#They were so loud about being here for the hotties and whispering gossip. You go girls.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

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[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.9 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting a chance to meet the local Sheriff and to say he is not excited would be an understatement.

Read chapter 9: ‘Addressing the Public’ on AO3 

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

For his first day off from the grocery, today sure seemed like it was determined to make its mark so he couldn’t possibly forget it. At this point, it was about burned into Stretch’s memory, for sure.

First there was Doris who added her clues into his trick r treat bucket, then the town assholes showed up for their serial killer practice. Then, as a treat, he got to have the double punch of a lunch with Edge, a sweet and sour mixture of possibly flirtatious revelations coupled to an unwanted chat about his own traumas, served warm over some delicious pie.

Now it looked like he was about to get a sequel to the Assholes: Part Deux, the Assholes’ Revenge, in the form of a sheriff filled with blustering indignation and accusations, and all Stretch had was a mouthful of pie to defend himself. Worse, his only witness had already paid the bill and left.

Stretch swallowed his last bite, chasing it down with water when it tried to stick in the back of his throat as he went over possibilities. He could try to explain the situation, but if there was one thing he’d learned from living in Ebott, it was that if a Monster was talking to the cops, it was best to keep it short, sweet, and polite. Don’t try to explain or admit to shit, ‘cause they’d be more than happy to add another line to the list of things to harass you about.

Seriously, he missed being able to shortcut, this whole facing trouble head-on thing wasn’t for him.

The sheriff huffed again, loudly, and it fluffed up his broad mustache like a human-shaped walrus. He propped fists about the size of a baby’s head on his broad hips and growled out, “So? Is that it? You’re here startin’ some trouble in my peaceful little town?”

Stretch looked up into those mirrored sunglasses. If they were standing, Stretch would probably have a couple inches on the guy, but sitting here in the booth the sheriff loomed over him ominously, his own distorted reflection showing back his nervous face.

“no, sir,” Stretch said politely. Stick with the basic, that was good for a start, and hopefully Red would be willing to bail him out if that became necessary. At least Red wouldn’t have far to go.

The rest of the diner was staring, not a single fork was engaged as they watched the latest scene in the town drama unfold. Not that he blamed them, this was probably about the most action they’d seen in weeks, but he did sort of wish someone would be a little concerned rather than eagerly interested. Waiting to see if maybe the local sheriff was gonna slap on some cuffs so they could whip out their phones for a nice tiktok video while he was getting read his rights?

“No?” the sheriff demanded. His sunglasses reflected the overhead light, making Stretch wince back. “I heard you were out there riling up the corn yesterday. And today you were playing dog days with the doggerel boys?”

That was true, except how it wasn’t, and a trickle of sweat was winding its way down Stretch’s spine despite the air conditioning. Before he could wheeze out another ‘no sir’ or any other answer at all, a sudden, booming laugh filled the entire diner, loud enough to echo from the greasy grill before rolling back out to rattle the windows. The sheriff hooked his thumbs into a belt with a buckle so big that could probably double as a satellite dish, guffawing loudly, “Aw, you ain’t in any trouble, I’m just joshing ya, boy!”

Oh. Ohhhh, this was only a little goodnatured small-town hazing, that he could deal with, if he managed to swallow his quivering soul back down where it belonged. Stretch tried on a smile to match the sheriff’s ongoing laughter and found that it fit pretty well, all things considered.

“can’t be joshing, my name is stretch,” Stretch said with cautious humor. “but i guess stretching me would be an entirely different meaning. think they gave that one up in the middle ages.”

The sheriff bellowed out another laugh that practically shook the silverware, actually bending over to give his knee a loud slap. Around them rose other chuckles around mouthfuls of pie and how strange was it that he could feel the difference between people laughing at him and laughing with him. There was a certain fondness in that laughter, in the warm expressions coming his way from townsfolk that he sort of knew; these were people who’d bought their toilet paper and fresh apples from him on any given day, who’d give him waves and smiles when he passed them on the sidewalk and maybe it was an unusual form of kindness, but their humor still made unexpected tears prick in his sockets.

Stretch grabbed his napkin and dabbed hastily at his face as if he were wiping away sweat before anyone could see and misunderstand. How could he explain to them that in all his life, he’d never felt such a wash of overwhelming fondness from anyone except maybe his own brother.

(Not even from the person who’d told him so often and so tenderly that he loved him…until he didn’t, fucking hell, he wasn’t thinking about that right now, he wasn’t.)

The sheriff was obviously no fool and already his expression was softening into remorse, maybe coming up with an apology that Stretch desperately did not want, not for this. Rescue came almost too late and from an entirely unexpected source. Granny Collemore was so short Stretch could only see her steel-gray hair piled up in a messy bun over the top of the booth as she approached, but he heard her hollering well enough.

“Buford, you let that poor boy alone!” There was a smacking sound of a cane hitting flesh and Stretch couldn’t see where the blow struck, but the sheriff, Buford, let out a yelp, hopping on one foot as he frantically rubbed his shin.

“Sam Hill, granny, I was only playin!” he grumbled. He pulled up the leg of his trousers to examine his granny-inflicted wound. There was a reddened welt on the skin, already shading to purple.

“You hush yourself,” Granny huffed, “I’m half-past give-a-shit today and you may be the sheriff in these parts, but you ain’t too old for a hiding!” Granny shuffled into view, her cane hooked over one arm. She reached out with her wrinkled hands and Stretch leaned over obediently to let her to cup his face gently in her palms as she clucked with concern. “Does he look like he’s up for your shenanigans?” she groused loudly, “‘specially since this feller is working over at the grocery with Red, bless his heart.”

“That a fact?” Buford pushed his hat up and offered a crooked smile. “Must be a brave soul, then. Well, you tell that sonavabitch I’m gunning for him this Sunday. He better be there with silver bells on and you tell him that whatever aces are up his sleeves, better make sure they ain’t spades, ‘cause that’s the reverend’s favorite cheat.”

“i’ll do that,” Stretch agreed, a touch bewildered. Hell, he’d thought Red was joking when he said the sheriff was his poker buddy.

That sounded like an exit line, it was starting to look like Stretch was going to make it out of here unscathed, and he might have if Granny hadn’t put in, happily, “Anyhoo, Buford, you just miss seeing Edge. He was here sharing a slice of pie with our new fella.”

Dark eyebrows rose up over those mirrored lenses and Buford hooted a laugh, “Oho, that how it is. On a date with our Edge, were ya.”

Great, that was exactly what he didn’t want getting back to Red. Enjoying a little flirting was one thing, but not if it started the wheels of the gossip train turning. With his luck, it would crash right into a dumpster fire. “uh, no, no dates, just pie.”

He did not expect Buford to suddenly look a little offended, those eyebrows drawing down into a frown behind his glasses. “Why in the Sam Hill not? Ain’t he your type?”

“Uh.” Stretch looked around a little wildly, away from Granny and Buford to see the rest of the diner was still watching them with interest. No, not just interest, there was an awful lot of sly looks there and whispering behind hands, along with soft expressions and doe-eyes…

Oh. Oh, shit, it was worse than he thought. They were invested, everyone in this diner was taking sides and they were choosing the romance option, this was bad, this sort of thing was infectious and the last thing he needed right now was an entire town of matchmakers trying to hook him up with the local hottie. It was like an unsolved Agatha Christie took a sudden, sideways turn into a Hallmark Gyftmas movie.

Buford and the rest of the diner were all waiting for him to explain why he and Edge weren’t dating and Stretch was sitting here, fumbling around at the pass.

“we’re not dating, we’re just—” Stretch coughed awkwardly, hesitating. The truth was ‘it’s complicated’ was probably most accurate, although ‘barely met acquaintances’ was a close second, or even the generic, ‘he’s my boss’s baby bro whose ass i am definitely not staring whenever i see him but also his smile is really nice and—' “—friends,” Stretch finished, lamely.

Buford nodded like he’d offered not a nugget of wisdom, but an entire ten-piece with the tangy sauce. The light reflected in his mirrored gaze as he said, kindly, “That ain’t a bad thing.”

Relieved, Stretch let out an unsteady laugh, “kinda surprised you don't think i'm a cousin or something.”

Buford snorted loudly at that, “Son, you boys don't look a thing alike.”

And that there was another surprise to add to his daily total. In Ebott, Stretch was constantly getting mistaken for Papyrus or Sans, even his own brother once or twice. Half the time, people either didn’t know his name or didn’t care to, and Backwater was a strange place, no question, but that sure didn’t mean it was bad.

Buford didn’t seem to notice his shock as he went on, “Now there’s a boy who could use some en-ter-tainment. Works too hard, damned if he don’t.”

Now that was a clue looking him right in the face and Stretch took the Velma leap and pounced on it, trying for a little discreet nonchalance, “yeah? what does he work so hard at?”

A shame Buford seemed to be pretty quick on the draw. He gave Stretch a shrewd look, “He ain’t told you?”

“no, sir,” Stretch sighed glumly. Seriously, he was the worst Velma ever.

Buford went ahead and poured salt into the open wound with another short laugh, “Naw, I’ll ain’t stepping in that cow pie. I’ll let him talk to ya about that. But see if you can’t get him to slow down for another--” Buford gave him a sly wink and actually hooked his thick fingers into air quotes, “’friend date’, wontcha?”

Then he grunted as Granny Collemore jammed her elbow into his soft gut, tutting loudly, “You never did shake the ants outta your pants did you, Buford! Let those boys alone, they'll go at their own pace.” To Stretch she offered sunny, toothless grin, “Come on, and walk an old lady out.”

“yes, ma’am,” Stretch said. Hey, he might be an idiot, but he was no fool. He stood up, ready to make his getaway, halted only briefly by Buford snatching up his hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake, though his grip was gentle on the delicate bones.

“Welcome to town, Stretch,” Buford told him. For once he was completely serious as he said, low, “and don’t you worry about those boys.” He tapped the side of his nose, his broad finger reflected in his sunglasses. “I know what happened, it’ll be taken care of.”

“i appreciate that,” Stretch said, and he meant it. He turned and followed after Granny, only dodging ahead to hold up the door so she could shuffle out.

“Thank you, sonny,” Granny huffed as she made her slow way through the door. “These old bones ain’t as spry as yours. You should head on home now, there's a storm a’comin'."

Stretch looked up into the cloudless sky in confusion, greeted by endless blue.

“Oh, you can trust me," Granny grimaced and rubbed at her hip, "these joints don't lie."

“i will,” Stretch agreed. After his lesson with the corn, he was taking the townsfolk at their word and if granny said a storm was heading this way, he expected to see clouds blowing in any minute now.

He left Granny to make her way home and headed back to the store. Red only grunted when he came in, didn’t even look up from his book as he hooked an absent thumb towards his apartment. There was a bag sitting on the table and when Stretch looked inside, there was a sandwich neatly covered in plastic wrap, a bag of chisps, and a bottle of juice. He was still full up on pie, but it would make for a nice, simple dinner, good thing he had Red up there looking after him. Maybe he should suggest to Red that he get a tattoo, a nice heart engraved on his arm with ‘Mom’ in the middle, since now he had one.

Stretch took the bag upstairs with him and opened the window. He took a moment to breathe in the already cooling air, a herald to the coming storm.

The book was sitting where he’d left it last night when he’d dragged himself off Red’s sofa, limbs spaghettied from sleep and his mind noodly mush. He’d brought the book along without even thinking about it and now the hardcover seemed to mock him with the necessary knowledge hidden somewhere within those pages.

Welp, there was only one way he was gonna get the info out of it and that didn’t mean beating it against his skull until the words shook out. He picked it up and settled to sit cross-legged on the bed, bracing himself for what might well be hours of boredom as he turned it to the first page.

And frowned. At the top of the page was a family name, ‘Anderson’, along with the date, ‘1884’. There was a short selection of first names beneath it and next to each was what looked like a telephone number and an address.

“what the hell?” Stretch muttered. He flipped to the second page and it was the same thing, only the name was ‘Armstrong’ and there were a lot more first names to go with it, someone was getting busy on the weekends, for sure.

Stretch flipped to the next page, and the next. All of them had the same thing, a last name, then a collection of firsts with a number and an address. Finally, he flipped back to the title page. There, right underneath the scrolling text declaring the book ‘The Informal History of Backwater’ was a tiny addition he hadn’t noticed before, stating in a small, stark font, ‘Municipal Directory.’

For a long moment, Stretch could only stare at it, until the words started floating in his sight. Laughter bubbled up suddenly, fizzing in him like a shaken soda. "sonofabitch," Stretch burst out, snickering madly. The damn thing was a glorified telephone book and Edge had flat-out given him his damned address already, practically gift-wrapped it! And he'd almost refused to take the damn thing! Guy wasn't only sexy, he had jokes and if he wasn't already a treat to the senses, that would have upgraded him to a bone-ified snack.

Address had to be in here, all Stretch needed to do was find it. The book was bigger than he would’ve thought from a small town, but from the look of it, they never took anyone out, only kept adding on. Occasionally next to a name he saw an abbreviated ‘dec.,’ so maybe this was a bit of town history, after all, kind of a family tree, anyway.

It still took him awhile to find their names, flipping through the book. The names were alphabetized, but that didn’t help much when the family he was looking for didn’t have a last name. Finally, under the surname ‘Skeleton’, he found them.

“should’ve tried that to begin with,” Stretch muttered. He read the entry, following along with his finger, only to pause in confusion when it came to the date recorded neatly by their names. It listed them as arriving in town over a decade ago and if that was when they came to Backwater, then whoever printed this needed to proofread a little better, because that was impossible. Monsters had only been on the surface for a couple years, not quite three now, so it had to be a mistake.

Except, Edge struck him as the kind of guy who was pedantic enough that there was no way he wouldn’t bitch until it was fixed; anyone who ate their pie like it was a military maneuver wouldn’t be able to stand such an egregious error. And he’d made sure to give Stretch the book, so he damn well knew he’d be seeing this. So what the hell did all this mean?

What did any of this mean?

Stretch sank back against the wall behind him, tipping his head up so he could stare at the ceiling. There was a crack in the plaster in one the corner, spidering off into a shape like a lightning bolt and that was exactly what Stretch felt like he’d been struck with.

What the hell was this place? Some kind of fairytale, where one day in town was a week on the outside? If he hopped on another bus and made his way to the next town over, would the papers tell him it was next Tuesday or the next century?

It was enough to inspire him to check his messages. Stretch fumbled for his phone, opening the text app for the first time in days. The amount of alerts made him wince but it was the last message that roused that endless ache in his soul back up to true pain.

I understand that you’re hurting, brother. You don’t have to tell me where you are. You don’t even have to call. All I ask is you send me a message every once in a while to let me know you’re all right. Please.

Stretch closed his sockets and swallowed against the sudden knot in his throat. Before he could rethink it, he typed a hasty, i’m all right and sent it, then lurched over to shove his phone into the nightstand drawer, slamming it shut.

Even so, he couldn’t help listening, straining to hear but there was no vibrating buzz, nothing to indicate a return message.

Good enough.

Stretch took a deep, shaky breath, then dragged the book back over and studied the entry again. Red’s address was the store, no surprises there, but Edge was listed under 637 Wood’s End Drive.

Wood’s End. Seriously?

Welp, it was one mystery solved, anyway, even if he’d skipped the meddling kids part. Now all he needed was to plan a field trip.

A sudden flash of lightning lit the room, putting the fake bolt on his ceiling to bitter shame and the sky outside seemed to burst, rain pouring down and pelting through his open window. Stretch scrambled over to slam it closed, shaking away the damp on his hands. All the sunshine from earlier was gone, the sky darkened into angry, swirling storm clouds as the downpour drenched the parched earth.

Yeah, field trip was postponed on account of rain, but not for long. He’d get there and maybe once he showed up on Edge’s doorstep, he’d finally get some real answers.

For now, though, all Stretch wanted was a towel.

tbc

[stuffy-attic]

Tipsy [Reader x LOV Spinner] Part 1/2(?)

You fiddled with your drink before taking the tiniest sip ever. It was a difficult balance to strike; on one hand sitting at the bar gave you the perfect opportunity to slyly ogle the hottie but on the other hand it was imperative that you weren’t tempted into drinking too much and making a fool of yourself… let’s just say it’s happened in the past and you weren’t keen on a repeat event.

Besides, making a fool of yourself in front of Shigaraki and Dabi and the rest of the League of Villains? That probably wouldn’t be a good career move.

Never mind making a fool of myself in front of the guy I like… it might be a good way to get myself fucking killed though. The thought had you giggling as you set the glass down a tad too hard. Aaaaand that was probably a good stopping point. Toes tingly with alcohol you didn’t even notice that Kurogiri had meandered over to you.

“Another one?”

No, that couldn’t go well. “Sure, Kurogiri. Hook me up.” You spared a glance at the object of your affections. Spinner was tucked away in a corner still. It had been difficult picking a seat with a good angle (without being obvious about your indecision) but it was taken care of without too much trouble. At the very least you had a view of his very very nice arms.

Kurogiri cleared his throat. “Here.”

Oops. Apparently the glance hadn’t been so much a glance as a stare. “Thanks,” you mumbled as you withered in your seat a bit. Suddenly the bottom of that glass was looking very appealing. The League of Villains was hardly a good place to find romance – not to mention that the current climate and events of the world were hardly conducive to warm fuzzies.

You sighed as you stared at the back of Kurogiri’s shirt, standing at the far end of the bar involved in some discussion with Shigaraki. “But never have I ever…” Had such strong feelings for someone. And if you didn’t make them known? Well who knew… tomorrow might be your last day on earth after all. You turned to look at Spinner once more.

If I die tomorrow I’d regret never saying anything. Maybe I should-

The tiny flame of bravery that had flickered to life was smothered as Spinner turned and caught your eyes. Caught red handed. Your face felt even warmer than it had from just the alcohol and you were quick to avert your gaze back to the still full glass. Better swallow this and then hope a hole opens up and swallows me. The drink burned like hell (apparently Kurogiri was attempting over serve knowingly) but you powered through.

This glass was set on the bar with even less grace than the last one had been. Fuck I forgot how good he looked without the mask.

Of course you liked him with the mask too even if it was a touch dorky looking-

“What’s got you in the cups?”

You jumped at the voice that was way too close. “Dabi-” you set a hand on your chest only to feel your racing heart, “what the fuck? What’re you doing here anyway?”

“Ouch, babe.” He dramatically grabbed his chest and ignored your glare at the nickname. “You hurt my heart so.” A beer in hand he gestured at the glass. “Rough day?”

“I just thought – the new recruits…” Your brain was swimming a bit. Should’ve definitely had that slower. With a sigh you collected your thoughts. “Not really. Just in a mood-”

“So ‘never have you ever’ what?” Your eyes went wide at his question. “Never gotten laid?” His voice was entirely too loud; Kurogiri had turned around, Shigaraki was looking (at least it seemed like it even with the hand in the way), Toga and Magne had popped out from who knows where to check out the commotion. You could feel Spinner’s eyes on your back.

“Shut up,” you growled. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Well I mean with a chest like yours-”

“That’s not what I was talking about in the first place!” Your whisper was hard and probably too loud to really be considered a whisper. This fucking shit just loves stirring the pot when he’s bored. One look at Dabi’s shit eating grin confirmed your worst fears that he wasn’t done yet.

“If you’re looking for someone to bang-”

“No!”

“I mean my schedule is pretty busy but I could-”

“You’re not the one I’m interested in banging anyway.”

Oh the silence was deafening.

Dabi’s quirk was flames, but never had you ever seen his eyes light up like that. “So there is someone outside the league you have the hots for?”

Voice haughty for some reason – insulted he thought you’d fool around outside of the league… for some fucking reason – you replied: “They’re not outside of the league.” The eyeroll you gave him stopped half way as you realized the words that had actually just left your mouth.

Why you ever thought that was some sort of brilliant comeback was unknown. Somewhere in the background you could hear your logical brain screaming and attempting to take back control of the wheel. Logical brain knew better than to engage with Dabi, but here you were with drunk brain in control and loose lips in the passenger seat. And a very heavy sense that everyone was now very invested in how this conversation was going to go (including Mr. Compress and Twice who were new to the party).

Gotta sue Kurogiri now I guess.

Dabi’s eyes were dancing around the room; you hoped that maybe he was picking a new victim to bother but you knew that wasn’t it. “So then it’s…”

“Doesn’t matter. You some fucking yenta or something?” You slid off the stool only to find exactly just how dizzy you were. You grasped the counter. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t be mean, Dabi!” Toga called from where she stood.

Magne was quick to back her up. “That’s right. A girl has her secrets after all.”

“Will you all just shut up,” Shigaraki hissed. “Fuck or don’t fuck. Who cares.” He stood up and stomped out of the room.

Dabi snorted. “Well I know it’s not him.”

“Maybe it’s not your business,” Twice suggested. “Fucking tell us who it is.”

Magne laughed. “It’s hardly juicy gossip when it’s just splattered like this. Much more fun to snoop and discover it…” She shook her head. “Can hardly expect a boy to understand though.”

Toga nodded in agreement. “Big sis Magne has a point.”

I have had enough. I’m just gonna give more. You decided on your escape plan quickly; it mostly included you just turning around and walking out. You turned.

“Don’t think I’ll give up so easily,” Dabi threatened.

“Just fucking leave her alone.” You turned to see that Spinner had gotten up and was retying his mask. “Doesn’t matter any – we have better things to focus on.” Your eyes caught once again, you nearly stumbled to the ground and you weren’t even walking. He paused for a moment before shaking head. “I’m heading out.”

The second that reptilian man was out the door Dabi started to chuckle. “Oh so it’s him?”

All the sounds that came out of your mouth and none of them were real words. Your eyes raced around the room looking at who still remained (everyone minus Shigaraki and Spinner). “They – shut up! It’s not-”

“Oh like we didn’t know?” Mr. Compress asked. “I believe even the most junior stage magician is more discrete than you.”

“What-”

Toga and Magne nodded and shouted in unison, “We knew!”

Death, death, death.

“I knew too! I had no fucking idea.”

Slowly you turned your gaze to Kurogiri. He looked up from the glass he was wiping. “…hardly subtle.”

“Fan-fucking­­-tastic.” You dragged your hands over your eyes. “Well that’s great – just lovely. Thanks guys.”

Toga was bouncing on her heels. “Oh I know! I know! You should tell him!” You looked at her like she was out of her mind. “You should! It’d be so great!”

“I don’t know-”

Dabi growled. “You’re gonna tell him or I’ll torch the hair right off your head. I’m tired of seeing you make fucking puppy eyes at him.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits. “You did this on purpose?!” Never had it ever been so tempting to strangle him. If you weren’t swaying right now you probably would’ve gone for a swing to the head – probably would’ve done it with another drink in you too. However right now you were sitting at a sweet spot that had Dabi safely protected from your (ill-advised) punches.

A glaring contest ensued.

Fuck Dabi has a mean ass glare like Endeavor does. And now I almost hate him as much as that shit hero... almost. You broke first, eyes turning towards the door Spinner had gone through. “When?”

“Now,” Dabi said.

“Now?”

“Now! Now!” “You can’t hesitate!” Toga and Magne shouted.

“It’ll be fine. It’s gonna end like shit.”

A few shaky sighs before you nodded. “Right okay. Okay. Maybe this is my sign, right?” You jogged and bounced a little. “I can do this. Right? This sounds like a good idea. It probably shouldn’t but it does so-”

Dabi shoved you without reservation. “Stop stalling.”

You stumbled but managed to catch yourself before eating shit. “Fucking-” you cursed Dabi under your breath before collecting yourself and power walking out the door. You knew the route he usually took out of the hideout (not because of stalking, just coincidence) so you followed that and prayed he hadn’t decided to go a different way.

You almost blew past him, not expecting him to have changed out of his costume and into his leather jacket and jeans. The hair was a dead giveaway even from the back though. I’ll just approach and ask if he has a minute-

Spinner turned around. He looked very confused.

“Uh…” How?

“You’re walking like a horse wearing tap shoes,” he explained.

“Ah.” I’m never going to drink again. This is a bad idea. Bail. I’ll confess to him another day after drinking. “Sorry I… I gotta go.” You only got as far as pirouetting before Spinner’s voice stopped you.

“Where you going? Back to the bar?”

Gods no. Clearly those people have it out for me. “Uh, no.”

“I’ll walk you then.”

You blinked and turned to face him. “What?” Very eloquent.

“You’re pretty drunk. It wouldn’t be a good idea for you to walk alone.”

“Right. You don’t even know how far I’m going though!” Why am I questioning the fact that the guy I like is offering to walk me home? Hello? What are you doing?

“All the more reason. You think I trust those corrupt heroes?”

Right it’s about the heroes. Stain’s tenets. “Okay.”

Spinner nodded. “Alright. Which way?”

Gods his eyes are so nice and I love the color of his scales. I wonder what they feel like. And his hair! I want to paint him. It could be like the Titanic movie – maybe less tragic though. I hope. I wonder what movies he likes. I know he likes some of the games I do but I wonder about movies – oh, and books! Wait he asked a question! Answer! “Which way for what?”

“… which way are you going?” His question was slow and deliberate and his face confused.

“Oh… home, I guess.”

“Yes but which way is that?” Now his voice was annoyed.

This is a good chance to say something. Should I say it now or wait? If I say it when we get the door that might not look good… on the way wouldn’t be good either he’d be obligated to finish walking me home even if he doesn’t like me. But of course he likes me! Hopefully. Gotta be like a bandaid though. Like a bandaid. “I have a crush on you.”

If his face wasn’t confused before-

Fuck! “The thing Dabi said. It’s about you. Not that I wanna fuck you – I mean not that I don’t. I do. But like not right now. Clearly!” Nervous laughter tumbled from you. “But I would cuz I like you. Like in a crush way! Not that you have to like me. But it would be uh… you know. Wow, that’s not really a direction, huh? And that’s what you asked me which is kinda… funny…”

Your voice and thought process had trailed off, and apparently Spinner had lost his because he didn’t so much as blink. The two of you starred at each other.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Put the bandaid back on!

You scratched your cheek. “Well that’s uh-”

“You’re drunk.” His voice was cold this time. You were surprised to see that his face had turned to a no nonsense one, and his shoulders were slouched stiffly. His eyes were focused on the brick wall to the left of you.

You bristled a bit. “I’m kinda tipsy but-”

“You think that’s funny? I didn’t think you’d stoop to something like that after only a couple of drinks-”

“I’m not stooping to anything. I don’t think it’s funny – I’m being serious!”

“You laughed!”

“From nerves!”

“I’ve heard this before. I know what your game is-”

“My game?” The heat of the alcohol was quickly being replaced by the heat of anger.

“Yes! This game you’re playing with Dabi!” His voice booming and leaning close, Spinner shook his head. “I know it.”

You clenched your fists and stiffened your jaw. “Dabi is a fuck. It’s not some game. He’s just like that – and you should know it.” Your words were cut by diamonds.

“Well you two must be some great partners in crime.”

“I- it’s – this-” You fisted your hands in your hair. “It’s not some fucking joke!” It was like one of those nightmares where no matter how hard you screamed it was just never loud enough and no one ever heard you or came to help.

Spinner’s mouth snapped shut but the anger didn’t drain from his face and his posture didn’t relax. If anything it became more rigid and tense. “I’m not some fucking fetish you can indulge yourself in.”

Did a truck just hit you? It felt like a truck just ran into you.

“How did we get to that?!” You screamed. Much like the incident in the bar this situation would be much better served if you just cut the engine and left. Your logical mind was never going to forgive you for this.

Spinner had no answer. Instead he just shook his head aggressively and growled. “Go back to the fucking bar and sober up. I’m not falling for whatever this is.”

“There’s nothing to fall-” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Spinner turned on his heel and speed off at a walking speed you just couldn’t hope to achieve with your now shaky legs and reeling mind. What. The. Fuck? The fuck just happened? You chanced a look around to see if there were was a camera crew camping out or any witnesses.

No one but you and the garbage cans in the alley now.

Your energy was sapped from you, and suddenly the wishy-washy feeling of being almost drunk came back full force. “Right. Back to the bar…” You took one shaky step while wiping away a tear before you realized that no, in fact you didn’t want to do that at all. There was more than enough embarrassment showcased to the league that day – they didn’t need to see you crying.

“Home I guess…”

[insidious-intent]

Brother Lover, Lover Brother

Instead of working on Wrong Trousers, here I am with the beginning of another long fic. This is the idea where instead of a clone, Michael instead has an identical twin. Shoutout to @larenoz for helping me with Michael’s twin’s name :)

The first phone call Alex made after receiving the job offer email was Jim Valenti. It’s been almost a decade since he officially became a Valenti, burying the Manes name, and legacy, and fear all with it. The day Jesse Manes was taken away from the house in handcuffs, Jim had promised Alex he would have a better life, and Alex has made damn sure of it. 

At age twelve Alex had promised himself he would have a better life, and sitting there in his first office, for his first real job a single week after graduation; Alex almost felt a sense of accomplishment. He was well on his way to achieving that goal of a better life. He turned around to look outside the window of his moderate sized office and let himself feel a moment of contentment. 

His phone rang where it was sat on his desk, and Alex glanced over to see Kyle’s drunk smile staring at him. Smiling, Alex picked up the phone. “Hey bro,” he greeted his adoptive brother.

“Bruh! You situated in your new digs? How does it feel to be working at Antar?” Kyle greeted him with his usual exuberance. 

“I’ve got a plushie chair and floor to ceiling windows. I think I finally made it,” Alex laughed his response. 

“So you’re like a big shot coder dude now?”

“Kyle, man, I explained this to you. I’m not a coder, I’m a Securities Design Engineer. Do I call you a kiddie doctor?” 

Kyle’s laugh filled him with joy, just like it always did. When he went from best friend to adopted brother, Alex wasn’t sure how Kyle would handle the change. The brief period when they were fourteen and Alex came out to his family were the toughest, and he was sure Kyle’s anger was going to turn into hate. But Jim and Michelle never let that happen, and by the time Alex left for MIT, he was happy to have his brother back. His real brother. 

Kyle was still talking on the other end. “Fine dude, but now that you’re back in Roswell, and have a cushy job, it’s time for us to get you a man! You’re too hot to be so tragically single, and I have a moral duty to find you the hottest guy now that we’re back home.” 

Alex sighed at Kyle’s enthusiasm. He had made the mistake of sharing his life plans with Kyle right before they went off to college, and Kyle has not forgotten how Alex planned to be in a steady relationship by the age of twenty-five. And now he was going to use all his brotherly knowledge to embarrass Alex. 

“Kyle seriously, I do not need your help with getting dates. Do not even think about it, I’m warning you.”

“I’m just being a good brother.”

“I won’t hesitate to get mom involved. You know how she feels about you not not dating,” Alex shot back. 

“Alex! I thought we talked about this!” Kyle’s shocked response was almost a squeal. 

Alex grinned and turned towards the door. And suddenly felt all the breath leaving his body in a whoosh. The most gorgeous man Alex had ever laid eyes on was standing at his office door, and Alex felt like he was dreaming. The man had the most gorgeous amber eyes, honey blond curls cropped short on the sides, long on top. A tempting curl hung over an eye. The man wore a well cut, well-fitted navy suit, and seeing him leaning there with a smirk on his face felt like the beginning of the best kind of dream. 

“Kyle, I’ll call you back,” Alex whispered and hung up before he could hear a response. 

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” the handsome stranger said, sauntering inside the office. 

“Oh no,” Alex stuttered, “my brother was just calling to check in.” 

“How very family oriented of you,” the man smirks. “I just wanted to come introduce myself to the newest addition to the Securities team. I’m Chris,” he said with an extended hand. 

If Alex was a little too enthusiastic handshake, no one had to know. He couldn’t help but notice how smooth Chris’ clearly manicured hand was, smooth and soft. 

“I would love to take you out,” Chris said, “to lunch of course.”

Alex couldn’t believe his luck. He had a degree, a great job, and now the man of his dreams just asked him out. Life was really good.

***

“Wow dude, if I’d known you were on such a lucky streak I’d have made you buy a lottery ticket,” Kyle yelled wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulder as soon as they walked in through the doors of their favorite bar and restaurant, The Wild Pony. Hopefully Maria was there tonight to save Alex from the onslaught of brotherly love. 

Speaking of the woman. “Alex has always been the luckiest one,” came Maria’s voice from behind the bar. Alex gave her a grateful smile, knowing his friend wouldn’t let his brother get too overzealous. 

“Deluca, you don’t even know the half of it. This guy here starts at the biggest defense contract firm in New Mexico and already has a date with a hot guy!” Kyle announced with a flourish, taking a seat right next to Alex at the bar. 

“Ok it isn’t like I’m dating the guy,” Alex clarified. “Yet.”

Maria laughed. “Who is this man who stole your heart so quickly? Give us some details here, Alex.”

“Ok, so. His name is Chris, he works in my company, hot as hell, wears extremely well-tailored suits, and has curls that I want to push my fingers through all the time. So yeah basically the man of my dreams,” Alex said. 

“Chris? With curls? That seems very familiar,” Maria mused while pouring them a drink. 

Kyle looked at Maria, “you know this guy?” 

Maria pushed the drinks at them, “I think he might be this guy I’ve seen hanging out with the Evans twins.” 

“Isobel and Max? Damn, Alex I think you bagged a rich dude,” Kyle answered. 

Alex was curious now, “you know the Evans twins? Aren’t they like Roswell royalty?” 

Maria’s response was laughter. “Yes they are. Their parents started the company you’re working for now, and combined they have more degrees than half the town. Isobel’s boyfriend is the one who got Liz’s dad through the whole citizenship ordeal, and Liz and Max dated for a while.” 

Alex had so much hometown gossip to catch up on, and from all the nodding Kyle was doing, he knew all this before Alex did. But tonight was about celebrating life moving in the right direction for him, and Alex didn’t want his family and friends forgetting him for gossip. 

“You guys are here to celebrate with me, not update me on the lifestyles of the rich and the famous. Let’s get back to drinking,” he said, slapping his hands on the bar counter. 

“And what about your rich hottie?” Kyle jokingly asked. 

“That’s definitely the kindest way you’ve described me so far, Kyle,” came a new voice from behind Alex, and he whirled around to see Chris standing behind him. He looked just as delectable in dark skinny jeans and a plaid shirt under a leather jacket, as he did with a suit. 

“Guerin? You’re my brother’s object of desire?” Kyle asked, bewildered. He turned to look at Alex with a faint sense of hurt, as if Alex did something wrong here by finding an attractive man, attractive. 

Shit. So the handsome guy Alex was lusting after was none other than the son of Rath Guerin, one of the two founders of Antar Inc. the company he started working at. Today. The potential for disaster was high, but one look at Chris in those tight jeans made Alex forget all about the risks of wanting the son of the company’s president. 

“Hello to you too, Kyle. Maria, how are you?” Chris asked, throwing a smile at Maria that had her blushing in return. He sat on the other side of Alex with a brush of his fingers on Alex’s shoulder, and then it was Alex’s turn to blush. 

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant hazy blur for Alex. Despite the less than stellar start, Kyle managed to warm up to Chris, who was all around charming and funny. And at the end of the night, he placed a hand low on Alex’s back to ask him if Alex could walk him back to his car. 

Standing in the parking lot’s semi-darkness, surrounded only by the dark landscape of the New Mexico desert and the loud noises of the Pony, Alex felt like he was walking on sunshine. Even though he hadn’t expected to run into Chris that night, he was glad at how well he fit with his friends, and now he hoped to end the night with a kiss. 

Chris played with his sleeves for a moment, before looking up and smiling at Alex. “I had a good time tonight. I think your brother finally likes me.” 

Alex laughed, “yeah he doesn’t always trust the guys I want to date.” 

“Oh? Are you saying you want to date me, Alex?” 

Alex stumbled, trying to recover quick. “Uh, I mean, I don’t have- we don’t need -”

Chris kept smiling as he got a hold of Alex’s jacket lapel and pulled him close. “I guess this counts as the first date then,” he said softly, his eyes moving down to Alex’s lips. 

Alex’s heart was thudding in his chest. He like he was on fire everywhere his body touched Chris’ body, and his eyes couldn’t move away from his lips. Alex wanted to kiss him so bad. 

“If this is a date,” Chris starts, “can it end with a kiss?” 

Instead of responding, Alex grabs his face and kisses him. The kiss was everything Alex wanted, and yes he may not have any idea what he was going to do the next day when reality dumped ice water on his head, but tonight, in the arms of the handsomest man he’d seen, Alex felt like all his dreams were coming true.