Woah. What smells so good?” asked Kiba, walking into the kitchen. Bull immediately barreled into him, stumpy tail wagging. He fell on his ass, but he gave a good-natured laugh as he patted Bull.

“Bacon,” answered Kakashi from behind the stove. He wore a black apron that said ‘I just want to pet my dogs’ in big, white letters. 

“Nice,” Kiba said, sniffing at the air again. 

“I’m putting it in a salad and pretending it’s healthy,” Kakashi then added.

“Less nice,” Kiba amended, wrinkling his nose. He glanced around the otherwise empty kitchen. “Any word from the others?” 

“Ino and Tenten are on their way with dessert. Your sister should be here soon,” Kakashi told him. He turned the burner off. Tossed his spatula into the sink.

Kiba noticed the cardboard box sitting next to the kitchen island. He peeked inside and found shawls in a rainbow of colors and packages of wood chips. He lifted one to his nose and let out a noise of surprise. The fragrance of the bacon had masked the floral, smoky scent. “From?”

“Kisame. Says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it,” answered Kakashi. He jiggled the contents of the pan once before he turned off the heat. 

“Man. Jaws always sends the weirdest shit. Where’s he this time? Dubai?” remarked Kiba. The box also included photos of the treasure hunter, grinning as he held up battered vases and water-logged chests filled with coins. Kakashi nodded as he wiped his hands clean on a towel. 

Bull butted Kiba’s shoulder, whining. “Aw, sorry, big boy. C’mere,” Kiba cooed. He rubbed Bull’s ears a few times. But there was a kissing noise from further in the house, and the dog abandoned him without a second thought. 

“You’re a damn traitor, Bull!” Kiba called after him. And then he looked up when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Kakashi held his hand out to him. Kiba thanked him as Kakashi pulled him to his feet.

They glanced around the house. Kiba’s ears twitching a little as he listened for noise. There was something. A faint sound pulling from the back of the house.

Last summer, Kiba and his crew had spent a few months adding on to the modest cabin. It now extended further into the back, including a mudroom to store shoes, gardening equipment, and the hydroponic herb garden Kiba had given to Sakura for her birthday. 

As they walked through the mudroom, they saw Shiba and Pakkun napping next to a cool vent. Kakashi nudged Pakkun with his big toe as he passed. The pug snorted, but didn’t move. He chuckled.

“There are studies that show that Mozart is good for a baby’s development,” they heard Itachi say.

Kiba and Kakashi exchanged knowing looks. “There he goes again. Next he’s going to insist that we buy that stupid baby wipe-warmer thing,” sighed Kiba. Kakashi elbowed him, whispering, “Be nice.”

They opened the door to find Sakura sitting in the armchair by the window. Her cheek in her hand. A mildly-amused expression gracing her lips. Bull lolled near the door, while Biscuit had managed to worm his way under Sakura’s chair. 

Itachi sat on the white and grey rug, legs crossed. In his lap sat a bluetooth speaker. The box and instruction manual lay beside it. 

Tobirama sat next to Sakura, his elbow resting on her lap. Which seemed to be shrinking each day. On his right upper arm, covered in plastic wrap, was his most recent tattoo. It was of a compass, the black arrow pointing north. Sighing, he let his head fall back, against Sakura’s stomach. When he stared up at her, she simply raised her eyebrows. In a sort of ‘what are you gonna do’ expression.

“Are you seriously.... trying to tell.... Sirens... what kind of music is best?” Tobirama spelled out. Slowly. Patiently.

Itachi froze. “Oh my god. I sound like an asshole,” he realized.

“Mm... yeah,” Sakura had to agree. Shaking his head, Itachi began laughing. And Tobirama even chuckled a little too. He noticed Kiba and Kakashi enter the room and nodded at them.

“I feel like you're spending more time here than anywhere else,” remarked Kakashi, crossing his arms. He leaned against the doorway. Kiba nudged past him. He crossed the room in a few big steps before he knelt in front of her. Tobirama moved his arm so that Kiba could put his hands on Sakura’s growing stomach. 

“It’s pretty. And so much light gets in here,” Sakura replied. “And that tickles,” she scolded, poking Kiba in the forehead.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just... sounds crazy in there. The heartbeat, I mean,” Kiba apologized, pulling away. He left his hands on her stomach though. 

“I’m still not sure about the color. Maybe we should’ve gone with something more green,” Kakashi remarked, looking around.

“He did a great job. I love the color,” Sakura insisted. The walls were a mellow, peachy shade. Kiba had spent hours on his hands and knees, sanding every inch of the floor to make sure that there were no splinters. The window frames gleamed white in the afternoon sun. The double-panes would make sure to keep the room toasty in the winter and cool in the summer.

“I don’t really see how this is supposed to be gender neutral,” Kiba wondered, not for the first time. He had voiced the same concerns as he painted the walls.

“Who cares? It’s pretty,” Tobirama scoffed. 

Kiba and Kakashi froze at the same time. Kakashi sniffed once at the air.

“What’s done?” Kiba asked him, twisting around to look at him.

“The cheese cornbread,” answered Kakashi. And then the oven timer went off, as if to support him.

“I’ll get it. You savages’ll eat half of it before it hits the table,” Kiba sighed. He grunted as he got to his feet. He knocked his shoulder into Kakashi’s on his way out of the door. They snickered at each other.

They chatted for a little while longer. Just enjoying the quiet. Because soon, they wouldn’t have time to relax like this. Tobirama took Sakura’s hand as she spoke. She had complained so many times about them swelling, so he found  time to massage them every once in a while. He wasn’t particularly skilled, but it made her smile all the same.

Kakashi broke off mid-sentence, eyes darting around. Which meant that someone else had arrived. The front door banged open. Hidan yelled, “The party’s here!” And then Hidan swore once, likely as Madara slapped him with his tail. 

“Hello? We brought non-alcoholic beer and sparkling cider. And, unfortunately, we brought Hidan too,” Madara called.

“Sorry about that!” Temari added.

“We should’ve brought a gift receipt,” snorted Kakuzu, making his friends laugh. 

“Fuck you guys! You’re a bunch of fucking assholes!” complained Hidan. Heaving a sigh, Tobirama got to his feet. Sakura squeezed his hand once before she released him. Raking his hand through his hair, Tobirama strode out of the room. Sakura glimpsed Shiba rolling onto his feet as Tobirama walked past. Tail wagging as he followed him down the hall.

“Hidan, watch your mouth. The kid’s going to end up sounding like you,” she could hear Tobirama warn, voice growing farther and farther away.

“Hey! Can we get something out here for the steaks? Where should I put them?” Kiba’s nephew suddenly inquired. 

“I’ll handle it,” Itachi announced before anyone else could budge. He pushed the bluetooth speaker to the side. Putting a hand on either side of Sakura’s head, he kissed her forehead. Giggling, she pushed him away, saying, “Go.”

Kakashi still lingered in the doorway. He was still smiling as he watched her.

“I’d be a bad hostess if I stayed holed up in here all night. Help me up?” she requested. 

Kakashi eased her to her feet. His hands lingered on her waist. Her center of gravity had shifted so much in the last few months. Sometimes it took a moment to find her balance. And even when she was steady on her feet, his hands stayed there.

“I feel like a whale,” she sighed. 

“Well, then call me Ishmael,” he quipped in return. That made her laugh as he wrapped his arms around her. And she stopped laughing when she caught him staring at her again. That same smile on his face, like he was half-in a dream. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” she wondered.

“Oh. No reason. Just basking in all the glory of holding a beautiful woman who I love very much,” he retorted. Sleepy eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Why? Is there a problem with that?” he then questioned.

“No. No problem at all. Carry on,” she answered, pulling him in for a kiss.

End

[general-loki]

Unlucky Gambler Chapter 3

Title: Unlucky Gambler

Chapter 3: Imagine Opening the Door

Series: Fate Grand Order / Unlimited Blade Works

Pairing: Lancer Cu Chulainn / Archer Emiya

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mild sexual content, language, friends with benefits situation (basically for now)

Summary:  The next Rayshift leaves Archer and Lancer to focus on the mission before them, but Archer maybe focuses a little too much.

(Forgive me for reposting but I got my blog back!)

You can read the rest this chapter and more on AO3 here. 

Or continue below.

It felt like the next Rayshift came quickly. There was just enough time to enjoy some of limited comforts of Chaldea HQ before the next Singularity became clear and ultimately pulled them away. Lancer had a certain expectation when it came to seeing Masters wandering into strife--or causing it--and to see this young girl brave into only gods knew what gave him a sliver of pride, but also more work to do in the end. Mash and her dear senpai earned a few stripes in their last encounters; however, things would be ramping up from there. Just a feeling.

Lancer had a pretty good gut instinct, if he’d stop long enough to listen to it anyway.

The Rayshift took the group to Rome herself, glorious in picture but wedded in war. The lovely ruler of Rome they soon met left a familiar impression on him, but he wasn’t going to say what. There were more important troubles--namely waves and waves of warriors constantly hounding them and the Emperor’s troops. Lancer wasn’t all that keen on fighting non-servants, but somewhere at the end of the line would be the actual threats. They just had to get so far.

War like this had a way of lasting--stretching itself out ages longer than anyone would like. As a servant this hardly impacted his energy, but it did wear on his patience and nerves. Protecting their Master, Nero, the rest--it was sort of exhausting in a different way. When they did have evenings of rest or camping on the road, he found himself picking a spot away and getting some rest outside any of the other comforts that could be offered in such a case.

It felt strange to be able to guess this much, but he figured Archer was doing the same.

They had been in contact since that first time they made their deal, but not any deeper so. Lancer caught Archer once or twice almost waiting around for such a chance and took it back at Chaldea, but as soon as they were deployed things shifted.

The battlefield wasn’t really the place he’d typically get into this kind of game.

And yet.

And yet it irked him. Not even a teasing word or a moment of play with this guy. Archer looked as stoic as always on the field--too good to pass him much more than a glance. As much as Lancer gave him hell for it, Archer really did pick off enemies he didn’t himself, backing him up with a well placed shot here and there; a dive to the rescue now and then.

Whatever the hell that expressed--instead of using words like a normal person.

It plucked at his nerves. Lancer got this odd feeling it was on purpose. Eventually Archer was going to play him into whatever his hand was and they would wind up somewhere. Right into paranoia about it and resting in camps alone--if that were any good for a plan at least.

After a particularly lengthy series of battles the party camped out on the road, human soldiers too resting in their tents and attending to all the things an army must. While Mash and Ritsuka were socializing with some of the rest, Lancer let himself wander the camp and look over the work being done. Standing out as a servant he was used to, but here most were so busy they hardly paid him any mind.

Somewhere in the sea of swaying tents and campfires he spotted a familiar flash of red. Despite himself, he followed after that glimpse--weaving between soldiers and spears to try and find where in the waves that man had gone. After nearly tripping over a stray rope, Lancer picked up his pace, legs carrying him faster around milling soldiers and packs of supplies. He wasn’t sure how he missed Archer even in all this, but he seemed to have just vanished. Right as he slowed, ready to let it be a hallucination, he felt a grasp sudden and tight at his forearm.

Immediately he tried to jerk away only to find the grip tighter still, coming from the open flap of the tent he’d crossed in front of. In only the edge of sunset cast over the field it was hard to see at first, but he soon realized who had a hold of him. Quietly he stepped into the tent, led by the arm, letting the flap of the tent fall behind him. It left him in near dark with the man who had led him around.

They traded barely seen glares for a moment before Lancer opened his mouth first.

“Have yourself some fun that way?”

Archer cracked a small chuckle, eventually shuffling in the dark a moment before getting a candle lit. With the light under his face it brightened and shaded his features in a stark way--ominous and yet endearing with that sort of crooked almost-smile. “I couldn’t think of a better way to avoid drawing attention to us,” Archer said, sounding the slightest bit amused.

Lancer took a step back, his arm now free to be crossed over his chest with the other. “You got something to say to me you can’t in front of the rest, huh?”

There was a flash of surprise on Archer’s face--one quickly covered with a more serious look heightened by the flickering fire under his chin. “Something like that. The timing was never right.”

The phrasing of that caught Lancer’s attention. He’d been joking of course, and maybe it was just the darkness and that single light between them, but something seemed actually serious in that moment. Lancer tilted his head aside, like the look would spur Archer to go on, but he didn’t in a very timely manner so he answered. “Well, we’re alone now. Tell it to me.”

A silence filled the space, like everything going on outside the tent had stilled too. Archer sat back on a crate in the corner, light unwavering in his hand. He glanced aside, like he would find the words he was looking for there before turning that gaze back on Lancer.

“Do you think this master will be fine?” Archer asked in a hushed tone.

It took Lancer a few seconds to recover from how badly he misjudged the mood. This wasn’t exactly about the two of them at all. Then again, he couldn’t exactly be mad. Archer was awfully doting with this master--maybe that was just how he was dealing with all this. Distant, until he was asked for and seemingly trusted by Ritsuka. She seemed to have won him over rather quickly, considering how standoffish Archer could be at times. Then again, she probably warranted the worrying--this was a lot for a single young lady.

Lancer let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head. “I’m not a fortune teller here. I don’t know how she’s gonna do. But she’s handling it well enough so far. You’ve been hanging around more. You tell me.”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon to find Archer in the Chaldea kitchen at this point. Every so often he made something to treat Ritsuka and some of the other servants. It kept spirits up and it seemed to put Archer somewhat more at ease too. It was more in the sort of element he looked healthier in. Surrounded by those appreciating him for something other than the skills he would typically be summoned for. In a way, beneath that surface, Archer was almost too normal compared to some of his counterparts. Like a stronger thread of humanity held tight and too close in his heart. The space between the two of them felt wider for a moment, Lancer watching Archer’s face in the low light as he contemplated his answer.

“I think she’s capable. Even with lacking skills in many areas she has something about her. The way other servants and outstanding people of the places we’ve been deployed to treat her… I don’t know what to call that quality,” Archer admitted.

“Then why are you worrying? Whatever it is, it’s taking her somewhere. Wherever that is, we’re gonna be there anyway, right?” Lancer found himself answering without thinking too hard. It just felt natural off the end of his tongue.

Some of the shaded worry over Archer’s features fell to something like mild surprise. Like he couldn’t necessarily be offended with the simplicity of it all, and yet here he was.

“You don’t question what that is or where this goes?” Archer asked back with his gaze finally fixed on Lancer’s.

Lancer shrugged one shoulder. “How can I? This is a hell of a lot bigger than just one Grail War. The scale’s huge. I’m better off focusing on what I can do.”

“And what can you do in that case, Lancer?”

The question wasn’t an expected one. Maybe one lingering on Lancer’s mind, but not one he anticipated having so directly. Thinking too hard on the answer would just make it more difficult. Going with the flow of things felt better. “If I’m summoned someone probably needs my spear. She can just point me where she needs me, and rest easy if I’m on watch. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

“And it will somehow work out all fine if you do that?” Archer said with a more pointed look.

Lancer took a few steps closer, placing his hand on Archer’s shoulder. “I can’t know that. But I do know that’s what I feel like doing. And how I fit in with this mess. Whatever kind of mess it turns out being. Aren’t you doing the same thing?”

“Essentially...that may be the case,” Archer was willing to admit.

“You’re worrying too much then. Act in the heat of the moment, sort out the details when it makes sense,” Lancer suggested, patting Archer’s shoulder once, just to help drive it in. He didn’t seem much less tense for it, but it was still something--however slight.

The look on Archer’s face turns somewhat annoyed and yet in a way there’s almost some affection in his tone. Perhaps he didn’t want to be read so easily, even as he spoke. “You take these things so lightly. But you don’t seem stressed. Even with so many other Servants around.”

Lancer shrugged, a crooked grin on his face. “Sure, more people to split the work with. Not that I couldn’t handle it, but you don’t mind having a break here and there, do you?”

“I’m on guard anyway. It hardly makes a difference.”

At that Lancer steps in closer, too close for a casual conversation between two simply talking of battle. The hand at Archer’s shoulder shifts down and rests at his hip, the touch enough to jolt Archer into looking more closely at Lancer’s eyes. The pair exchanged looks for a short moment, all still while the shift in tone settled over them.

“You’re not so on guard you’re shaking me off,” Lancer points out in a lower voice, leaning in a touch closer. Archer certainly wasn’t pushing him away, but he did tilt his face away from his lips to avoid temptation a moment longer. Through that, Archer cycled through a pair of expressions, at first surprise then annoyance. They did this little song and dance number nearly every time they physically got near each other and yet Archer was still sort of terrible at it.

“‘She’s with the others’ or maybe ‘Just a minute longer,’ right?” Lancer said through a toothy grin, this time at least not imitating Archer’s voice as he put words in his mouth.  

It has only grown darker outside, leaving them mostly lit by the candlelight Archer had set aside behind himself. Even in light so low, he could see the warmer color in Archer’s eyes as he started to consider changing his mind. There was just a look he had, like he were softening ever so slightly to whatever idea Lancer had next. Some affection for it had built up in Lancer’s thoughts as Archer ran over that cycle a bit more than usual. Here there was more to worry about, battles on the horizon, and plenty of prying people around, however in the end he seemed to make his choice well enough.

“Only this once. So you aren’t pouting around between battles,” Archer said like this made some sort of sense.

“What pouting? Who’s pouting?” Lancer started to ask but his companion soon had his arms around his waist and his lips pressed at his jawline like it were a test of how little it might take to shut him up. He elected to talk through it, even as Archer kissed up from the end of his chin making his way toward his ear.

“It isn’t pouting, for the record, you know,” Lancer carried on somewhat awkwardly.

“Brooding then,” Archer replied before pressing his lips gently at Lancer’s cheek.

“Me? The broody one? That’s you.”

“You looked the part, sitting alone away from everyone like that.”

It took a second for Lancer to work that out, paused as Archer’s hand made way for his hip in a slow stroke down.

“You were watching, but couldn’t be assed to say hi.”

“You never want just a greeting.”

“You have time to talk to me.”

The back and forth continued, even as Archer reached more toward Lancer’s rear, his grip almost too obvious and too ready. That naked desire almost did enough to grasp Lancer’s thoughts away but not quite. He gave Archer an expectant look following his last remark, more serious despite the heat starting to build up between them. Archer read that face clearly enough and relaxed his hand somewhat more chastely at Lancer’s waist.

“I wouldn’t like anyone prying into this. Our Master has enough to deal with,” he answered firmly.

“It’s between us. Besides, everyone knows we already know each other. You don’t have to pretend I’m some new face to you, right?” Lancer suggested, hopefully getting to the root of the issue.

Archer let out a sigh, his head lowered a little. “I suppose they do know that. It’s only my preference that this… whatever this is doesn’t interfere with our work.”

“Then don’t let it. You know, for a guy who likes to motherhen everyone else, you kind of terrible with your own responsibilities,” Lancer said with a short laugh.

“I’m perfectly responsible,” Archer answered briskly, not insulted but unwavering in his assurance of that.

“You’re awful in a relationship,” Lancer laughed.

“This is no relationship,” Archer insisted anyway, looking less and less in his own element, his grip at Lancer’s side growing more tense despite that.

“Friends with benefits, yeah yeah. But at least be my friend here and there, come on now,” Lancer said with nothing but the intent to tease him further. He deserved at least that much. Lancer himself tried to take this whole deal between them as casually as he could. However, that call for a bit more company still echoed in his skull from time to time. He liked the other servants plenty and yet still he wanted to hear things out of Archer’s stupid mouth. Maybe being summoned here broke something in his head too.

Archer struggled clearly with that answer for a moment, his eyes searching the ground beside Lancer for an answer, like it might be there or simply that it was easier to avoid his gaze. Eventually, he spoke up in a quieter voice. “I don’t mind talking with you when we’re back in Chaldea but this is a battlefield, not a playground. I’m not here to have fun with you Lancer.”

Lancer shifted to point a finger at Archer’s hand still firmly at his waist. “Your body says otherwise.”

The look on Archer’s face shifted from almost cool to completely embarrassed with him, cheeks burning and all. “You started this…”

“You did. You pulled me into this tent. Alone.”

Next came a groan out of Archer, his shame enough that he lowered his head, resting his forehead directly on Lancer’s shoulder. The move shocked Lancer enough that he didn’t pester him right away, leaving him to seemingly soak in his own embarrassment. There was something oddly intimate about this touch that struck Lancer as automatically he pat his hand at Archer’s back soothingly. Before being sent on a mission again, they had mostly fired each other up, wound up blowing the other, and mocking it off. It was odd how that was sort of normal, but this felt too exposed.

“I’m… tempted at times to do more than greet you,” Archer admitted in a lowered voice after a short period of silence.

“So you just skip on it all together?”

“That seemed the responsible thing to do given our situation here.”

Lancer gave it a moment of thought before just saying whatever popped into his head like usual. “Didn’t want to be caught in an alarm with your hands down my pants huh?”

Archer raised his head, giving Lancer a dead-eyed look. “Remind me again why I’m supposed to even want your company?”

As always, Lancer just laughed it off, unbothered all over again. As cute was Archer was wallowing there he couldn’t exactly keep him down forever. With a little more space between them now he should shift position, his hand going to hold gently at Archer’s chin, making sure their eyes met properly this time. Despite himself, there was affection in his tone, however small.

“You wanted to see me, didn’t you? Maybe you know better than I do,” Lancer suggested with a lowered voice. As cool as he might have played it, he found himself starting to swim a little in Archer’s eyes--silvery and sharp at times, but relaxing to a warm gray as the pair remained close.

“I don’t know,” Archer was willing to admit given some time. A shame too, his gaze turned away after he spoke again. Lancer leaned in just a hair closer, just enough to purposefully draw him back.

“Do what you want to sometimes, not what you have to. Even if you don’t know why you want to, come see me anyway,” Lancer said low on breath, watching carefully for how that suggestion might land.

“What happened to chastising me for being irresponsible?” Archer answered after a moment, more actively watching Lancer in return.

Lancer’s lips split into a wide grin, terribly amused at how well he knew his own answer. “Be irresponsible with me now and then. Feel it out, find a space between work and hovering over her to let yourself go for a minute. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Even if it feels good it isn’t necessarily the right thing to do.”

“But you wanna do it anyway, right?”

Archer’s expression soured somewhat as he eyed Lancer, not rushing to answer this time. Lancer couldn’t tell if he was buying into it yet or not. As cool as Archer tried to act about all this Lancer started to get concerned that maybe he wasn’t so good at even a casual relationship. He sort of anticipated something like that getting himself into this mess, but now that he was here he noticed more and more of the wear in Archer’s armor. It led him to about one conclusion:

Archer was absolutely hopeless in a relationship.

The man himself let out a long sigh, closing his eyes and drawing his face away from Lancer’s grasp. Lancer let him go--assuming the worst at this point. He expected their fun to take a backseat to their work, he was efficient in that sort of way himself, but he was feeling a little more like he was tossed in the trunk at this point.

“I’ll do it,” Archer said a bit suddenly in their silence.

It startled Lancer enough he didn’t reply right away--instead watching Archer and expecting a “but” or some other qualifier. But none came.

“You’ll do it? Just like that?”

Archer nodded. “You’re asking. I can pull back. I should. This fight isn’t all mine alone in the first place. It isn’t mine to carry.”

Lancer found himself staring in disbelief. Rather than let Archer’s hard-thought answer be left that way he catches his arms around him again, laughing a little. “There you go. Relax here and there. They’d all tell you the same thing you know.”

There came a smaller sigh this time from Archer, a very slim smile on his face. “I can’t exactly deny that.”

“You wouldn’t be modeling yourself as much of a big brother to them if you burn yourself out,” Lancer teased despite attempts to clamp that down. He couldn’t help himself.

“I’m not trying to be anyone’s big brother,” Archer grumbled, but did still put his arms around Lancer in return. They hadn’t exactly done well at just holding one another, but now that Lancer was here he was comfortable--oddly. He didn’t want to be too obvious so only lets himself hold that little bit more tightly. Just a little. Only a short, simple, yet intimate touch. On a basic level--stupidly basic--it felt good to be held.

“Archer,” Lancer started, unfinished.

A low rumble in response was all Archer bothered with.

“When no one’s looking, you know, you can do this whenever.”

“Whenever then,” Archer murmured, seeming to actually agree without a fuss.

“Yeah,” was all Lancer felt like saying, muffled as he tucked in closer and kissed Archer’s neck just below his ear. It was just an idle touch, something small, but this close Lancer could feel a very light shiver up over the other’s body. He might have caught him unprepared or he hadn’t quite cooled down from earlier. Either way he found it in himself to easily ruin a slightly more tender moment without much remorse.

“I can give you more than that right now, if you want,” he offered. Part of him started to worry he would have to be more blunt, but he found Archer’s lips on his own in a second flat. What seemed to be a spur of the moment kiss, Archer parted from it quickly only to try again as Lancer was more ready for him this time. They met more evenly this time, pressing closer and deeper, faster than Lancer anticipated. They split again only for a breath this time as Archer met his lips again, this time his tongue meeting the other’s. Somehow he wasn’t expecting so much so suddenly from Archer like this, but maybe that agreement between them opened something up. He did advise him to go for more of what he wanted--this could have been it.

It didn’t feel bad to be wanted after all.

The next time their lips parted Archer let out a longer, more heated breath--his eyes a little more clouded with that sort of stormy look, like he could dive back in at any second. Lancer felt his own breath catch to see him like this--a view behind a locked door he could almost imagine swinging wide on its hinges some day. He ached to unravel Archer completely, to get a the very heart of that expression and drive Archer so far into it he couldn’t get back out. The second it got a little too hot between them Lancer caught himself clawing for extremes in a rush and yet all he could bring himself to do outwardly was grasp at Archer’s back and push him closer up against himself as their lips met again, tongues searching the other deeper.

Maybe that was just getting lost in the moment. Maybe that was all.

Archer let out a low rumble as Lancer’s hand found a place at his hip, fingers toying for his waist, to pull at clothing. It didn’t really matter where or what at this point--he was intent on having a little more. Archer seemed to be on the same page, his hand finally just going for Lancer’s rear like he’d obviously wanted to earlier.

Hands worked faster and hotter over the other, each feeling more of the other even as clothing got in the way. It was doubtless coming next.

“Cu Chulainn!!”

The sound of his name made him freeze, Archer doing the exact time--either of them wide eyed. Lancer’s shoulders tensed as he heard the call again--the voice obviously Ritsuka’s.

“You haven’t checked in today have you,” Archer whispered at him accusingly.

“What? I have to that often?” Lancer muttered back in an equally low and quiet voice for their safety. He’d nearly gotten Archer’s pants down and he was quite obviously ready for that much.

“Of course you have to; it’s dangerous not to account for every servant,” Archer continued in the same almost nagging tone.

Lancer swore and pulled away from Archer’s grasp, running a hand up through his hair like it might help him cool off. He paces the length of the tent a couple times, trying to will himself to cool off. Archer watched him, also sort of flustered still leaned up against the crate behind him and frozen in place.

There was another call of his name and this time Lancer took a calmer breath. His face still felt warm but he could work with that. Clear he was going to split, Archer straightened up and gave him a look that was hard to read in the dark.

“I’ll find you later...Another time,” Archer decided for them.

Lancer nodded and reached for the tent’s flap. “Later, Archer,” he said, letting that be somewhat final.

“Later,” was Archer’s answer in agreement, even if he did seem a fair bit put off by all this.

It happened. What could be done anyway? Lancer let it be, sneaking out of the tent and looking around for Ritsuka. He spots the young master soon enough, her sunset colored hair hard to miss even in a place this crowded. He hurried up to her side, laughing slightly.

“Thought I heard something. What’s going on, Master?” he asked just as casually as he might.

She tilted her head and gave him a long, concerned look. “Are you alright? I hadn’t seen you since we were in combat earlier.”

Lancer gave her a lighter smile. “All fine here. Didn’t mean to worry you. How about I come check on you after any battle while we’re out here?”

Ritsuka nodded this time, giving him a small but tired smile in return. “I’d appreciate that. I kept seeing you alone before then too. If anything’s bothering you, you can come see me.”

For some reason Cu never expected himself to be one of the servants Ritsuka would be concerned with. His name spoke enough for him, didn’t it? He wasn’t a stranger to Holy Grail wars either--why was she so concerned then? It took him a second to realize she probably did this with all the servants and everyone else. No wonder a girl like Mash stuck so closely to her side. Despite the master’s lack of strength she took care of those around her. It felt oddly familiar.

“I was thinking through this whole mess. I think I’ve got it about sorted out now,” Cu answered honestly enough. It took a chat with Archer, but they seemed to have it hammer out now. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Another day though. Isn’t it pretty late?”

Ritsuka looked surprised before straightening up with a more serious face. “I was about to get some sleep, I just wanted to check first.”

“Then check no more. Get some rest, Master. You’re already working too hard,” Cu said more gently this time. “Take your breaks whenever you can get them. You never know in a situation like this.”

“You’re right...Thank you Cu. You rest well tonight,” she offered in return with a short wave. Cu found himself waving right back without much of a thought, trading a pair of “goodnights” before she took off to her own tent.

Once she was gone he let out a long sigh. It might have been relief or just some of that tiredness creeping up on him. Still, he left a thread hanging and had to see. When he returned to the tent Archer had pulled him into the bastard was already gone, leaving no sign he’d ever even been there.

“Later,” Lancer muttered to himself in reminder and took off to find a place to rest. Archer would cash in that “later” whenever he was damn well ready--there was just no telling when that would be. Part of him hoped it would be that night, but he wasn’t quite so lucky. Things in this mission picked up quickly leaving little time for such things, however important they were.

After one battlefield was cleared and all were headed back, Archer made a few casual strides Lancer’s way--like he only just happened to be passing that direction to rejoin the others. When no eyes were on them as they crossed he felt Archer’s fingers grasp his own, their hands weaving together almost naturally. The smoothness of it all brought Lancer to Archer’s pace--the pair walking together for what was only a short moment, but one that lingered on Lancer’s mind and skin for a long time yet.

[jadekitty777]

Doomsday Dinner Party

Ooooh, we’re starting to hit some of my personal favorites for the week! 

Day 3 – Best-Worst Date @taiqrowweek

Summary: The world might be over as they know it, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still time for a dinner date. [Zombie/Walking Dead AU]

Rating: T

Warnings: Just your typical things you’d expect in a zombie story – gore and lots of cussing.

Ao3 Link: Doomsday Dinner Party

~

“What’s all this?”

Tai looked up at the tall, lanky man who had just entered the room. He waved to the spread along the table like a game show host would when showing off a prize. “Dinner.”

“Yeah but what’s with the candles and the-” He looked around the table as if hoping to find something else to point out and just settled for repeating, “…candles?”

“Qrow, if you are about to tell me you have never been on a date before when you are the smoothest motherfucker I have ever known, I’m going to develop a complex.” Tai deadpanned.

The man barked a surprised laugh, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle some of it, but the wide grin stayed. “I think we’ve been hanging out too much if you’re starting to talk like me.”

“Your sense of humor is hilarious.” He retorted, pointing to the chair opposite him. “Now sit your ass down and eat.”

“Yes sir!” He saluted him before doing as told. He picked up his fork, looking down at the blue-trimmed plate.  To pretend the warmed up can of green beans and the strips of beef jerky was a feast by any measure of the word was so utterly absurd Qrow didn’t even bother joking about it as he carried on, “And you even dug out the good china and silverware! You really went all out. All for lil’ ol’ me?  What’s the occasion? Wait!” He mock gasped. “Please don’t tell me I forgot our anniversary.”

“Qrow this is our first date. Shut up already.” His tone was as dry as the Arizona desert, unamused at the other’s antics. He paused, then added hesitantly, “I just, wanted something normal. You know?”

The other speared some vegetables, expression bitter. “Nothing’s normal anymore.”

Tai looked away. “Yeah.”

There was a thick lull that settled, no other sound but a battery-powered clock that was miraculously still ticking. Qrow broke it with a sigh, “I’m being an ass again, aren’t I?”

“Lil’ bit.”

“Sorry.” He pointed finger-guns at him and winked, “Let me make it up to you tonight baby. I’ll rock your world.”

“Oh for the love of God. You’re the fucking worst.” Tai groaned.

“Since you’re like the only other person in a three-hundred mile radius, does that mean I get second place? Because, I gotta say, that’s actually a step up for me.”

He couldn’t decide if the joke was in bad taste or not, but it was so left field he couldn’t help but chuckle, if only because Qrow’s eternal insufferableness still managed to be endearing. He wasn’t the only other person in a three-hundred mile radius – or at least he hoped he wasn’t. It was hard to say if they just hadn’t seen anyone else because they weren’t staying in one place for very long or if just that few people had survived once the real fallout began.

The news of a chemical bomb striking Canada in early September had hit overnight and by that morning, Tai was being called to arms for the national crisis. He barely had time to think as he packed up some of the girls’ clothes and toys and dropped them off with his ex-wife. “It’ll be just a few weeks. I’ll be home in time for Christmas.” He had told them just before he drove off to the nearest military airport in central Texas.

Christmas was months ago.

The attack had been without provocation and even if the source was ever determined, his platoon had never been told. At first, his only assignment was to provide immediate relief to surviving victims – but upon arrival, he’d found himself in a warzone. No one knew what to make of it. It was like a nightmare as they were overwhelmed by a force they hadn’t been prepared to fight.

The dead just… coming back to life. The bodies of former comrades rising from the ground, mindless and hungry before they turned on them. If one was lucky, either they killed it or were killed. If one was unlucky and only got bit, then it was days of suffering as the body overran with the volatile sickness that had people running high-grade fevers and coughing up blood. By the time they had figured anything out, so many were already gone – and it only grew worse as information of in-home attacks started coming in. The chemicals had poisoned the air and spread across the states and into Mexico. Hospitals and morgues were overrun within days and, soon, entire towns.

Tai could still hear Summer’s terrified cries as he gave her directions to a military encampment and told her to take the girls and stay there. Gave promises he doubted he could keep that he would come get them. Choked down his own sobs when he told his girls, maybe for the last time, how much he loved them.

He tried to reach Raven as well, but his ex-girlfriend never answered. He left the information on her machine anyways, praying she got it but fearing it was already too late.

After a month, the blackouts started. Reports stopped coming in. Within another week, people started to desert. He followed his own squad as far as the Montana border and that was about when General Ironwood, sounding a little unhinged, started talking plans about storming the Pentagon. For what reason, he never made clear, but that was all Tai needed to hear to know it was time to set out on his own. He tried to invite Winter along, knowing his lieutenant was desperate to head to California where her own family was but, for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, she declined, leaving him only her blessings.

Getting out of just Montana took weeks; the streets were crowded with abandoned cars and being forced to avoid towns with large populations was making him take detour after detour. It was shortly after the ground was dusting with the season’s thicker snowfall that he found himself in a department store, desperately searching for something, anything, to eat. What greeted him instead was a grand ol’ view of some guy’s pale ass while he slipped on a pair of “free” boxers in the middle of an aisle.

That was how he met Qrow.

They bonded over a pack of Oreos and some Snapple. As it turned out, they were both headed the same way. Qrow had an estranged twin sister he hadn’t seen in years but knew had been living in Wichita Falls. “It’s appropriate, since she’s a witch herself” He had jeered. Apparently, the two had been split up when their parents divorced and they hadn’t kept close contact over the years. When Tai asked why he’d seek her out at all, the other man just shrugged and looked away, his gaze dark. “Nothing else for me here.”

He didn’t ask any more questions after that.

“Gotta say,” Qrow’s voice brought him back to the present. He was eyeing some of the candles that were burning brightly on the kitchen counter. “I know I’m being a bit of jerk about it but, this is actually kind of nice.”

He smiled happily though he couldn’t resist teasing, “That’s only making me worry more that this really is your first date.”

“Of course not. Just, I always had a bit of trouble keeping my relationships long term. My longest was maybe a year and then I just started to purposely distance myself until Oz got fed up and walked.” He scratched the end of his nose, looking both a mixture of amused and sheepish. “According to my old AA coach, aside from all the rampant drinking, I also have a bad habit of sabotaging myself due to my insecurities. Purposely avoiding calls and being late. Picking fights just because. That sort of thing. It was part of my ‘recovery’ to work on it.” He rolled his shoulders some, “But obviously, I still do it.”

“You’re not that bad.” Tai reassured. After a moment, he snorted and added, “Actually, you’re no worse than me really. I tend to rush things. I was jumping into bed with Rae without asking all the important questions. She never wanted to be a mom, but I didn’t find that out until after she was pregnant with Yang.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his face flushing with embarrassment. “And with Summer, I somehow was even worse. I proposed after we were only together six months. So when she just told me one morning she wanted a divorce because she wasn’t happy with me, well… that was a hell of a blow. I told myself next time I’d do it right and take things slow.” He looked across the table, waving between them, thinking of the various nights they had lain together. “Instead, I’ve upgraded to pulling off the clothes before the first date.”

“Wow, we’re perfect for each other.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Qrow chuckled, popping a strip of jerky in his mouth and saying around it, “To be fair, there’s not much opportunity to do anything slow right now.”

“Nor is self-improvement a high priority when you’re constantly running for your life.” He countered. He had to wonder what it said about both of them that, despite knowing those things, they were still making an effort regardless.

“For what it’s worth,” Qrow said as he set his fork down, “If I have to walk through this hell on earth, I-”

He never got to finish before the sound of a siren loudly going off jolted them both to their feet. They stared at one another with wide eyes, before they hurried to peer out the kitchen window. They had holed up in a small, fenced in home that was part of the rural district on the north side of town. They hadn’t bothered to waste energy clearing the streets, so they could see how the straggling dead were lifting their heads and starting to stumble down the street.

Tai turned his head some, listening to the pulsing drones that echoed across the town. “Is that… the tornado siren?”

“How is it even going off?”

He shook his head. “They have back-up power for emergencies. Maybe something malfunctioned?” Or someone was setting it off intentionally, though he couldn’t fathom the reason why if that were the case. “Either way, that’s gonna attract a lot of attention if it keeps up.”

Qrow took a few steps back, frowning. “Then we need to leave, now.” He turned, heading for the den where their stuff was. “Can’t get a damn bit of sleep like this.”

Tai glanced out at the darkness warily, not really liking the idea of traveling at night. But knowing the alternative could be worse if they got caught in an unexpected horde, he blew out the candles and joined the other in gathering their things. They searched the house one last time for any last provisions they could scrounge up and poured the melted wax from the candles before packing them up too. Most of the lumbering dead had made it to the street corner by the time they stepped outside and the jarring noise of the alert and the thickness of the summer’s heat and humidity pressed down on them.

Tai pulled open the gate while Qrow started the car, the roar of the engine gearing up being lost to the siren’s call. He hopped into the passenger seat, saying, “Looks like they’re heading towards the center of town.”

“Then we know where we’re not going.” He backed the car up, heading up the street. “Alright navigator, which way should we go?”

“Go left. We should avoid the main street.” Tai said, turning on the overhead light and unfolding their map. He ran his finger down the blue trail lines. Even though the 44 was a straight shot into Wichita, they definitely wanted to avoid going through Lawton. “If we keep going down this way, eventually we’ll hit a road that crosses into the 17. We can follow it up to Sterling and stay there for the night. It’s mostly just countryside from here to there. Should only take an hour or so.”

The other nodded, leaning back some as he drove with one hand. Tai could have believed he was entirely relaxed, if not for the white-knuckled grip he had on the wheel. “Sounds good to me.”

He clicked the light back off and settled back as well. With no street lamps and the moon barely a crescent, there wasn’t much to see. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; without all the light pollution, the sky was littered with more stars then he’d ever seen in his entire life. Clusters upon clusters of them that shaded the sky in a dark sapphire blue and the barest hint of violet nebula clouds that he’d taken to admiring during times when they were holed up and safe. Sometimes Qrow would join him and they’d huddle under a shared blanket as they tried to pretend they knew anything about constellations.

“They’re not all dragons Tai.”

“Oh fine.” He moved his finger in a few wide arcs.

“What are you making?”

“A crow. The dragon needs a meal after all.”

“I can’t decide if you’re trying to scare me or seduce me.”

After a few minutes, they were already out of the small town and into nothing but miles of dark fields on either side. Qrow was keeping their speed tempered so they could avoid any potential hazards. Still, Tai tried to stay alert, knowing they could come upon something at a moment’s notice whether it be an abandoned vehicle or a shambling body. It was why he didn’t miss something shifting in the dark and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“I see it.” Qrow murmured softly, the headlights illuminating the form of a deteriorating body that was reaching out for them before he swerved carefully around it.

A few feet later, there was a small group of about three that they also drove around. When they hit another cluster, this one a little bigger, Tai felt tension coiling within him, gripping his own knee tightly. “Qrow…”

His partner shifted forward, gripping onto the wheel with both hands now, “Maybe we – fuck!” The tires screeched as he slammed on the brakes.

Tai caught himself on the dashboard as momentum jerked him forward, heart stuttering to a stop at the sight of the massive horde now illuminated in their headlights. They came lurching towards the car, the sound of their snarls loud over the hum of the engine, a few hands banging onto the hood.

Beside him, Qrow cursed again as he fumbled for the gear shift, throwing them into reverse. “HOLD ON!” Tires screeched as he hit the gas pedal hard and they shot backwards, only for them to slam into the bodies that had been behind them. The whole car shook hard enough toss them in their seats and rattle their bones.

And then the back of the car pitched upwards like it was on a hill and stopped.

Qrow’s breathing was coming out in rapid pants, slamming his foot on the gas again and again as the mass of dead came closer. The tires were spinning but the car wasn’t moving. He gave a yell of frustration, tearing off his seatbelt and reaching over the backseat for his weapon. “Get our stuff, I’ll cover you!”

Tai didn’t argue, throwing open his door. It smashed into a few of the bodies that had started to come close and he dove out of the car, pulling open the back seat, tossing the duffel bag and backpack over his shoulders. While he was, Qrow slid across the hood of the car, landing on his side and swinging his gardening scythe in a fierce arc, looking much like the grim reaper himself as he lobbed off a few heads.

Tai unsheathed his own machete knife, slamming it up the underside of someone’s jaw, a harsh kick dislodging her and throwing her down. “Come on!”

The other threw a few more wild swings before turning and sprinting back down the road with him, his long legs making it effortless in catching up, angling his weapon astride himself. Their feet pounded together on the asphalt, a discordant harmony to the growls and snarls following behind them. “Now what?!”

“We run back to town!” Tai replied, reaching behind him to grope for the mesh pocket on the side of the backpack. They had only been driving a little while. They couldn’t be more than a few miles from town – but even if they got back, then what? Unless the horde moved on, they’d be trapped. His hand caught around the flashlight and he yanked it out in front of him, the beam of light bouncing along the road as he tried to guide their way, only to reveal a slowly growing crowd stumbling up on the street from the west side. “Shit! This way!”

They ran a diagonal path into the fields, the tall weeds swallowing their shins. The taller pushed back his bangs, throwing a look over his shoulder. “Why are there so many?!”

He yelled back between gasps for air, sweat already slicking his skin from the heat. “They must be coming off the freeway! They’re probably following the others because of the siren!” And now they were following them, pushing them away from the road and from the town. Without having slept or eaten well lately, Tai knew they were going to run out of energy very quickly. If they didn’t think of something soon, they were going to die.

Qrow slowed his pace some, squinting at a dark, imposing shape they were quickly approaching. “I think something’s ahead of us!”

He held the flashlight forward, exposing circles of white that didn’t make sense at first until they started to get closer. It was a brick wall that was about nine feet tall and, as he waved it down both sides, found it was covering a few acres worth of land. They’d never be able to run along it without being intercepted.

His grit his teeth as he realized their only choice was to go over.

As he put away the flashlight and his knife, Tai looked to the man beside him, the worried look on Qrow’s face clearly telling him he was coming to the same conclusion. “Can you make that jump?”

“Yeah, I got it!”

As they came to the wall, Tai ran ahead, finding purchase against the brick, lunging upwards. His right hand caught along the back of the fence, using the leverage to pull himself up. As he did, a scythe flew by, Qrow having pitched it over like it was a javelin. He looked over, seeing the other man distancing himself a few paces before rushing forward and taking a leap.

The tips of his fingers grasped onto the edge before he was falling back to the ground. The man cursed, stumbling backwards and shaking out his hands before trying again. His second attempt fell even shorter. Qrow looked up at him, panicked, while the growls behind him grew ever closer. “Uh, Tai?!”

Tai glanced to the other side of the wall, seeing nothing in the enclosure except some large tanks – a propane facility, possibly – and yanked off the bags, throwing them over the side. He swung around, jumping back down. “I’m gonna vault you over, alright?” He clasped his hands together into a make-shift stirrup. “Put your foot here and put the other on the wall. You jump and I’ll push you upwards. Got it?”

“Yeah!” He replied, placing his foot in his hand as told.

He counted down, “One, two, three, JUMP!” Suddenly, all of Qrow’s weight was on him as he hopped up. Tai’s arms shook with the strain, lifting the other’s leg high when he was able to grab the edge again, the extra height giving him the boost he needed to scrabble on top. Once he was sure the other was secure, he took a few steps back as he readied himself again.

Just as he was about to run forward, a hand grasped onto the back of his shirt and a hiss echoed in his ears.

“TAI!”

Acting on instinct, he threw his arm back, his elbow driving home into the nose of his captor, throwing him and his gnashing teeth miles from his shoulder. He pivoted on his toes as he drew his machete again, hurling it into the skull of another, but when it didn’t slice through like he wanted, he just used the leverage to push the stumbling dead into the crowd behind him, making quite a few fall down like they were dominos. More continued to stagger over them.

Qrow had stood, running lengthwise along the wall as he pulled out his pistol and took shots. “HEY! HEEEY OVER HERE!” The noise he was making was drawing most of them his way.

Taking the opportunity, Tai dashed forward and scurried up the wall a second time, finding it much harder this time when his whole body shook with effort. He straddled the wall, the adrenalin that had kept him going waning fast. His heart was hammering hard, lungs and eyes burning, muscles trembling with strain and clothes stuck to sweat-soaked skin. He waved when his partner called in concern, wordlessly pointing to the other side, and they both hopped down to the other side. Tai fell back against the wall, hand against his chest as he caught his breath.

Qrow hurried across the grass, fishing again for the flashlight before he turned it on, giving several long, slow sweeps of the area. Other than the tanks he had seen before, there was a single, long, metal warehouse at the far end of the facility. But nothing else. For now, they were safe.

He pulled off from the wall, walking over. “We did it Qr-!”

The flashlight hit the ground, the beam of light dancing as it rolled away, and Qrow whirled on him, dragging him forward into a bruising kiss. After a moment, Tai tore off his bloody gloves, tangling his clean hands into the other man’s hair, kissing back with equal fervor. He hummed pleasurably as their tongues tangled together, the other’s hands slipping up his chest and around his neck.

When they pulled apart, the other whispered breathlessly against his lips. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

“What?” Tai gasped back.

Qrow pulled back slightly, his gaze intense as he said heatedly. “If I had to walk through this hell on earth, I’m glad it’s with you.”

Tai stared back at him, his heart thudding again for an entirely different reason as he replied, “Yeah. Me too.” And then he lent forward, capturing his lips in another kiss.

~ A/N: Not written – the moment when these two discover that Qrow’s twin sister and Tai’s former girlfriend is the same person.

Also, a dad’s happy reunion with his two precious daughters because for god’s sake I’mnotamonster.

[noona-la-la-la]

Nursemaid

(Jimin’s crush comes over to his house to help him out after he suffers an injury that leaves him with limited use of both hands.)

Warnings: 6000+ words of smut, Jimin POV, I’ll let you guess what kind of smut takes place

“I can’t believe you managed to injure both of your hands on the same day.” Hoseok’s girlfriend, Sophie, stifled a laugh while she said it. “I can’t tell if you are dumb or just unlucky.”

 Jimin sighed.  He had been stupid and drunk when he and Jungkook went out into the street to play with fireworks.  One went off too close to his hand, burning his right palm requiring a trip to the emergency room where his injury was cleaned and bandaged.  The doctor gave him a lecture about drunk people and explosives and how fortunate he was not to have blasted off his fingers.            

While exiting the hospital, Jimin immediately tripped over the curb and landed with his full weight onto his left hand resulting in a small fracture and return trip to the emergency room to get a splint to immobilize his other hand.   Now, every time Jimin saw someone, he had to suffer the embarrassment of explaining what happened. People had a hard time not laughing when they heard how he managed to get hurt twice in one day.

 “Does it hurt much?” you asked him.

“Not really. As long as I don’t bump into anything or use my fingers too much, it’s okay.” At least you seemed to be genuinely concerned about his well-being. That’s one of the reasons Jimin liked you, you always seemed caring and sincere.  The other main reason he liked you was because he thought you were incredibly hot.  There were plenty of nights Jimin stayed up fantasizing about what it would feel like to be with you.  He wanted to ask you out, but had been waiting until there was some indication that you were even the slightest bit interested in him.  He was starting to think that maybe he had a chance with you, but he felt neutered with his injuries, unable to do things like casually touch you and see how you would respond to his advances.  Jimin resolved to make a move as soon as he had full use of his hands again.

When his roommate, Hoseok, first started dating Sophie, Jimin was annoyed by how often she was over at the apartment.  Sophie was brash and a little crude, made herself a bit too comfortable in Jimin’s home.  But once he discovered that you were Sophie’s roommate and that you would occasionally tag along to just hang out, Jimin learned to tolerate Sophie a lot better.  Anything that kept you coming by was worth it.

“It’s good that your fingers aren’t bandaged as well.  Are you able to use them to grip things?”  You leaned over to take a closer look at Jimin’s hands, causing your blouse to fall open a little and allowing Jimin to peek inside and see the curve of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.

Jimin surreptitiously slid one of the throw pillows from the couch onto his lap to prevent the growing tingling feeling between his legs from becoming visible to you or the others in the room.  “I can’t really do anything that requires much strength to grip, like, I have to use both hands to hold onto a glass of water or turn a doorknob.  Anything that requires actual manual dexterity is a lost cause.”

You were close enough to Jimin that he could smell you; it was a clean scent, soap and water, the faint lavender of your shampoo.  He liked that you didn’t wear heavy perfume like some girls did -- instead, you smelled fresh and pure.  It almost made Jimin feel guilty for the constant dirty thoughts he had about you… almost.  

“That must be difficult.  Are you able to dress yourself or does Hoseok have to help you?” you asked.

 “Hell no!  He does that on his own!” Hoseok responded loudly from his seat in an armchair across the room.  Sophie was sitting in his lap, her arms around his neck and Hoseok’s arm wrapped loosely around her waist.  As irritating as they could be, Jimin had to admit he was a little jealous of their public displays of affection.  He would do anything to have you sitting in his lap right now.

“I’m just wearing sweats and tee-shirts for now.  Stuff I can pull on easily.  It’s kinda bad how sloppy I look all the time.”

“I don’t think you look sloppy, you just look casual.  Since you’re a good-looking guy, you can get away without having to be dressed nice all the time,” you advised him. 

Jimin’s heart beat a little faster at the compliment.  Were you flirting with him or just being nice?  He couldn’t help himself but to look at your lips and think about how soft they looked and how nice it would feel to kiss them.  Then his eyes traveled to your neck, mentally tracing a line from your ear to your collarbone, wondering what it would be like to run his tongue over your skin.  He held the pillow in his lap a little tighter.

 “What I want to know,” Sophie said, “is how do you jerk off?”

Hoseok burst into a fit of laughter at his girlfriend’s audacious question.  Jimin closed his eyes and shook his head, he could feel his face heat up, a combination of embarrassment and irritation.

“Jesus! Sophie, how can you ask such a thing!” You admonished your roommate, glaring at her for asking something so crass.

 “What? No one else here is wondering the same thing?” Sophie looked around at everyone as she spoke.  “Just because you don’t have the guts to ask the question doesn’t mean you weren’t curious.  His hands are all wrapped up so he can’t be whacking off the traditional way and he doesn’t have a girlfriend to help him out, so it’s got to suck unless he’s got some other method to get himself off.” 

 “I’ll be fine, but thanks for your concern,” Jimin responded sarcastically.  The truth was that he hadn’t been able to masturbate for the past three days since the accident and he was starting to feel a little desperate, realizing it might be weeks before he had adequate use of his hands again.  Just last night, he had been on the internet looking at different sex toys and wondering what would be the best thing to buy to make things easier on himself.  The only reason he didn’t make a purchase was because he wouldn’t have been able to open the box without assistance.

 “It’s too bad you don’t live in Japan.  I was watching this documentary thing the other day and they have these services for physically disabled people where you can have a trained nurse come to your house and give you a handjob.  They showed this guy who has cerebral palsy or something getting it done to him.  Like a medically necessary ejaculation or whatever.  You need something like that.”  Sophie pointed to Jimin for emphasis.

 “That’s some crazy shit you’re watching, babe.” Hoseok pulled his girlfriend in closer to him. “Are you sure you weren’t just watching a porno?”

 “It’s not like they actually showed his dick on the show or anything, but they filmed the whole set up and interviewed him and the nurse lady.  It was all very professional,” she insisted.  “I mean, it’s not a bad idea… it would be terrible to never be able to get yourself off when you need to.  At least for girls, we can just grind against a pillow or something if our hands aren’t working, but for a guy it’s different.”

 “Nah.  It’s not all that different.  If a guy really wants to, he can get off by rubbing his dick against something, like grinding it against the mattress or a pillow.  It’s not the best way, but it’s totally doable.” Hoseok and Sophie were now in their own world, just casually discussing hands free masturbation techniques without regard to Jimin or you.

 “Can we please stop talking about this!” you interjected forcefully, trying to change the subject.  “I did not come all the way over here to talk about people jerking off!”

 Hearing you yell made Jimin smile to himself.  You were normally so calm, it was a special occasion to see you get flustered, your ears getting darker as you heated up with frustration.  He wondered if that happened when you got excited about other things, too.  Jimin could hear you arguing, but he couldn’t really focus on what was being said.  Having you close by was too much of a distraction and he found himself gazing at you while your attention was on Sophie who had just called you a prude.  You were gesturing vehemently with your hands while trying to make a point and the motion caused your breasts to bounce enticingly.  

 Jimin’s mouth began to water and the warmth in his groin started to spread.  He was grateful for that pillow in his lap, especially since he had elected not to wear any underwear today and his sweatpants did little to conceal any signs of arousal.  When he finally looked away from you, he saw Hoseok staring at him, grinning knowingly.  

 “Girls, girls!” Hoseok interrupted their argument. “What exactly was it that brought you over here in the first place?  Not that you aren’t always welcome.”

 “It was her idea, really,” Sophie said while pointing in your direction.  “She thought we could come by and help out since Jimin is hurt, especially since my Hoseok here is domestically impaired.”

 “Really?  That’s nice of you.” Jimin was flattered and made a mental note that it had been your suggestion, hoping that this was a further sign that you would be receptive when he finally got around to asking you on a date.

 “Yeah, I thought we could run some errands, maybe do your laundry, cook dinner tonight, things like that.”  

 “You don’t have to do that, you know.  It’s just nice enough that you thought of me,” Jimin replied shyly.

 “Don’t turn her down!” Hoseok argued. “I’ve heard she’s a really good cook and I’m tired of eating take out every night.”

 Jimin laughed.  “Okay, in that case, I would love to have a home cooked meal.  But we don’t have much food in the house -- unless you can make something out of a case of beer and potato chips.”

 “I guess that means our first errand will be doing some grocery shopping for you.” You smiled brightly at him, “Is there anything you have a particular taste for?”

 “I’m not picky.  Anything will be fine.  Thank you.”

 Sophie stood up from Hoseok’s lap, telling you, “Let’s go check out what little they do have in the kitchen before we go to the store.  Jimin you just kick back and relax.”  Sophie grabbed you by the hand and led you into the kitchen.  A few seconds later she called back out to Hoseok, “This kitchen is a fucking mess!  I understand why Jimin can’t wash dishes, but babe, what’s your excuse!?”

Hoseok rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion before telling Jimin, “I think she’s going to put me to work.  You should go hide so you don’t have to listen to all the complaining.”

 “I think I’ll go take a nap while they go to the grocery store.”  With that Jimin stood to go to his room, still carrying the throw pillow in front of him.

Once inside his room, Jimin flopped down on his bed dramatically.  He could hear your voice coming from the kitchen and he imagined what it would be like to have you as a girlfriend.  Would you cook for him regularly?  Why did he find the thought of you making a meal so exciting?  He looked down at the front of his sweats and could see his semi-hard dick pushing through the fabric.  Everything you did was sexy, he thought.  It wasn’t unusual for Jimin to have to relieve himself sexually after you came over for a visit.  After spending any time with you, he was generally consumed with thoughts of pressing his body against yours, tasting you, touching you.  Today was no different, only doing something about it was going to be much more difficult.

He glanced over at that throw pillow he brought in from the living room and remembered the masturbation conversation from just a few minutes ago.  Jimin had never considered humping a pillow before, but it was starting to sound like a pretty good idea given his current condition.  Tonight, after you had gone home and when Hoseok and Sophie were fast asleep, he would definitely try it.  But for now, he needed to focus on how to get the budding erection between his legs to go away before dinner tonight.  The last thing he wanted was to try to have a pleasant dinner conversation with you while a raging boner was in full view of everyone.

Think unsexy thoughts, he told himself.  Sports were usually sex free, so Jimin thought about basketball; he had seen a slam dunk contest on television earlier in the week and he was impressed by the skill of the athletes.  As Jimin remembered the moves of the basketball players, he also remembered the cheerleaders dressed in their tiny skirts and midriff baring tops.  Those outfits reminded him of the cheerleader costume you wore last Halloween -- it was blue with white trim and the top didn’t expose your belly, but it was a size too small and clung tightly to your breasts.  When you saw Jimin at a party that night, you asked him to hold your drink while you did a cheer specially made up on the spot using his name.  You did a series of high kicks that revealed the white cotton panties you wore underneath the skirt.  To this day, whenever Jimin fantasized about you, he imagined you wearing white cotton underwear as you slowly stripped for him in his imagination.  In fact, he was imagining it right now…

“Fuck. Me.  This is not going to work,” Jimin said to himself.  

As he contemplated what he could do to take you off his mind, he heard the front door open and close.  Jimin closed his eyes and listened carefully, but heard nothing.  There were no longer any voices coming from the kitchen; instead, the house was completely silent.  Realizing that you and Sophie must have finally left to pick up groceries, he thought again about the option of hands free masturbation.  Perhaps I just need to do it now and not wait.  As horny as I am right now, I should be able to get this over with in plenty of time.

When he rolled over onto the pillow, the increased pressure on his dick sent a small jolt to the base of his spine.  He propped himself up on his elbows and began to rotate his hips, his genitals rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants, pressed against the pillow -- the sensation was better than Jimin thought it would be.  His position was somewhat awkward, with his legs hanging half-way off the mattress and lacking the leverage he needed to control his hips the way he would like.  

Jimin stood up and considered what might be a more effective arrangement.  He pushed the throw pillow to the center of the bed and then was struck with the idea that it needed to be a little higher up off of the mattress to get the best angle.  Moving too quickly, he grabbed for one of his bed pillows, and tried to grasp it in his hand, forgetting his injuries until the searing pain shot up his arm.  Instead he pushed the bed pillow towards the center of the bed, stacking the throw pillow on top of it slowly, carefully.  He worried about cumming inside his sweats and the stain it might leave as a tell tale sign of what he had been doing while you were away, so he lowered the pants just enough for his dick to spring free and leave his buttocks exposed to the cool air.  As a final precaution, Jimin picked up a tee-shirt from his laundry basket and placed it on top of the pillows as a protective barrier from any spillage that might occur.

 With everything now arranged to his liking, Jimin knelt on his mattress, lowering himself cautiously onto his belly, his weight held up by his forearms and his hips at a comfortable angle -- he slid his bare cock against the softness of the pillows. He spread his knees wide to better support himself and thrust against the fabric beneath him, sighing at the pleasure it provided.  Thoughts of you crept into his mind, the curve of your backside, the delicateness of your fingers, the brightness of your eyes.  He let himself pretend that the pillow was you, maybe after a date you would be too shy to let him take you to bed, so instead he would kiss you, holding you close to his body while he ground his hips against you.  His thoughts drifted further to that glimpse of your bra he saw today and he imagined you topless, slowly unfastening your bra and letting it slip down your arms to leave you naked in front of him.  You weren’t large breasted, but he imagined them to be just enough, no more and no less.  He thought of you laying under him, squeezing your breasts together and imagined with every thrust that you were allowing him to slide his dick in the small valley between the fleshy globes.  

 Jimin was so lost in his fantasy, enjoying the friction on his genitals, that he didn’t hear the sound of soft knocking.  His eyes were closed as he envisioned you, so he missed it when his bedroom door slowly opened.  It wasn’t until he heard you call his name, followed immediately after with a shout of “Oh my god!” that he realized what was happening.  His eyes flew open to see your mouth agape as you stared wide eyed in shock.  

 His first instinct was to push himself off the bed and try to cover himself, but the moment he put his hands underneath himself to try to get up, the pain radiated up his arms and instead he collapsed face first onto the mattress.  He stayed there, face buried, praying that this was all some sort of horrible nightmare and that you weren’t really standing over him while his naked ass was on full display.

 “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!  I am so sorry Jimin.  I am so sorry.  Really, I am so sorry,” you repeated.  He turned his head just slightly, allowing him to see your legs, which appeared to be turned towards the wall in a belated effort to shield yourself from what you had just seen.

 Jimin swallowed the lump in his throat and managed to wrap the loose end of his bed covers over his bare behind.  “I thought you went to the store with Sophie,” was all he could manage to eke out.

 “Hoseok said he wanted to go with us so he could pay for the food, but I didn’t think it was right to leave you in the house alone, so I stayed behind to clean up in the kitchen.”  You had your forehead pressed against the wall to afford Jimin some semblance of privacy while you were still too surprised to know what to do with yourself.

 “You know, this isn’t what it looks like,” Jimin said in a last ditch effort to retain his pride.

 “Oh?  Sure.  Of course.”

 Jimin propped himself up slightly to look at you; you were still turned away from him, for which he was grateful.  “Was there something you wanted?  You must have come in for a reason.”  He tried to change the subject, keeping his voice steady to not give away how discomposed he was.

 “I noticed all the dirty towels in the bathroom and thought I could do a load of laundry while I waited for Hoseok and Sophie to get back.  I just wanted to check if you had anything in your room you wanted washed.  But I can come back after you’ve finished… um… you know… whatever it was you were doing.  You might want to have your sheets washed after you are done… napping or whatever.”

 “I think I’m pretty much done… napping.” Jimin felt like his face was on fire, but he appreciated your efforts to pretend like everything was normal.  “You don’t have to do my laundry.  I appreciate how helpful you are being, but I feel bad inconveniencing you like that.”  

 “It’s not an inconvenience.  I like doing things to help you,” you said while lifting your head off the wall but still not turning around to face him.

 Hanging his head low, Jimin wondered if you would still feel the same way if you knew the types of thoughts he had about you.  “Thanks.  You really are a nice person to do all these things.  If you give me a few minutes, I’ll be out of the room and can try to… um… help you with… I don’t know… something.”  He really didn’t know what to say or do, he felt useless.

 “Ok. I’ll leave you alone.  There’s no hurry.  Knowing Sophie, she’ll end up taking forever at the store or she and Hoseok will end up making out in the car for 30 minutes before driving home.  You know how they are.  I would plan on eating late.”  Jimin nodded his head in agreement even though you couldn’t see him.  You began inching your way out the door, but paused as you exited, hesitating.

Jimin held his breath, he could tell you had something you wanted to say and he dreaded what it might be.

 Turning your head to the side, just enough so that Jimin could see your profile, but not enough so that you could see him, you cleared your throat and took a deep breath before speaking.  “You know, it would be perfectly normal if you were doing something other than, uh, napping when I walked in on you.  I wouldn’t think any less of you.”  

 He knew you were trying to make him feel better, but he couldn’t help but wish you would drop the whole subject.  “Thanks,” was all he could think to say.

 You didn’t let the subject drop, though.  “I know I yelled at Sophie earlier for talking about it, but she was kinda right.  It would be terrible to not be able to take care of certain… personal needs.  Maybe having someone to do that for you would be helpful.  Like a nurse… or a friend.”

 “Or a friend?” Jimin propped himself up to see you better, your head was still turned to the side, allowing him to see your ears get darker as the blood rushed to them.  You rubbed the back of your neck and bit your lower lip, indicating your uneasiness.  “What kind of friend?” he asked.

 “A friend like me.”

 Jimin could feel his heart start pounding uncontrollably.  This has to be a joke, he thought.  There is no way she is saying what I think she is saying.

 “It’s okay if you want to say no,” you continued while shifting your weight from from foot to foot, as though you weren’t sure how to stand comfortably.  “But if you needed someone to help you reach certain parts of your body, I could be that person.  Like I said, I like being able to help you.”

 “This is a little different than you offering to do my laundry,” he said through shaky breaths.  Jimin still wasn’t sure you were being serious.  This all seemed too much like one of his dirtiest fantasies and he started wondering if he was even awake right now.

 “I think I would like it a lot more than laundry.  In fact, I know I would like it,” you told him.  Jimin wasn’t sure how to respond, he struggled to find words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.  You took his silence as rejection.  “I’m sorry.  I crossed a line here and I shouldn’t have said those things to you.  It’s okay that you don’t want to do this.  I’ll just go and we can forget the whole thing.”  

 You turned away and began closing the door behind you when Jimin finally found the courage to speak.  “Wait!  Don’t go!  If you really mean it, I would welcome your help.”  The erection that had faded when you first walked in on him was rapidly returning at the thought of you touching him.

 “Are you sure?” you asked.

 “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of something in my life,” he replied.

 Stepping fully inside Jimin’s bedroom and closing the door tightly behind you, you turned to look at him directly and smiled shyly.  You walked over to him and sat on the edge of his bed, placing your hand on his shoulder and then gently running it down over his back and stopping at the base of his spine. “May I remove this?” You tugged at the sheet he had hastily thrown over his butt to try to conceal himself.

 “Sure,” Jimin said in a whisper, as if he was afraid of waking himself up.  He could feel you slowly drag the sheet from his body until he was exposed.  You dragged your fingernails softly over his haunches, sending a chill up his body.  

 You continued running your nails down his thighs until you reached his sweatpants and then tucked your fingers under the waistband before noting, “These should probably come all the way off as well.”

 “Ye-ah.”  Jimin’s voice cracked as he answered, adrenaline starting to rush as he grew more excited by the prospect of what would happen next.

 You pulled the sweats off his body and folded them neatly, placing them at the foot of the bed, before you kneeled up on the mattress behind Jimin.  Placing a hand on each of Jimin’s legs, you ran your palms firmly up from his ankles, over his thighs, across his buttocks, and slipped them under his shirt to continue along his bare back to his shoulders and then all the way back down again.  “Do you want to take your shirt off too, or leave it on?”

He was increasingly aware of how you were fully dressed while he lay half naked in front of you and started to become anxious about how exposed he was. “I think I’ll keep it on, for now.”

“How do you want to position yourself?  Laying down or sitting up?  Do you need my help to roll over?”

Rolling over on his back would be the quickest and probably the most comfortable way to get started, but Jimin couldn’t pass up the chance to see for himself what you were doing, to be able to look at your face while you ministered to his needs.  “I’ll sit up.”  He rolled to his side, away from you and threw his legs over the side of the bed so he could stand.  Jimin was nervous about turning to face you and letting you see his manhood for the first time.  Would you be disappointed?  Would you find him attractive?  Inhaling deeply, he walked to the head of the bed and crawled on top, rotating so his back was against the headboard and his legs straight out in front of him.  You sat next to him and stroked his inner thighs, indicating he should relax and let his legs fall open naturally.  He looked at your face and followed your eyes to where your gaze fell on his sex.  Jimin cursed the fact that he was only semi-erect at this point.  “It will get bigger when you start touching it.”

“It’s fine.  I mean, I like it.”  You held your hands against your cheeks and looked at Jimin’s face.  “I’m blushing because I’m nervous.  I’ve never done something like this before.  I mean, I’ve touched a penis before, but not quite like this.  I’m nervous because it’s you.  I just… ugh, I’m rambling.  I just want to do a good job.  I want you to like it.”

It made Jimin feel good to know he wasn’t the only one with butterflies in his stomach.  “Trust me when I say I’ll like it.  Anything you do, I will like.”  He wanted to tell you that it was because he liked you, that he had liked you for a long time, but confessing his feelings now seemed a little out of place.

You went back to stroking his thighs until you found the courage to finally reach out and touch his dick.  You started simply, running one finger across the top, from the base to the tip.  Jimin found it difficult to breathe as he watched you.  You grew bolder and took his penis in your hand, running your ten fingers lightly up and down the length of him.  These feather light touches caused the blood to rush from Jimin’s head to his dick, causing it to swell up even more.  The teasing was agonizing and intense.  He wanted to touch you back, but couldn’t.

Without warning, you gripped him tightly in your palm and gave him one firm stroke.  Jimin groaned aloud and the change in sensation.  “Is that a good groan or a bad groan?” you asked.

“Good.  You have no idea how good.”

“Jimin, do you usually use lotion or something?  Tell me how you like to be touched.”

“I have a bottle of lube in the nightstand next to you.”

You let go of him and reached into the drawer next to the bed, pulling out a half empty bottle of lube.  “Looks like this gets well used,” you smirked while pouring some in your hands and then rubbing them together to warm it up.  With your now slick hands, you grasped him loosely at first, stroking him slowly.

Jimin felt overcome by the feeling of you rubbing him.  He threw his head back and heard it thud against the headboard, but felt no pain.  You looked up to make sure he was okay, distracted by the noise.  “Don’t stop.  Please… ugh… don’t stop.” Jimin pleaded with you to keep going.

Spurred on by his request, you gripped him a little tighter and stroked him a little faster.  He could feel the warmth in his groin growing, the tingling of his nerves as they fired off.  “Is this how you like it?  Tell me, Jimin.  Tell me what I can do to make this better for you.”

“Slower,” he said.  You kept the same strength in your grip, but decreased the speed.  You worked your hand up from the base of his shaft to the head of his cock and then twisted your hand around him as you went back down to the base. “Fuck!” is all Jimin could say.

“I’ve heard this is a good spot.  Is it true?” On your upward stroke, you paused at the head and let your thumb rub small circles against the frenulum at the underside of the head of his dick.

Eyes fluttering and chest rising and falling erratically, Jimin nodded his affirmation.  He watched you as you studied his cock, lowering your head so you could more clearly see.  You were so close he could feel your breath against him and he started to fixate on your mouth and how amazing it would feel if your fingers were replaced by your tongue.  But he was too fearful that asking for a blow job would ruin the mood and cause you to stop altogether -- and the last thing Jimin wanted was for you to stop.

He ached to touch you back.  In his many fantasies about you, Jimin never saw himself as being the passive recipient of your attentions.  He wanted to seduce you, to undress you and throw you on the bed beneath him.  He wanted to taste you… your lips, your skin, your sex.  He wanted to crawl between your legs and fill you with his fingers, with his dick.  He wanted to be the one making you moan and gasp in ecstasy.

Instead he did the only thing he could, reaching out his bandaged hand to gently stroke your head with the parts of his fingers that were not bound.  Although it wasn’t much, being able to feel that small piece of you made him shudder and caused you to look back at him and smile.

“Do you like it better when I touch the head or the shaft?”

“All of it,” Jimin expressed through heavy breaths.  “I just want you to touch me everywhere.”

Buoyed by his request, you swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock and spread his precum down the vein that ran his full length.  You started pumping him again, this time using both hands; one hand focusing on the tip the other working the shaft.  Jimin moaned wantonly.

“I like the noises you make,” you whispered in his ear.  Jimin shivered at your words.  Inspired by his lust, he turned his head and kissed you.  You pulled away in surprise and he worried that maybe he had misunderstood your motivations, until you dove back in placed a fevered kiss on his lips.  He instinctively opened his mouth and you tangled your tongue with his, pressing against him passionately.  You tasted like he imagined, fresh.  

“This is not how I i-i-imagined our f-first kiss would go,” Jimin stammered.

“So, you’ve been imagining kissing me?” you asked.

“For longer than you can imagine,” he admitted.

“I doubt you’ve been thinking about it longer than I have,” you retorted.

You leaned in again, pressing a softer, sweeter kiss against him.  But he was instantly reminded how this moment was far from sweet when you moved one hand to cup his scrotum while you continued to pump him.  You rolled his balls in the palm of your hand while your hand continued slipping up and down the expanse of his erection.  

“Hnnnggghhhh! Fuck! Fuck!” Jimin wanted to whisper something romantic to you, but he was too far gone.  His dick was stretched to its limit, it throbbed with every touch; his balls were tightening as he drew closer to his ultimate release.  “I’m so close.  So close.  So close,” he repeated over and over, his forehead resting against your own.

“Let go.  I want to see you cum.”  Your words were hushed but deliberate.  “I want to be the one who makes you cum, Jimin.  Please.”

Hearing you speak like that was the final blow.  He felt like he was unraveling, his abdomen tightened and his shoulders slumped forward as he felt his dick start to jerk and spasm.  Finally, his eyes rolled back and he let out a low groan as his seed shot out from his body.  All he could see were flashes of bright white while he came, unable to control his body as you kept stroking him through his orgasm.

When it was over, Jimin sat back against the headboard, with his eyes closed and took a moment to catch his breath.  When he finally opened his eyes, he saw you looking back at him, beaming.  Your hands were dripping with his cum and your shirt was stained.  “I’m sorry.  I made a mess of you,” he apologized.

“Don’t be sorry.  It was totally worth it.  I was going to do laundry anyway and I’ll just throw my shirt in with the rest.”

Jimin chuckled.  “I can’t believe this just happened.  Would it be weird right now to ask you out on a date?  I mean, I usually ask a girl out before I get a hand job, but… you know.”  He suddenly felt a little shy.  

You kissed him on the cheek.  “I would love to go out on a date with you.  I’ve been trying to get you to notice me for the longest time!”

“Oh, I’ve noticed you.  I’ve been doing nothing but noticing you for months.”  He picked up his injured hands, showing them to you.  “It might take a little time before I can take you anywhere proper, but if you are willing to wait for me, I will make it worth your while.”

“I’ll wait, as long as you let me come over from time to time to help you out around the house and maybe provide some more, um, special nursing services,” you answered slyly.