#We just ignore the cake and settle for some curry instead :))) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mintchocolateleaves · 5 years ago

Text

Simmer Down (1/2)

Summary: Kaito loves sweets. Aoko (sort of) loves baking. They're a predestined match, OR, Aoko tries to confess through the art of baked goods, and Kaito doesn't really understand, but he'll be damned if he turns down any of these free treats.

A/N: For @sup-poki. Thanks for indulging me and letting me ramble AU ideas at you, and for rambling back. I’m splitting the secret KaiAo project into two now, because it’s over 10k. I hope you enjoy it. xx

[If tumblr formatting is being a bitch, then here’s the Ao3 link]

Aoko doesn’t really mean to develop a bug for baking.

It’s a little like an addiction, she supposes. But it’s not her fault. If anything, it’s that idiot Kaito’s fault – because she wouldn’t bake so much if there wasn’t someone for the treats to go to.

So yes, maybe it’s Bakaito’s fault all along.

It definitely is.

“Aoko,” Kaito says, and his voice is slightly tired, since he’s starting to fall asleep at her kitchen table, “can we stop now?”

It’s not that Kaito isn’t a diligent student, Aoko knows that he is, really, somewhere deep down. It’s just that, there are bags under his eyes, as if he’s had a few late nights recently.

Aoko had dragged him out of his house early this morning, instead of letting him sleep in – a waste, she thinks, of a perfectly good Sunday – to try and get their joint history project finished.

It’s not due for a while, but if they finish the report then they can relax and won’t have to worry about it anymore. Plus, maybe then, Kaito will have enough time to finish whatever tasks are keeping him up at night, so he can sleep properly for once.

God, what does a guy like him spend his nights doing anyway?

Probably planning stupid magic tricks, that are neither stupid, nor magic. Still, he should learn not to be so obsessive over things to the point where he loses sleep. It’s not healthy, and it leads to things like this, him slowly drifting off at her kitchen table, despite the fact that it’s weird.

Kaito is supposed to have boundless energy, jeez. It’s weird if he’s sleepy.

“I suppose we can take a break,” Aoko says, eventually, leaning back in her chair. They have been working for a while now, and a quick glance at the clock shows that it’s almost noon. “I’ll cook something for lunch.”

This would normally be the point, Aoko thinks, where Kaito would spring up and suggest something that could be made. Instead, he lowers his head onto the table and lets out a small groan.

It’s weird, in the fact that Aoko thinks it’s a very normal teenage thing to do, and thus, not like her friend at all.

“You’re so cruel,” Kaito complains, eventually, “waking me up so early. I wanted sleep.”

“I woke you up at nine a.m. Bakaito,” Aoko says, “it’s not too early. If you didn’t stay up half the night, then you’d sleep like a normal person.”

Kaito gives her a faint-hearted glare, that only sleepy, called-out people are capable of replicating. It’s like, a sleepy gift that the gods bestow on night owls or something. Aoko isn’t completely sure.

She wouldn’t know. Like a sane person, she sleeps.

“I’m going back to sleep.” Kaito says, adjusting his arms so they’re beneath him, acting as a pillow. It can’t be comfortable, and Aoko just knows he’ll wake from his nap with a cricked neck, but she doesn’t stop him.

“I’ll wake you up when the food is ready.”

Kaito hums and that’s enough of a response for Aoko. She heads to the kitchen, ignoring the idiot asleep at her kitchen table, and heads towards the rice cooker instead.

She could make onigiri. It’s simple and she should have some pickled plums that she could put into them. And some canned tuna. It seems she can go with a selection of onigiri then.

Setting the rice cooker up doesn’t take long and setting the filling and nori on the kitchen side isn’t a long task either.

Aoko sighs. With Kaito asleep, she’s left to just think, trapped in her own head. She wouldn’t mind putting the radio on or just doing something fun, but Kaito had always been a light sleeper when they’d had sleepovers as kids and she doubts that’s changed.

If only he had a little burst of energy.

Dammit.

Although – actually, maybe that’s something she could go with. Onigiri is good at being filling, but it won’t give Kaito a burst of energy immediately, so maybe she could make something else too, something a little sugary?

It could be a nice treat to keep them motivated for their project too. God only knows what Kaito could get up to if he gets too bored and distracted, Aoko’s only just gotten the glitter out of the cushions from last time.

What ingredients does she have?

There is a Tupperware box in the pantry that is filled with random ingredients used for cooking. Inside, there is flour – a small bag of plain and another with self-raising – and some sugar. Aoko grabs both.

They don’t have eggs, so there’s no chance of making any cakes, but they might be able to…

Aoko leaves the bag on the side, grabs the scales from beside the Tupperware box and then heads towards the fridge. Butter – unsalted – sits on the top shelf, mostly forgotten until now.

Perfect.

Only a few ingredients, but she knows that it’ll make something sweet and tasty. She’s not cooked the recipe she has in mind for a long time – not since she was a child and her father had a little extra free time – but she knows she can make something nice.

Grabbing a mixing bowl, she begins by weighing out the sugar, and the butter, before beating them together into a mix with a spoon. To some, Aoko supposes the mixing of ingredients would seem monotonous, but to her, the repetitive movements are almost calming.

Then, she sieves in the flour.

Or, well, she attempts to. She pours too much into the sieve at once, creating a plume of flour, like a soft cloud that tickles the back of her nose. Aoko resists the urge to sneeze.

“Oh wow,” Aoko mutters to herself, trying to sieve the flour into the bowl, and managing to dust the kitchen counter instead. “Why does it always have to be so messy?”

She turns, glances at Kaito, watches his breathing, his shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly. She grabs a stray handful of flour, tiptoes over to him, and blows it in his direction.

He twitches. Aoko supresses a laugh, settles on grinning at the flour dusting his hair, before turning back to her bowl. There’s not much left to do now, just stirring in the flour, and then baking the mixture in the oven.

Then… she can get started on the onigiri.

You know what, she’s going to force Kaito into doing the dishes, it’s what she deserves. And what he deserves too, for being so lazy and not helping with the cooking.

Not that Kaito can cook, really. Or rather, nothing other than instant ramen and the odd store-bought curry mixture. Without her and her dad, he’d be unhealthier than the skin and bones he is now. Ugh.

“Kaito’s so stupid,” Aoko says, as she remembers that she forgot to preheat the oven. She’ll just have to put the mixture in after she’s made the onigiri rather than during the making of each rice ball.

Oh well. She’ll leave the mixture in the fridge for a while to set then.

Behind her, sprinkles of flour across his shirt, Kaito continues to sleep, unbeknownst to her hard efforts. It almost makes Aoko want to kick him.

Here’s a truth that Aoko hasn’t quite accepted yet: She’s pretty sure she’s in love with the pain in the ass idiot who’s napping at her kitchen table. She’s been trying to hide it for a while, because really, she’s only pretty sure, and not one hundred percent certain of it.

Like, sure, his smile makes her stomach flip, and she finds herself looking forward to seeing him, which could be a symptom of love, but the former could be stomach issues and the latter could be like, a brain tumour or something.

Maybe she should get checked out to be doubly sure.

Because even if it isn’t sickness, then it’s probably insanity because really, this is Kaito. Chaotic, irritating, handsome Kaito.

“No!” Aoko grumbles to herself, because of those labels one shouldn’t belong and she definitely doesn’t want to start considering how handsome her best friend is while he’s right there.

Shut up brain, she thinks to herself, he’s not. Kaito’s too stupid to be handsome.

‘Denial,’ sings the little voice in her head that sounds like him. It’s frustrating to say the least.

“Shut up!” She snaps, and then, lifts her hands up, slapping the blush from her cheeks. It’s not very effective – the skin still burns, but now there’s a stinging too. “Idiot Bakaito!”

The idiot in question, ever so slightly lifts his head up from the table, squinting across at her. Lifting his hands up to rub at his eyes almost makes him look cute, but Aoko knows him.

Cute or not, this boy is still a menace and she will not be fooled.

“What’ve I done now?” Kaito whines, his words long and drawn out, similar to the yawn that follows.

Aoko, not sure how to form an answer, decides simply to point, waving her hand up and down the general form of his body.

“You can’t just point at all of me!” He says, and then, pushing himself up, he points back. “You woke me up to point at me!”

“You were snoring,” Aoko says for lack of any reason to be calling him an idiot. “It was very annoying.”

“I do not snore!”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t!”

“How would you know you don’t snore,” Aoko says, crossing her arms now and leaning forward, “if you’re asleep? You wouldn’t.”

Kaito glowers in a way that shows Aoko that she’s probably going to be the victim of a magic trick again soon, but for now, she savours the glare. Because for one of the first times in her life, Kaito does not have a comeback.

“I’m right and you’re wrong,” Aoko says, “end of discussion. Now sit down, I’ve made onigiri.”

The glowering falters and Kaito, muttering something under his breath about how he’s going to prove he doesn’t snore, sits without arguing.

It’s a welcome change to the usual bickering, Aoko knows, and she finds herself smirking as she does so. She places the onigiri on the table and then, eagerly, she skips back to the oven, grabs the oven gloves and slides them on. Then, pulling open the oven, she brings out the baking tray, looking down at her creations.

Aoko grins.

“What’d you make?” Kaito asks, popping up beside her, almost making her jump out of her skin. “They smell good.”

He looks down, and Aoko sends him a look that says, if he doesn’t know what she’s made then he’s an idiot.

“Cookies?”

“Shortbread.” Aoko says, placing the tray down on the kitchen side. “We don’t have eggs, so I couldn’t make cookies.”

Kaito hums, leans forward and like the thief he adores so much, attempts to grab one. Aoko smacks him with her oven gloves. He gives up easily enough, a smirk pulling up at his lips.

“I didn’t know you needed eggs to make cookies.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Aoko says, hitting him with the oven gloves a second time, watching as he dances backwards, “you’re so good at chemistry but it doesn’t seem to translate over to baking.”

“We all have our flaws.”

Aoko turns from him, grabs the rest of the sugar she’s weighed out, and sieves it onto the shortbread. A sugary treat that hopefully will make them feel a little more energetic.

“You use the eggs to bind the ingredients,” Aoko says, finally, realising that Kaito’s practically leaning on her shoulder, watching her. She tries to avoid the flush that rises from her neck. “If you don’t, they’re all crumbly. Although, I guess you could use something else to bind the cookies together. It doesn’t have to be eggs.”

Kaito hums.

It’s at this point, that Aoko decides to scoop some of the shortbread pieces onto another plate. She brings them to the table, the plate clinking against the table as she places it down, slipping into her seat.

“Thanks for the food,” Kaito says, and leans forward for one of the shortbread pieces. Aoko, frankly, doesn’t know what she was expecting. Kaito’s always had a sweet tooth, of course he’d go for the sugary things before the onigiri.

Aoko, someone who does things in the correct order, grabs an onigiri and after muttering her own thanks, takes a bite.

She watches Kaito bite into the shortbread, watching as he chews, waiting for his verdict. For a moment, she’s worried that she’s made something horrible, but then, he grins.

“They’re good,” he says, around a mouthful. “I didn’t know you liked baking?”

Aoko’s cheeks burn. His eyes are bright, something she’s seen before when he’s tried new treats that please his sweet tooth but hasn’t exactly caused herself. Wearing an expression like that, how could she not be in love with him.

Her chest feels slightly tight, and it’s his fault, the bastard.

“Aoko?”

She blinks, realises that she’s simply been staring at him, remembering that he’s waiting on a response.

Does she like baking? Not really. But she loves that light in Kaito eyes, and Aoko kind of wants to replicate it. If baking manages that when she shares the end products with him, then by association, she does.

“Yeah,” she says, expression softening as she looks down at the plate. “I love baking, even when it annoys the hell out of me.”

“Well, you’re good at it,” Kaito says, and for once, the compliment isn’t brushed aside in the form of a defensive insult. “You should do it more often.”

“Maybe.”

Maybe, in this context, means I will, but Aoko can’t just say that. If she did, then Kaito would think she’s baking for him, and sure she is, but he’s not allowed to know that.

Kaito is grabbing his bag, class finishing for the day when Aoko corners him. She’s giving the impression that he’s not going to be able to escape, which, of course, is kind of impossible, since Kaito is a mastermind when it comes to disappearing.

It puts him on guard, slightly.

She’s been pretty calm during class today, and Kaito’s hardly done any outlandish magic tricks that might have pissed her off, so he can’t think of why he might have annoyed her into cornering him.

And she wouldn’t corner him for any other reason that to chase him for being a nuisance, probably, so Kaito is officially confused.

Oh well, he can already feel himself getting ready for a chase. He’s always enjoyed it when Aoko chases him, her attention on him, the two of them racing around, playing cat and mouse.

Er well – maybe cops and robbers, because Kaito doesn’t really think he fits the role of being a mouse.

“Aoko,” Kaito begins, taking a moment to eye her up and down. She doesn’t look like she’s about to attack, but it could be a ploy. “What’ve I done?”

She scrunches her nose, eyebrow quirking up, questioning. Like he’s being the strange one for asking, when she’s the one who’s cornering him in the classroom.

He kind of just wants to head home so he can start planning out his next heist. There’s a new exhibition and he needs to know what security they’re going to be applying for this one ahead of time.

“What are you talking abou–” Aoko shakes her head. “You’re so weird. I wanted to know if you were free tonight.”

Oh?

Aoko doesn’t often ask him if he’s free, not with confidence like this. Last time she asked if he was free, she stuttered and got all nervous with her words. If she’s not entering the house dragging him out, then she’s usually embarrassed about asking him to do something with her.

Part of him is curious.

The other, wiser, part of him tells him to be cautious.

“I might be…” Kaito says, squinting. She’s up to something, probably, but he can’t tell what. Maybe something innocent, but also maybe a plot to get him back for annoying her. “Why?”

Aoko waits a second, and then, the confidence almost seems to disappear. She crosses her arms, and says, “I just wanted to know if you were coming over for dinner with Dad and I today. It doesn’t matter.”

Ahh – yeah, he said he’d come over for dinner a few days ago. He’d almost forgotten. He’d have headed to the blue parrot without the reminder, and now, he’s almost tempted to bail because the heist is important.

But Aoko’s face.

He never likes watching her crumple, getting quieter. She’s meant to be feisty, to fight back with him and not just take it. Him not coming wouldn’t be too bad, would it?

Unless… Well, Inspector Nakamori has been working a lot of late nights because of him, hasn’t he? So maybe Aoko’s lonely. He’s making Aoko lonely? So… wouldn’t it be right to go anyway, and just stay up later to plan the heist?

A good plan, if he may say so himself.

“Sure, sure,” Kaito says, waving a hand. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

Aoko smiles, one of those smiles where he can see the dimples in her cheeks. Kaito pushes down any thoughts that might spring up from an expression like that, pushing himself forward and heading for the door.

He pauses, turning back for her. He asks, “are you coming?”

“Of course, I am!” Aoko says, stalking forward. She falls into step with him, and then, “I need to get groceries on the way back.”

Kaito groans. Whenever Aoko drags him shopping, it always leads to him carrying the bags. And she somehow always manages to make them heavy.

“If you complain,” Aoko says after a moment, and it sounds coy, almost mischievous, “then I won’t let you have dessert.”

Kaito narrows his eyes. He says, “what’s the dessert?”

“Nope,” Aoko says. “It’s a surprise.”

Aoko doesn’t usually do surprises, nor does she cook dessert, so Kaito, is officially confused.

“Bu–”

“Nope,” Aoko says. “I’m not telling.”

Kaito has half the mind to claim that Aoko might be up to something. He just doesn’t exactly know what that is.

In the store, as she’s inspecting eggs, Kaito leans forward with a guess.

“…Cookies?”

Aoko smiles to herself, shaking her head. She’s not going to tell him, not until she’s cooking, purely because it’ll frustrate him. As much as she’s excited to see Kaito trying this next recipe, she’s also amused to watch him guess.

“Not cookies,” Aoko says. They head to the next section of the store, where she picks up cocoa, and dark chocolate. She can almost see Kaito’s excitement.

He loves chocolate, after all.

Gosh, why is she spoiling him anyway? He’s not done anything worth spoiling him for this week. Although, well, the one magic trick he showed her in the park on the way to school yesterday morning was beautiful, with the doves, so maybe it could be a treat for that.

Yes, she’s baking because she wants him to know she appreciated the magic trick– not because she’s–

Aoko isn’t fooling anyone. She knows why she’s baking.

“Tell me!” Kaito whines, and when she turns, placing the chocolate into the basket she’s making him hold, she leans forward to flick him on the forehead. Careful not to crack the eggs in the basket, he doesn’t move quickly enough to avoid it. “Hey!”

“Patience,” Aoko says, because jeez, someone needs to teach him the word. “You’ll know later.”

“But I want to know now!”

“Tough,” Aoko says, trying not to laugh as he rubs at his forehead. Kaito’s grumbles send her over though, leaving her shoulders shaking as he stares down at her.

She turns, looking for other ingredients. She throws baking powder inside as well, and then, heads for ingredients for their dinner. Curry, she thinks, because there’s meat on sale and it’s easy to make.

“You’re going to have to carry the potatoes,” Aoko says, pointing towards a small sack of them. If she’s going to be using him as a pack mule then she might as well get him to carry things she wouldn’t want to if she were shopping by herself.

“Right,” Kaito says, voice dry. “Sure.”

“I would carry them,” Aoko says, “but they’re heavy, and I don’t want to.”

He makes a sound that seems almost like a mixture between a growl and a whine. “Okay.”

Brownies.

Aoko is making brownies and Kaito is stuck, watching her as she moves because she’s banned him from coming any nearer than the counter. Maybe because she’s already caught him reaching for a slab of the chocolate, slapping his hand away.

Honestly, Kaito’s getting slow if Aoko’s able to catch him.

Or maybe he’s just not trying hard enough.

Either way, Aoko’s making brownies, and all Kaito is allowed to do, really, is watch as she makes them.

He’s trying to finish his homework at the same time, since well – he is here already, and if that’s out of the way, then later tonight he can focus on heist planning completely – but he keeps getting distracted.

Kaito isn’t entirely sure why he’s getting distracted, because really, she’s not doing anything out of the norm, and it’s just baking. Maybe it’s because she seems so in her element that it’s hard not to watch her.

The little crease between her eyebrows as she sieves. The way her shoulders seem to relax, none of the usual tension as she mixes her ingredients, folding them together.

Aoko doesn’t seem to get excited like this, very often. A quiet excitement that lives in the curl of her lips, the flick of her wrist as she whisks the brownie mixture.

She really must love this. Baking things.

Kaito is completely, utterly, enraptured.

“What’re you looking at?” Aoko says, catching his eye as she begins to add the eggs into the mixture, sifting it with the flour.

“Nothing,” Kaito says, immediately defensive.

“Liar.”

“Not a liar,” Kaito says, “I’m just distracted by the chocolate.”

Aoko shakes her head at him, lets out a small laugh. She says, “you love chocolate too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much Aoko.”

Well, even he can admit there is but, not for him. He’s very tamed in his eating of chocolate, even if he loves it, and it tastes good. And oh god, thinking about the chocolate just makes him want to have some.

So much for tamed.

“After dinner you can have the brownies,” Aoko says, “but for now you have to wait… and finish your homework.”

Why does he have to do his homework if she’s not doing hers. Kaito sighs but relents. Fine.

A thought fills his head as he leans back over mathematics homework. He says, “you know, if you like baking so much, why don’t you join the cooking club? You won’t have to spend as much on ingredients then.”

Aoko hums, takes a moment to click her tongue, thinking the concept over. It’s not like she’s part of any after school clubs, to be honest, so it’s not like she’s short on time.

“Maybe,” she says finally.

“Keiko’s in that club, isn’t she?” Kaito says after a moment, musing over it. “You wouldn’t be alone if that’s what’s making you worried.”

For a moment, Aoko focuses on stirring the mixture, folding it in on itself over and over. Then, she says, “I’ll think about it.”

Aoko decides to join the cooking club when she sees Kaito’s eyes light up that evening around a mouthful of brownies. It’s just – how does she explain to Keiko, that she’s suddenly interested in cooking, without admitting it’s because of Kaito?

Oh no, she’s totally going to get teased, isn’t she?

Surprisingly, Keiko doesn’t tease her at first.

Maybe because Aoko doesn’t tell her that she’s been baking recently, and simply makes out that she wants to learn to cook a little better. Her friend pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and smiles instead, telling her she’ll help her get signed up.

In fact, no one really teases her the first few meetings. Not Asuna, who loves making cutesy foods despite her cool personality, or Megumi who enjoys adding fruits into pastries. And poor Kanae doesn’t tease her since everyone teases her about her crush on the captain of the karate team, so Aoko doesn’t really need to worry.

Aoko bakes every other day during school, and she takes buns, treats and fruit tarts home with her, offering them all to Kaito whenever she sees the lights on in his house.

It becomes a routine that she isn’t teased for, and honestly? Aoko finds herself enjoying the process so much more than she had previously. If anything, Aoko finds that she feels a lot less… lonely than she used to.

Ah, another thing she won’t admit to.

“This is becoming an addiction,” Kaito tells her one day on the walk to school, when she procures a little box with a muffin inside and passes it over to him. “You know that, right?”

Aoko flashes him a coy smile, skipping forward a little bit so that she can turn slightly and for a moment it almost catches Kaito off guard.

“For me or for you?” She asks, as if she knows. Of course she knows though, Kaito has never been quiet about his sweet tooth. But still, to tease him when he was trying to do the same to her?

This girl has too much power over him.

That’s not fair at all.

“For you, obviously.” He says, even though his voice aches to say for both of us. “My sweets intake is perfectly normal thank you very much.”

It really isn’t. Geez, his blood sugar levels are probably raised from all of these. His blood is probably more sugar than blood at this point.

Not that Kaito will complain.

“Sure, sure,” Aoko says, waving the words away. “I’m trying something new with Keiko today, so we’ll have some at dinner tonight. You’re still coming?”

Kaito, rolling his eyes, nods his head. He says, “Do I usually miss things when I say I’ll come to them?”

“I just wanted to be sure,” Aoko says, and then, after a moment longer. “Tell me how you find the muffin later, okay? I said I’d meet Kanae this morning!”

She runs ahead before Kaito can even realise who she means by Kanae. She must mean Matsuoka Kanae, the shy one from class 3c, right? Kaito hadn’t thought that they were on a first name basis.

Although, really, hadn’t Aoko mentioned that the cooking club were all quite informal with one another? All of them close with an immediacy that she’d not really experienced before.

Eh, who cares.

“She’s so weird,” Kaito mutters to himself, looking down at the muffin box. He opens his bag, placing it inside. “I bet she’s up to something.”

“I was thinking we could try a few different flavours,” Keiko says that afternoon, when Aoko is tying up her apron. It’s a plain apron unlike the polka dotted one she has at home, but it serves the same purpose. “Since we’re practising for the culture festival.”

Aoko crosses her arms, taps her finger against her cheek to try and muse over the different flavours. When Megumi had explained that her class had decided on running a café for the festival, they’d all jumped at her request to help her with the baked treats.

Now they just have to decide on what they want to make.

“I think we should go with the more popular flavours,” Aoko says. “That way everyone has at least one flavour that they might like.”

“How about, lemon, vanilla and pistachio?”

Well, they are quite regular flavours for the macarons they’re going to attempt, but they’re missing a flavour.

“And chocolate.”

Keiko raises her eyebrow. She says, “You like cooking chocolatey things, don’t you?”

For a moment, Aoko pauses, and then, a startled laugh catches against her throat.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Keiko catches Aoko’s eye for a moment, and then, glances across at their other club members, the other three working together on ideas for fruit tarts they could make. She says, “Who knew that Aoko had a sweet tooth? Did you guys know?”

Asuna jumps at the topic, leans forward. Her fringe covers her eyes for a moment, a grin forming on her face. It feels sinister. “I’ve never seen Aoko eating the chocolate creations, you know?”

“Oh yeah!” Megumi continues, “Aoko always takes them home with her, but I’ve never seen her try them.”

Kanae lifts her hands to her mouth, gasping. She says, “I bet that she’s giving them to someone.”

“A boy?”

“Definitely a boy.”

Aoko feels fire dancing across her skin. It rises up her neck, across her cheeks, burning her from the inside out. She wishes that her hair wasn’t up in a ponytail, because at least then she’d be able to hide behind it.

“D-Don’t be stupid,” Aoko stutters, “I would – I wouldn’t – no way I’d go around cooking things for a boy.”

“Sounds like denial to me,” Megumi says.

“So, there is a boy,” Asuna continues, leaning forward on the counter, as if she wants to climb over and shake all the information free from Aoko’s brain. “All we need to do is find out who.”

Aoko looks to Kanae for help – surely, she will help because she understands what it’s like to be teased like this – and finds no ally in her. She looks too excited, like the rest of them.

Then, she turns back to Keiko. Her best friend is watching her, and tilts her head after a moment, her pigtails swishing beside her. A smile, slow, spreads across her lips.

“I know who it is,” Keiko says.

“Keiko!”

“It’s Kaito-kun from class, right? You two have been close forever.”

Aoko feels like her cheeks are burning so much that she might just pass out. She tries to stutter no’s and it’s not like that but they catch until all she’s mumbling is nonsense and gibberish.

“Kuroba Kaito?”

“Kuroba-kun is so handsome, wow Aoko, you’ve got good taste.”

“He’s got a big sweet tooth,” Keiko says, “and he loves chocolate. It’s definitely him.”

For a moment, Aoko stares between them all, horrified and embarrassed, and then, very slowly she lifts her hands up to her face to hide behind them.

“Aoko’s seducing Kuroba-kun with her cooking!” Kanae says, and she’s blushing too now, as if the entire concept is scandalous. “You’re so bold, and here I thought you were innocent.”

“Hah,” Aoko sinks to the floor, “shut up, I don’t like Kaito, he’s such a pain!”

Keiko leans forward, grins. She says, “We didn’t say anything about you liking him, just cooking for him. You added that yourself.”

Aoko lets out a small squeak, and decides that even if it is ungraceful, she’s going to try and disappear in a ball on the floor. Keiko joins her, light dancing across her gaze, but Aoko tries to ignore her.

“Kanae said I was trying to seduce him!”

“Oh yeah, okay, that’s true.” Keiko pauses, and then, “are you sure you’re not trying to seduce Kaito-kun with all your baked goods?”

Another squeak. Aoko feels almost like a mouse surrounded by house cats.

I’m so sorry Kanae, she thinks to herself, I won’t tease you ever again. This is so embarrassing!

“I don’t want to seduce Kaito!”

“Aoko’s lying,” Megumi croons, her voice almost like a song. She’s far too happy about this. She’s the devil. “You give them to him, right?”

“Stop!” Aoko says, weakly. When she looks up, she’s surrounded by her clubmates. Keiko sat beside her. Kanae and Asuna stood behind Megumi, who’s leaning down to face her.

They’re all waiting, expectant, for the truth.

“Ugh, fine.” Aoko pushes herself up, brushing the creases from her uniform. “I like baking for Kaito. But it’s not because I want to seduce him – I just… it makes him happy, okay?”

“Ah,” Kanae says, throwing herself forward, her arms around Aoko’s body in a tight hug, “Aoko you’re so cute. This is so much better than seduction.”

“They say the way to charming a man is through his stomach.”

“You guys,” Kanae says, turning back and pointing at each other their clubmates, “we need to help Aoko make the best treats so she can win over Kuroba-kun. I won’t take no for an answer!”

“If Kanae’s fired up then of course we have to help too!”

Aoko blinks, watches her friends together as they start to come up with different recipe ideas and is uncertain whether she wants to disappear or hug the four of them.

“Can we just make these macarons now, please?”

You know, Kaito’s not oblivious, he does notice things.

He’s by no means a detective – someone shoot him if he ever takes that avenue of work – but he does pick up on things. Like how, at some point, the other members of Aoko’s club always seem very attuned to his presence whenever he comes to meet Aoko at the end of the day to walk home with her.

Not that he wants to wait, but sometimes he’s on cleaning duty and no matter how he wants to Aoko always manages to say something that makes him decide to stay back the rest of the time, waiting to walk home with her.

As he’s come to realise: She holds power over him, and it’s annoying because there’s nothing he can do about it.

Either way, he notices that the girls are attuned to him. In a – they always seem to quieten slightly when he comes, which he supposes shouldn’t be surprising but is.

Some of them always send little looks to the others, and Kaito feels like whatever Aoko is up to, they must be in on it to. And it’s probably no good at all. These girls must be demons.

He almost feels tempted to just wait for Aoko by the school gates, but then she’d probably make a scene or get angry at him or something. And honestly, he doesn’t want to piss her off when she’s so fresh from cooking.

…There are knives in those rooms.

He’d much prefer to be chased after with a mop than a knife.

“Aoko?” He says this time, since it’s another day where he’s being held back, waiting for Aoko. He’d gone to the library today, doing some research on his phone for heists, looking at the building plans that Jii has emailed him. “You ready?”

He turns the corner into the classroom and pauses at the sight of the five girls each covered with flour and trying to look as innocent as possible.

Kaito raises an eyebrow.

“Do I even want to ask?”

Asuna shakes her head. She says, “it’s probably for the best if you don’t.”

He turns to Kanae, who nods her agreement. To Megumi, who shrugs her shoulders. Then, to Keiko, who offers only a smile, before focusing on Aoko. Aoko who wide-eyed, is shaking with restrained laughter. She hides her mouth behind her hand, trying to remain silent.

Kaito, perhaps acting on his best impulses, simply raises his hands up and says, “this is me, not asking.”

“We’re almost finished now, Kaito-kun,” Keiko says, moving the conversation on, as she slowly pushes Aoko away from the over and back towards the buns that’ve been left on the cooling racks. “We just need to clean up.”

Aoko turns, reaching past the buns to grab hold of a cloth that’s by the edge of the side. As she leans, Kaito catches sight of her hair, pulled back into a braid. It’s different on her, makes her seem almost…

Soft? Is that the right word he’s after, Kaito isn’t sure?

Oh jeez, is he watching her? He definitely is. God, Kaito knows it’s creepy to just watch someone but it’s Aoko and recently she’s so distracting and it’s…

“Mmm,” Kaito says, trying to snap himself out of it. He’s almost oblivious to the looks the other girls send him – knowing, amused – but not quite. He realises he’s got their attention again, at least. “Do you guys want some help?”

“Kaito,” Aoko says, letting out a scoff, “asking if he can help clean, you must be an alien replacing him.”

He scowls, “I can clean.”

“Sure, you can Kaito,” Aoko says, and it’s clear she’s only humouring him. Which, quite frankly – he cleans his own house thank you very much. “Sure, you can.”

“Do you want the help or not?”

Aoko turns, looks between her clubmates, and then finally nods. She grabs a second cloth, passes it over to him with the directions of cleaning the sides opposite them.

“Maybe if Kuroba-kun’s really good,” Asuna says, “we’ll give you one of the buns.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kaito says, focusing on wiping away flour instead. “I just want to go home.”

This time, he misses the girls winking at Aoko, as if to say, ‘you’re welcome, and good luck’. He also misses the way Aoko glares at them all, red-faced and awkward.

“You’re wearing your hair differently,” Kaito says on the way home, and Aoko blinks, because this isn’t the normal kind of conversation they tend to have.

She lifts her hand to the braid, smiles to herself as she lets it drop again, her hair swishing behind her.

“Kanae asked if she could try braiding it,” she says. “She always wears hers in a braid, I think she just wanted someone else to try it too.”

Kaito hums. He says, “it’s – it kind of suits you.”

“Kind of?”

He startles. Only slightly, but enough that Aoko can catch the twitching of his fingertips as he tries not to get defensive. Kaito must still be practising his poker face like his father taught him to do when they were kids, because he manages to smooth his voice over.

“Yeah,” he says, “kind of. I’m used to your usual hairstyle, but this one’s not bad.”

Aoko lets out a small laugh, swings her bag in front of her ever so slightly. She says, “I bet you’re just saying that because I’m holding the buns right now.”

Shrugging, Kaito doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “It looks nice. I mean it.”

“Right, right.” It’s not that Aoko doesn’t believe him, it’s just. Kaito doesn’t really do compliments, not really. Not for her. It’s usually just banter and playful insults, not seriousness and niceties. “I think it’s definitely because of the food.”

“Heh,” Kaito says, and there’s the playfulness she’s been waiting for today. It’d been a little absent, for whatever reason. “You guys did say if I helped clean, I’d be allowed one, you’re not going to go back on that promise, are you?”

“It wasn’t me who made the promise,” Aoko laughs, and takes off racing down the street.

“Hey now!” Kaito says, and he’s very clearly chasing after her, she can feel his presence on her heels. Aoko laughs – it feels almost nice to be the one being chased, for once.

Asuna corners Aoko when she is washing dishes in the sink a few days later, her arms crossed and her expression stern. For a moment, it leaves her feeling nervous, anxious about whatever she’s done to disappoint her friend.

Then, Asuna says, “We’re going to phase two.”

“Phase two?”

Asuna nods her head, her bob bouncing with the movement. She says, “yes. I suppose plan B is more accurate, but phases sound more optimistic.”

Aoko is lost. She expresses as much, flicking water across at her friend.

“Phase two,” Asuna says, “is aimed at making Kuroba-kun realise you like him, and he likes you back, through the art of body language, and cookie cutters.”

“Cookie cutters?”

The smile she receives seems almost menacing as Asuna thrusts a finger towards her nose, Aoko going cross-eyed as she tries to focus on it. Quickly, Asuna turns, sweeping up something from a carrier bag she’s brought with her.

Aoko hadn’t even seen her bring it in, hadn’t even heard any plastic rustling. Jeez, Asuna can be sneaky sometimes.

“Exactly,” the girl says, lifting up the bag and pulling out a packet of cookie cutters. She holds them up and – ah – there it is. They’re heart shaped. “We’re bringing in the big guns!”

If cookie cutters are classed as the big guns, then Aoko isn’t quite sure what the little guns are like. Likewise, if cookie cutters are their big guns with stuff like this, then surely, they… there’s not a lot of hope for them, is there?

“Uh,” Aoko tries not to show the lack of excitement, but her eyes – dull – must give her away. Asuna’s shoulders drop. “Okay?”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Asuna says. “My plan is brilliant. We keep the confessions low-key, leave him to read into the clues we leave him. Like heart shaped cookies, and the likes.”

Heart-shaped cookies, and other romantic symbols in her cooking? Oh god, as much as Aoko loves her friend, this isn’t going to be good enough to get things through to Kaito.

He’s like, so thick skulled on things like this.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Aoko says.

Placing the cookie cutters onto the counter, Asuna very slowly leans forward, pressing her finger into Aoko’s shoulder. Aoko wavers, rocking back the balls of her feet from the pressure.

“It’s definitely going to work!” Asuna says. There is little doubt in her voice, which is foolish, Aoko thinks. “You’re just looking at this without any optimism, Aoko!”

Aoko’s beginning to think that her friend has managed to trick her into thinking she’s cooler than she is. Not – not that she’s uncool, per say, - but rather, she’d thought she was a cool and collected person and these past few days, she’s been anything but.

Now, flustered, claiming that these tricks absolutely work – how else did Aoko think she managed to win her girlfriend Kyoko over? – she seems much more ruffled.

“Asuna,” Aoko says, and now she places both hands on her friend’s shoulders, shaking her head. She says, “Asuna, listen, this kind of thing is cute and all, but it’s not going to work on someone as oblivious and dense as Kaito.”

“Kyoko can be oblivious.”

“For a girl maybe,” Aoko sighs. “But a girl’s obliviousness has nothing on a boy’s obliviousness.”

Understanding doesn’t so much as swim through her friend’s eyes, as paddle with very weak strokes. It’s better than nothing, Aoko supposes.

“We start subtle,” Asuna says, “because I’ve already bought the cookie cutters now, but we don’t leave it at that. We build upon it.”

Clicking her fingers and pointing at her friend, Aoko nods. She says, “It’s better than the previous idea.”

Asuna flushes. She says, “It’s not my fault you want to go out with someone so dense when it comes to romance.”

“It’s not like I had a choice of who to pick!” Aoko says. She’d had little choice at all, it’d just happened. One day she’d not been in love with Kaito – at least, not knowingly – and the next, she’d been panicking over the fact she might be moderately in love with him.

Some people said falling in love was like falling asleep – slowly, and then all at once. Well, Aoko refuses that sentiment because well, no. Falling in love with Kaito was like being hit by a truck.

Dangerous, and not without the risk of fatal injury.

“That’s true,” Asuna says, finally, reaching up to pat Aoko on the shoulder. “I bet you wouldn’t want to change it to someone else though.”

Probably not.

They use the cookie cutters.

Heart shaped cookies are placed inside a little bag, wrapped up, and Aoko tries not to cringe at how utterly cliché it feels to be giving someone heart-shaped cookies, but she does regardless.

“I hate this,” Aoko says, as she leaves the clubroom behind, only receiving a thumbs up from Asuna as she leaves.

“Good luck!” Asuna says, her voice chimed in with their other classmates. “Try to make it obvious!”

It’s going to go terribly, Aoko can already tell.

“We tried something different today,” Aoko says, and Kaito turns, looks back at her from where he’s been waiting by the school gates. He pushes away from the wall, falls into step beside her.

“Oh?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Aoko says, “we tried different shapes for the cookies and stuff, you know? These ones are for you.”

She passes a little bag of cookies over to Aoko, and Kaito takes them gingerly. He typically has them when he gets home, during homework and heist planning, but the look on Aoko’s face tells him he should be opening them now.

So, he does, pausing in his step so that he doesn’t do something stupid, like drop them or break them in two while undoing the ribbon on the bag.

A ribbon tying the bag together? Pretty fancy Aoko.

“Ah,” Kaito says, taking out one of the cookies. They’re heart-shaped, covering in a fine dusting of sugar. “These are cute.”

He bites into one, the sugar melting on his tongue, breaking the heart into two pieces. Then, he holds the bag out to her, an offer.

Aoko takes one slowly, bites into it.

Come to think of it, this is probably one of the only times he’s really seen her eating any of her own creations. She normally says that she’s already tried the things she makes in class and that she’s just sharing the leftovers.

“They’re good,” Kaito says, watching as Aoko nods along, almost hesitant. And then, “love hearts though – are you guys trying to make like, confessional cookies or something?”

It’s said to be teasing, and Kaito knows that he’s succeeded when Aoko flushes a deep crimson colour.

“No,” Aoko stutters, and then, at the sight of his raised brow, “maybe.”

“So, who is it?” Kaito asks. He pops the rest of the biscuit into his mouth, chews and continues, “who in the cooking club is looking to confess?”

Aoko’s eyes fill with what Kaito can only explain as a feral frustration. She looks, almost, like she’s going to hit him.

“What?”

“You’re so irritating,” Aoko says, shaking her head. She turns away from him. For a moment, Kaito is afraid she’ll stalk away, which is unnecessary, really, because he doesn’t even know what he’s done wrong?

“…I’m… sorry?”

“Why do they need to be the ones looking to confess?” Aoko stops walking now, cheeks red, her hands clasped together, white with pressure as she squeezes. “What if it were me trying to?”

“Why would you be looking to–” He pauses. “You’ve got a crush on someone?”

Kaito doesn’t really know how to respond to a declaration like that.

“I might,” Aoko says, crossing her legs and jutting her chin. “What of it?”

“What kind of guy would you have a crush on?”

Aoko’s face seems to burn. She doesn’t say anything. Kaito wishes she would say something but she doesn’t.

“Wait,” he continues when the silence becomes overbearing. “Is that what all this cooking is about?”

“O-of course n-n–”

Kaito throws a finger out, pointing. “You’re using me as a taste tester for the guy you like!”

Aoko blinks. Dejected, she mutters, “…what? That – that doesn’t even make any sense.”

“It does!” Kaito claims. “Your using me to make sure all the things you make are edible and tasty, so when you give them to him, they’re top tier! I knew you were up to something.”

Perhaps because she’s been found out, Aoko’s eyes look slightly dull. Like a child that’s been caught out in the middle of her plot. Or a criminal in the throes of being caught.

“You’re…” Aoko lifts her hands up, buries her face in them. “Such an idiot…”

#Yes so please enjoy the fluff au! I hope it'll satisfy your need for KaiAo my dudes!#Kuroba Kaito #Nakamori Aoko #KaiAo #DCMK #Detective Conan #Magic Kaito #fic: Simmer Down #mywriting #part two coming soon - aka - whenever I finish it

66 notes · View notes

albatrossmuffin · 6 years ago

Text

2018 Makoto Birthday Exchange: The Worst Day

Hi friends! I am participating in the @makotobdayexchange, and my gift is for the lovely @exquisitewallflower :D

Prompt: As long as Makoto is happy in the end and grows closer to others, I am happy. Try not to have it too sappy though. I like childhood friends, soulmates, first meeting, historical AUs, adjusting to college, etc.

I hope it isn’t too sappy >.<

Title: The Worst Day Rating: T [Ao3 Link] Summary: How bad of a day do you have to have in order to forget it's your own birthday? Makoto's about to find out. A story about how some of the very worst days can turn into the very best ones; in Makoto's case, it takes some determination...and a bit of help from a certain blue-eyed swimmer.

From the moment Makoto woke up he knew it was going to be a bad day. His alarm never went off, so he woke up late; he had to skip breakfast to barely make it to his class in time. And then, surprise! The professor gave them a pop quiz. Luckily Makoto had known enough not to bomb the thing entirely. He currently sat on a bench in the quad, trying to take a moment to enjoy a bit of fresh air before had to run to his next class. He still didn’t have time to grab any food.

He sighed. This whole ‘living alone’ business got pretty rough sometimes. It was so easy to just let the clothes pile up, or to get food from the convenience store instead of cooking…or to oversleep in the mornings. He wondered if he’d ever get used to this. Makoto gave himself a mental shake. Of course he would; he just needed practice! Look at Haru, he’s been living alone for years! I’ll get there eventually, Makoto thought, encouraging himself. I’ll just have a big lunch so I can make it through to dinner—

That’s right! Makoto suddenly remembered, sitting up straighter on the bench. I’m meeting Haru for dinner tonight! I have to text him so we can figure out when and where to meet…

Makoto put his hand in his pocket for his phone; he was surprised to find that his pocket was empty. After a brief moment of panic, he replayed this morning’s hectic events in his mind. He never grabbed his phone. And he wouldn’t have any time to go back for it until it was almost dinnertime.

Yep. Today just kept getting better and better.

---((Later))---

The rest of Makoto’s classes went by in a blur as Makoto constantly kept fretting about his phone—or, more accurately, constantly kept fretting about Haru’s reaction to Makoto’s lack of response. Makoto always responded, so Haru must be worried about him. Makoto felt more anxious as the day went on, and by the time he got off of the train at his stop at the end of the day he was ready to run to his apartment, grab his phone, and call Haru to apologize and reassure him that he was alright. He forced himself to settle for a fast walk, and upon reaching his door he hurriedly wrenched it open, intent on making a beeline for his phone. However, the sight that greeted him once he entered his apartment pulled him up short.

Haru sat on the floor at his table, head pillowed on his arms; his rhythmic breathing indicated he was fast asleep. Even in repose his hand gripped his cell phone tightly, like he was expecting a call.

…was expecting Makoto to call. Shit, why hadn’t he just borrowed someone’s phone? It’s not like Makoto didn’t know Haru’s number by heart. He was such an idiot—

Makoto’s thoughts derailed yet again as he noticed the rest of the contents of the table. Next to Haru was a big, elegantly decorated chocolate cake: the words ‘Happy Birthday Makoto!’ were inscribed on a small chocolate plate in the center. And next to that was Makoto’s phone, on silent but glowing with unread message after unread message.

Today was his birthday. Makoto let out one burst of hysterical laughter before quickly stifling it, not wanting to wake Haru. How did someone forget their own birthday?! He’d been so stressed and distracted all day that he’d never even thought about it. He picked up his phone to check a few of his many messages:

11:30am Happy birthday, Mako-chan!! ^.^!!

1:15pm Happy birthday, honey!! Call me when you get a chance, okay? I love you!

2:18pm So it’s your birthday huh, Makoto? Have a great one!!

4:45pm Makoto-senpai, Happy Birthday! I hope your day is going perfectly!

Makoto laughed quietly at the irony of Rei’s message before he scrolled up to his other messages. The first was from Haru, sent at midnight:

12:01am Happy birthday, Makoto. I know you’re asleep. I hope tomorrow is a good day. I’ll see you at dinner.

Makoto’s heart twisted as he read on:

8:30am What time do you want to meet for dinner?

9:42am Makoto?

10:36am Are you okay?

At this point, Makoto noticed several missed calls, too. He saw one last message:

4:30pm If you see this, I’m coming over.

Makoto looked down at the sleeping Haru. He’d probably figured it out as soon as he’d walked in the door. Makoto quietly walked over to the futon and grabbed a blanket, gently putting it over Haru’s shoulders. Makoto was sure that Haru was exhausted from both school and practice already, so any extra worry on his account today didn’t help matters. He’d let him sleep.

Makoto turned towards the kitchen, surprised to see a fresh bag of groceries on the counter. No doubt Haru planned to make him dinner tonight. Makoto grabbed his apron. Makoto would make dinner. He could at least do that right today.

…Hopefully.

---((A Little While Later))---

Haru stirred from his prone position on the table, roused by the smells of curry and cooking. He opened his eyes, narrowing them in confusion when he saw someone in the kitchen, cooking with the ingredients that he had brought.

“Makoto?” Haru asked drowsily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up. “When did you get home?”

“A little while ago. You looked so exhausted, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Haru quickly woke himself up the rest of the way and got to his feet, coming over to Makoto in the kitchen. “You should’ve woken me up; I was planning on cooking—”

“I know,” Makoto said, “but I wanted to do this.”

Haru remained stubborn. “But it’s your birthday—”

“I know, and to tell you the truth the day was so crazy I had completely forgotten about it until I saw your cake.” He finished stirring the sauce on the stove before he turned down the heat and faced Haru with a big sigh. “I overslept, had a pop quiz, forgot my phone, and made you worry,” Makoto summarized, conveniently leaving out the part about how much he had worried over upsetting Haru like that. “I wanted to do something right today.” He looked back at the stove, staring at the nearly-completed meal before him. “Needed to do something right today,” he muttered, correcting himself.

Haru, being Haru, understood the truth of the issue without Makoto having to spell it out. “Makoto, I’m sure you did plenty right today.”

“But—”

“You got to school in the end, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

“How did you do on that quiz?”

“…Not horrible,” Makoto allowed, “But—”

“And this curry looks delicious,” Haru complimented, and Makoto felt himself flush with warmth. Haru didn’t compliment cooking unless he absolutely meant it.

“Not every day will be perfect, Makoto,” Haru said, reaching out to absentmindedly put some of the spices away. “Living alone takes practice, and it won’t come all at once. But every victory is important, big or small. You’ve got to celebrate when you can.” He turned back to Makoto, giving him a small smile. “And today we have to celebrate especially.”

Makoto felt his stomach flip as Haru smiled at him in his special way. That particular smile was always for him, only for him, during special moments like these. “Thank you, Haru.” Makoto said, needing to voice the tender emotion welling up inside him, if only a little.

“Happy birthday, Makoto.” Haru said once again, and the two smiled at each other, saying more with their expressions and poignant silence than words ever could. Thank you for being born. Thank you for being here with me.

Makoto broke the silence first, feeling the need to apologize. “I’m sorry that I worried you today.”

Haru shook his head in response, brushing off the apology. “It’s okay; I figured something was up. And besides, I’m sure you worried enough about it today for the both of us anyways.”

Makoto winced. “Am I that predictable?”

Haru smiled again. “Only to me.” He tentatively reached out, taking Makoto’s hand in his. Makoto felt his stomach flip again; the tingles of pleasure and elation reached to the tips of his toes, all stemming from their joined hands. “Haru?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Go sit down,” Haru said in reply, ignoring Makoto’s questioning of his actions. “I’ll bring the food over; it’s the least I can do.”

Makoto spluttered in surprise. “What do you mean the least? Haru, you made a cake—”

“Makoto.” Haru said, and Makoto was silenced as Haru squeezed his hand. “You’ve had a rough day, and you’ve already taken care of me. Let me take care of you the rest of the night, if only as part of your birthday present.”

Makoto knew what Haru meant by that statement, but he still blushed at the inadvertent implication of his words anyways. “Okay,” Makoto whispered in reply, and he reluctantly let go of Haru’s hand, moving to sit down by the cake. “Does that mean you’re staying over then?” Makoto tried (and probably failed) to ask casually.

“If you don’t mind,” Haru said, bringing over two steaming bowls of green curry.

“Not at all!” Makoto answered, happiness enthusing his words. He took his bowl from Haru, thanking him. The two dug in; Makoto was surprised at how good it was. Perhaps he had been paying close enough attention when Haru helped him cook, after all.

Haru must’ve been thinking the same thing, because he said, “You’ve been paying attention.”

Makoto had the grace to at least pretend to look affronted. “I’ve been practicing!” he insisted, and Haru smiled at his reaction to the jibe.

“This is really good, Makoto,” Haru said seriously. “You did a great job.”

Makoto tried not to blush as he said, “Thank you…I learned from the best.”

Haru drank some of his tea so he could hide his face, but Makoto could still see the red tingeing his ears. He grinned to himself.

Today was getting better and better already.

---((Later))---

The rest of dinner passed quickly, and after enjoying Haru’s homemade cake (which was amazing, Makoto insisted), before long it was time to get ready for bed. Haru came back from the bath to find Makoto pulling out the extra futon, setting it close (but not too close) to his.

“Makoto,” Haru started, and Makoto looked up, dropping the futon in place. “I want to give you your present.”

Makoto’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But Haru, you already made me that gorgeous cake—”

“That doesn’t count,” Haru said, waving what must have been hours of hard work away like it was nothing. “Sit down.”

Makoto sat down on his futon, and Haru settled next to him, crawling closer than he usually would to his side. Makoto’s eyes widened the tiniest fraction. “Haru?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” Haru admitted feely, color already creeping up his cheeks. “So I’ll get right to the point. I had no idea what to get you for your birthday this year, Makoto. You might not agree with me because of how your day went today, but I think you already have everything you could ask for. You’ve got a part time job that you love, you’re studying to achieve your dreams, you have friends who care about you, and…and we’re together.”

Makoto’s eyes widened for real this time, but he stayed silent so Haru could continue. “There was only one thing I could think of that you might want for your birthday.” Without further ado, Haru closed any remaining distance between them by crawling into Makoto’s lap. Makoto let out an inelegant squawk of surprise as Haru wrapped his arms around Makoto’s back, tucking his now-burning-red face against Makoto’s neck. Before Makoto could question him, Haru forced the rest of his words out. “I’m your present. And if you want me, I’ll stay by your side for as long as you want.”

Makoto tried to remember how to breathe as he angled his head, trying to see Haru’s face. Does he mean—? he thought, his mind spinning. Makoto gave himself a mental shake, trying to get a grip. What else could he mean? There was only one thing Makoto could do to find out. He cupped Haru’s cheek with a hand, locking his eyes with his. “And what if I want you by my side forever?” Makoto asked in a soft whisper.

Haru gave him that special smile again. “Forever it is then.” Makoto smiled in return, and they leaned towards each other at the same time, their lips meeting for the first of what was sure to be many kisses. One of Haru’s hands snuck up into Makoto’s hair, gently combing through the soft locks; Makoto made soft, pleased noises against his lips in response, welcoming the touch. Makoto, wanting to touch Haru too, brushed his thumb against Haru’s cheek as they kissed. After another moment, Haru pulled back briefly, his hand sliding back to hold Makoto’s hand to his cheek.

“I forgot the important part,” Haru said, and Makoto stifled a giggle.

“This part seems pretty important to me,” Makoto replied, “What did you forget?”

“I love you,” Haru said, leaning in to kiss Makoto again. “I love you so much, Makoto.”

Makoto’s smile brightened exponentially as he rested his forehead against Haru’s. “You’re right; that is pretty important.” He giggled again before he dropped a happy kiss onto Haru’s nose. “I love you too, Haru. This is the best birthday present I ever could’ve asked for.”

With the other futon forgotten, the two comfortably settled into Makoto’s futon together; Haru settled down against Makoto’s chest as Makoto wrapped a steady arm around his waist. Once they’d found a position, Haru leaned up to kiss Makoto goodnight. As Haru settled back down again, Makoto frowned to himself, overwhelmed by the surreal situation. Was he dreaming or something? Considering how his day had started, there was no way this could—

“You’re not dreaming, Makoto.” a voice said from the darkness.

Makoto couldn’t hold back a laugh. Haru knew him all too well. “I was just thinking, the day had started out so terribly…”

Haru sat up a bit so he could try to look at Makoto properly in the darkened room. “I hope you don’t find it so terrible anymore.”

“I don’t!” Makoto insisted, tightening his grip on Haru’s waist, “I just can’t believe it. If you had told me when I woke up this morning that this would be my best birthday ever, I’d have laughed at you.”

Haru gave him an uncharacteristic grin before he laid down again. “I’m glad you think that…but just wait until next year.” Now that the two were together together, Haru could think of a whole host of possible things he wanted to do for Makoto on his birthday, all with the goal of making him feel special and loved. He’d have to make a list…

Even in the dark, Makoto could see the familiar blue glint of determination and enthusiasm in Haru’s eyes. Seeing that look, Makoto was both excited and afraid at the same time. When Haru set his mind to something like that, anything could happen. Anything. Makoto brought his free hand to Haru’s cheek, tilting his face so he could look at him more clearly; he hoped that Haru could see his expression of happiness and genuine love through the darkness when he replied:

“I can’t wait.”

And he meant it.

---((The End!))---

#makotobirthdayexchange #makotobday2018 #free!#makoharu #makoharu fanfiction #my fanfic

23 notes · View notes

officerjennie · 6 years ago

Link

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui Characters: Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Kagami, Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Fugaku Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, mostly pre-slash, Rating May Change, No Underage Sex, Not promising regular updates Summary:

Snippets of Shisui's life, often revolving around his favorite, albeit rather withdrawn, cousin.

Click the link or continue below the line to read!

Also, I officially have a Ko-Fi (link in header) :)

October came and went, Shisui’s smile waxing and waning with the moon. Even Halloween had little flare, the chill in the air flushing his cheeks red and cracking the skin of his palms.

After November began too soon, he briefly considered making a fuss - but the dark circles under his mom’s eyes gave him pause, and the ever-growing distant look on his father’s face made up his mind.

Instead, Shisui sat in the floor of his room with a few of his old toys around him, quietly celebrating his late birthday with an imaginary too-sweet cake and hand-me-down presents.

His mother startled him awake the next morning with near desperate shaking of his shoulder. “Shisui, you sleep like the dead!” Shisui sat up, barely aware of his mother’s huffing and grumbling as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Kaa-san, it’s Saturday.” He continued to whine as his mother went about his room. She stopped at the toys in his floor, still placed in a semi-circle from his late-night celebration, and tisked before shoving them all into his toy basket.

“Must you leave your floor a wreck? And no, it’s Sunday - come on, Shisui, you need to get dressed.”

He held back a groan, but only barely, as she searched through his clothes for who-knows-what. As she went on mumbling to herself, he turned his head, eyeing his pillow briefly before shrugging and flopping back down. He threw the top of his futon over his head and once again was graced by the blissful warmth and darkness.

When his mother woke him up again, she was practically hissing in anger. She tossed his clothes down on the bed next to him, demanding he put them on quickly before coming down for breakfast.

“And,” she stopped in the doorway, a hand on the doorknob and her eyes narrowed, “do not. Make me come dress you.” She shut his door hard, the frame shaking slightly and leaving the room quiet.

Shisui pouted, fiddling with his night shirt. It was probably best to do as she said. He wasn’t the smartest kid in his class - his no-better-than-average grades would testify to that - but he could tell she was getting angry, and he hated when his mom was angry with him. So he abandoned the warmth and comfort of his futon, this time not bothering to hold back his groan, wondering where they could be going in such a hurry on a Sunday.

He got dressed quickly and headed out to the living room, sticking his legs under the kotatsu as he settled in - it wouldn’t be turned on for at least another month, but it was still warmer underneath the blanket. While he waited for breakfast, he poked at a small hole in his pants, rolling his eyes around the living room in hopes something would catch his attention.

The living room was small. Everything here was smaller - the bathroom, the kitchen, his room. There wasn’t even a balcony here for his mom’s plants like their last place. He remembered she had looked sad giving most of them away when they moved here.

They’d only been here a few months, and Shisui still didn’t like it. There was no upstairs, their neighbors were too loud, and everything felt too tight and too big all at once. Thinking about it for too long made his head and chest hurt.

His mother brought two plates from the kitchen and sat across the kotatsu from him. Leftover curry and rice. He scrunched up his nose but said nothing, picking up his spoon to at least poke at a carrot or two.

She didn’t let him laze around like usual, rushing them both out of the house and ignoring Shisui’s grumbling protests.

“Kaa-san, are we going to the shrine?” They were already walking down the stairs to the train station when he bothered to ask. Every month or so she would drag him to the local shrine. It hadn’t been something they’d done when he was younger, at least as far as he remembered, but it wasn’t like he minded the trips. He liked walking through the gardens, even if his mom often had to scold him for being too loud.

“No, we’re visiting my sister.” The gate beeped as they went through, his mom sticking their train card back in her wallet as they walked down yet another set of stairs.

Shisui frowned, scuffing his feet on the ground as they stopped to wait for the next train. He remembered he had an aunt. Sort of. She had long hair...and she was pale.. And she was at the doctor’s when- “Oh! The one who had akachan?” He’d only seen his baby cousin once, the one with really small hands and fingers and toes. “I forgot his name.”

“Itachi-chan, yes.” His mother had a faint smile on her face, the train blowing her hair even as it slowed in front of them. It was odd, because her eyes looked really sad. “He’s finally home, so I thought we should visit.”

“He wasn’t home? Where was he?”

“Shisui, he was sick, remember?” She smoothed a hand through his hair, keeping it on the back of his head as they entered the train cart and sat down.

“So he’s all better now?” A hand on his knee kept him from kicking his feet, as did a short and sharp look from his mother.

“No. He’s still sick. But Oba-san was a nurse, so she knows how to care for him.”

Shisui couldn’t recall ever visiting his oba-san and oji-san. Their house was a long walk away from the train station, and was an actual house! No apartment complex, it was a separate building from those around it, with its own garden in the back. The whole neighborhood was in private awe with Shisui as he stood staring. His mother was less impressed, shooing him up the walkway to the front door.

The lady who answered the door was a lot warmer than the last time he saw her. Her hair was no longer dull, her skin not sick and wet - there were a lot of lines around her eyes though, and there was something off about her wide smile that Shisui couldn’t quite put his finger on.

They were quickly ushered into the living room - Sakiko making sure to turn Shisui’s shoes at the entry, scolding him quietly as Mikoto, ever the perfect host, immediately brought out a tray of snacks and turned the electric kettle on. There were some snacks Shisui didn’t recognize, and he couldn’t read the kanji on them either. Mikoto noticed him hesistating and handed him one.

“Ringo Otome. They’re famous in Nagano. Fugaku just went on a business trip there. They go beautifully with green tea.”

It took nearly half an hour for Shisui to remember why they were there. He had eaten several of the ringo things, some ice cream mochi, and had started on his second cup of tea. His mother and aunt had been chatting back and forth. Most of the conversation bored Shisui - talk of his uncle, work, medication, uncle’s smoking habits. The last bit seemed to upset his aunt, her pleasant smile vanishing from her face.

“He tries to hide it, but comes home reeking of smoke, Saki.” Mikoto sat her tea cup down, reaching for one of the neatly folded cloth napkins she had placed out for them. Shisui watched as she refolded it, pressing each crease carefully. “It’s bad enough he’s smoking again, but lying to me?”

Shisui peeked up at her from behind his own cup. She was dabbing at the corners of her eyes. They looked full and unhappy, but she laughed and brushed it all away when Sakiko tried to comfort her.

“It’s just a lying husband. It’s not all that bad.”

Shisui scrunched up his eyebrows. He was always told not to lie, and got in big trouble when he did. Especially when he lied to kaa-san. If it hurt Mikoto oba-san so much, why wasn’t she upset? Or was she upset?

He nibbled on another otome. He didn’t really understand his oba-san, but he liked her well enough. And he decidedly did not like his oji-san already.

“...I know it’s hard on him, Saki, but I’m the one taking care of him. I give him his medication. I see what happened - what is happening - to our little boy. And yet he’s the one who’s sneaking around.” Mikoto’s voice got small again, and she looked exhausted, as if mentioning her son brought all the pain she hid to the surface.

Wait, her son...?

“Ita-chan is home, right?” Shisui forgot instantly why he was brought up, excitement bubbling up and causing him to grin wide. “Where is he?” Even knowing he wasn’t in the room couldn’t stop him from whipping his head back and forth, hoping to catch a glimpse of his little cousin.

Mikoto frowned ever so slightly. “He’s in his room resting at-”

“Where’s his room?” Shisui was up in a heartbeat, ready to make a beeline for his cousin. Sweets and tea were nice, but his legs were itchy, and his thoughts got too loud and fast when he had to sit still for so long. Maybe they could play tag? Or build something? Maybe he had video games?

His thoughts were cut short by his aunt’s stern but gentle voice. “Shisui, Itachi is ill. He can’t play like normal boys. He needs to sleep.”

Shisui whined and pouted at that, much to his mother’s embarrassment and horror, but eventually was scolded into sitting quietly as the two women went back to chatting away. He eyed the two warily, plotting his escape.

It turned out his plotting was unnecessary - though he was sad to scrap the great Bathroom plan (pretend he had to pee and wander the house until he found his cousin). His aunt had recently started a tiered herb garden - “I can’t leave Itachi alone,” she explained, a slight pained expression on her face, “and a normal babysitter just can’t handle him” - and insisted on showing Sakiko. To his delight, Shisui was told to stay inside at the kotatsu. He put on his most innocent face, big eyes and smile, and promised not to move an inch.

Mikoto gushed at how cute Saki’s boy was. Sakiko looked unconvinced, but followed her imouto outside anyway.

He jumped up as soon as the backdoor shut behind them. They had passed some stairs on their way in, and he bolted up them now. He tried a few doors in his search, finding a bathroom, a large bedroom, a drab room with a desk and far too many cabinets, until at last he found the right one.

Itachi’s room was larger than his own, but the space didn’t make it as inviting as it should. The whole room seemed cold. There were no pictures on the wall, no toys scattered about. Shisui suddenly remembered where he first met his aunt, in a cold room that smelled so clean it burned his nose. Everything about this room made him want to leave.

Until a big pair of tired eyes caught his own.

Tiny, pale fists wiped at those big eyes, the small boy yawning as he sat up in his bed. He peeked at Shisui curiously, but didn’t make to get up or greet him.

Shisui didn’t know why he expected Itachi to be his age - he puffed out a cheek, upset at himself. Of course his cousin was younger. Of course he was smaller.

Was he supposed to be that small though?

Now, Shisui wasn’t great at a lot of things. He hated numbers, refused to type at computers, and had nearly sprained his ankle the last time he “played” baseball. But he knew he was great at talking to people. He made friends easily, and people loved being around him.

He was told Itachi wasn’t like normal boys, but Shisui wouldn’t let that stop him. He grinned wide at the boy as he plopped right next to him on the bed, earning an even bigger eyed stare than before.

“Hi. i’m Shisui. We’re cousins, but I don’t have any brothers, so call me Shisui-nii, okay?”

The boy blinked his doe eyes at Shisui in response. Shisui looked around the room again, his smile unwavering. “You don’t have any video games, do you?” Blink. “Well, what do you do for fun?” Blink.

Shisui huffed and threw his hands back at the bed, leaning on them. He frowned up at the ceiling for a minute before looking back over at his cousin. “You have toys, don’t you?”

Itachi cocked his head to one side, staring at Shisui for another minute. He didn’t look sad, or happy, or angry, or even tired anymore. Shisui scrunched up his nose, studying his little cousin as Itachi did the same with him. Eventually, ever so slowly, the younger boy crawled out from underneath his covers and placed his bare feet on the floor, heading for his closet. Shisui noted his night clothes had little black birds on them, and found it utterly adorable.

Itachi came out of the closet with his arms full. He gingerly placed his findings on the bed, then sat himself in-between Shisui and the stack of books.

He nearly groaned as Itachi carefully looked at each book. “Those aren’t toys. Those are booooorrring.”

Itachi seemed to ignore his whining, carefully picking up his books and studying the covers until he found the right one. With his decision made, he handed it to Shisui and looked up at him, big, quiet eyes and long lashes and too-pale skin.

Shisui looked down at his cousin. He had bandaids on his upper arms, pink with kittens on them. His wrists were so small he looked fragile. “What do you want me to do with this?” He finally looked at the book in his lap, and remembered seeing it somewhere before - it was about a turtle and a cat. One for little kids, too.

“Read to me?”

Shisui blinked down at his little cousin. His voice was small, but he didn’t sound nervous. Just quiet. He nodded slowly, though he wasn’t nearly as reluctant as he made himself out to be. “But just one, I’m too big to read this stuff.”

Itachi’s smile wasn’t big like Shisui’s. It was quiet, just like his voice and eyes. But Shisui found it fit his Itachi perfectly, and grinned right back at him before launching into the story.

By the time Sakuko and Mikoto discovered them, Shisui had read through the stack and started over, Itachi curled up tight against his chest with his eyes barely open. He was scolded the whole way home for not listening, but he found, for once, he couldn’t feel sorry for what he did - even if he was grounded and told several times how serious Itachi’s “condition” was.

He curled up in bed that night and slept peacefully. For once, he didn’t dream about moving or his father’s raised voice, but of ways to make Itachi smile.

#shiita #shisui #itachi #fanfiction #mywriting

7 notes · View notes

sunnysynthsunshine · 6 years ago

Text

Sick (Multiple Characters x reader)

(Kevin Turvey)

you arrived at the BBC studios, to start production work, but something was off, the weather was quite cold and you didn't have a scarf

you carried on working but between your camera work loud sneezes were overheard "Sorry, take two" you'd say, then you sneezed again and again"

the producer said, "Y/N I don't believe you're well enough to work today"

"What are you talking about?" you shouted to let out a loud sneeze, your head drowsy as your throat felt dry

the producer said, "that's exactly what I meant"

you stood up rubbing your nose, while the other cast members looked before going back to what they were doing

you walked back to the staff room, to relax until the planned episode had been filmed and aired

it was the afternoon, you were sitting in the staff room, stuffing your face with sandwiches, ignoring the snot running down your face and your groans feeling like you were a disgrace when you heard the door creak,you saw a familiar face walk in,he was one of the cast members,he had a patterned black and white shirt over a blue and red anorak,he took it off as he sat next to you on the sofa

"Hey,Y/N how are you?" he said in his high pitched Redditch dialect

"I'm miserable and sick" you responded bluntly

" I hear lemons are good when your sick" he said

he walked over to the counter and prepared some tea, as well as a small lemon cake, he placed the lemon cake on a plate and brought it over to the coffee table,

"a Lemon a day keeps Kevin Turvey away," he said, while he snorted a giggle and wiped your nose with a tissue

you chuckled "shut up!" before regaining your composure "Thank you" you then sipped the tea and ate the cake while Going Underground by The Jam played on the radio nearby,

you moved the saucer of leftover lemon cake aside "How about you try some lemons?"

Kevin grinned "Well I've never investigated that before" he then took a big bite into a slice of lemon that was falling out of one of the cakes, he stuck his tongue in disgust screaming, you smirked at him "I thought that made you less sick" Kevin tried spitting it out as he ran out the staff room cringing "Yeah, well now I'm the one sick thanks for that" you erupted into laughter

he laughed back, he then did a trick with his ear (flipping his ear over only for it to pop back into place), "If I'm that good at healing people I could be a doctor" you scoffed "I don't think I'd trust you with time travel" he scoffed back "Why?, there would be lots of cool things, places and people to investigate"

(Rest home Ricky) (WARNING: References to mental health)

it was one of those times, ever since you got admitted into Denton, you'd occasionally get to leave but other times you were stuck there, under observation while sat in your room looking at your laptop,your laptop was more productive at times than you were,they were limitless, while you had limitations,you would overindulge,you would question your empathy and sympathy for people,you would overthink intensely resulting in some compulsive behaviour and stomach pain,that's why you were sometimes in Dentonvale

it was where you were safe, unlike the unhelpful counsellers of the past you had been to, the people of Dentonvale did care for their patients, after the whole Farley Flavours drama, Nation and Cosmo just stole the money to improve their business

you sat, listening to music, you liked the melodies and lyrics, but the overthinking still lurked, you tried to dream to escape it but instead you encountered intrusive thoughts, flashbacks and you were arguing with yourself, this gave you a headache and pains in your stomach, you undid your headphones and picked aggressively at your ear and lips,you felt sweaty, confused and it didn't stop by the time someone had visited your room, half of your right ear was bleeding and your lips were dryer than your throat.

you kept mumbling "make it stop, it's just telling me lies, but because the lies are sometimes true it makes it hard to tell if it's true or not, I'm a horrible person, why can't I naturally feel emotion sometimes,why do I do this to myself,why is my mind never satisified,I've moved on from my past why does my mind always play the worst parts of my memory film reel,I'm nothing,I say I will stop overthinking but I don't do I? do I?"

"Y/N"

you blinked you didn't know one of the staff would overhear the rambling

"Oh! sorry I," you paused staring as your body lightly shook

Rest home Ricky walked over "What's wrong Y/N"

you quietly mumbled "I feel like I'm living a lie, I should be grateful about the life I have and I try to be honest, but each time I think I'm improving I have an episode or a moment of intrusive voices putting words into my mouth,I have low empathy sometimes that must mean I'm an emotionless mess with no morals right?,I've moved on from the past, but the film reels of then keep playing at the worst times, I'm such a rude, ungrateful person,"

he tried to help settle you, he lightly rested his hands on your shoulders while he reassured you

"your not living a lie, your brain is just mean to you sometimes, everyone has their weak moments,your intrusive thoughts don't define you, even if you can't physically show feelings,you still show them emotionally and your emotions are still valid, as long as you know your morals and that they don't harm you or others, that's fine"'

you sniffled "but...the memories,I know it's not relevant but they keep reappearing"

he rubbed calming circles on your back "it's ok I'm here, all of that is in the past now, don't let the paranoid voices get to you, your a smart, considerate, determined person"

he paused "Now how do you feel?"

you looked up "a bit stressed, but I can get through it, you've helped calm me down a bit I still have a bit of a pain in my stomach and head though

he observed "I see, I also see your ear is bleeding a bit, that might've resulted from your compulsive behaviour hang on I'll be right back" he walked off and came back with a small bowl of water, some tissues, ointment creams and some medicine

he dipped the tissue into the water and moved it around the areas of the ear that were bleeding, he used the other tissues to dry your eyes and nose, he rubbed some lip balm over your lips and dissolved some tablets into an easy to consume soft drink concoction,you picked up the drink and sipped it slowly, later he brought in some pasta "Just eat what you can" he said as he waved before leaving the room, you scooped up the pasta pieces with your spoon and ate most of them up before you dozed off to sleep.

(Rick,The Young Ones)

one of those weekends, where you'd order take away, either the order was wrong, or that you've had food poisoning

it was the day after you were a wreck, taking up space on the sofa like a tired cat, you could feel the sweat through your dressing gown,you had eaten a few things,but still felt horrifically sick, slumped on your pillow

Vyvyan had went out,Mike was being Mike and Neil was busy gardening,Rick ran downstairs only to see what you were up to

he looked up at you "How do you feel Y/N?"

you groaned "not good,I think I've been poisoned" you felt like you were going to vomit again

he gasped melodramatically "POISONED!, by what? Edwina Currie's eggs, Jamie Oliver's salads...Neil's lentils?"

you shook your head "Nah none of that, I ordered take away but they might've overcooked it and I ate too much of it, ugh"

he sat down next to you "Have you seen a doctor about this?"

you bulged your eyes out "I haven't been to a GP in ages what are you on about?"

he wasn't happy he slapped his hands together "Alright, that's it your going to a doctor"

you tried to make an excuse "no need Rick, no need I'm fine it's not that bad"

bubbling noises could be heard from your stomach

he got his coat and hat and fidgeted about for his keys "I don't want to hear it, you are seeing a doctor"

you coldly joked "that's Vyvyan's car, how do I know if you can even drive?"

he ran inside Vyvyan's car, and turned on the engine, and smirked "the things extracurricular sociology can teach you"

he drove Vyvyan's car to the closest walk-in clinic there was,medicine was prescribed and then they were back home

you watched some tv, you browsed social media, but you forgot to take the medicine, luckily later on Rick reminded you

and while you were there on the sofa covered in a blanket, feeling like your mouth was a rubbish bin, he was there to cuddle you, until you eventually got better, the next day he didn't bother Vyvyan he was too busy making sure you were alright,you kinda liked the attention and he kinda liked that someone was taking his advice for once and Vyvyan liked that Rick was more quiet than usual.

(Richie Rich)

it was mid Spring,a stomach bug had been going round,Catflap caught it,Richie caught it....now you caught it

you were a production person who had met up richie and catflap in the 2000s,you became showbiz pals instantly

you hated getting sick, you clutched onto your stomach as you leaned back your pillow wasn't comfy and you felt slouched

Catflap decided to change the pillow for you,as Richie Rich had walked back in looking at you to see if you were getting any better

the local GP was full up,so when he came back he was in an unhappy mood "stupid Doctors,oh well we can treat you here,I've never played that role before" he smirked before prancing off to his room and arriving back in a nurse costume

"I'm in hell" you joked as you leaned back into your position on the sofa, Richie frolicked about "so I diagnose you with....a stomach infection" as he messed about with a clipboard and pen, Catflap scoffed "it's a virus, Richie common colds don't make you vomit excessively"

Richie was disgusted slightly "Uhh, well that must not feel nice at all, my treatment shall be a cup of tea"

Catflap laughed, "a cup of tea?, would you prescribe someone with the bubonic plague a cup of tea?"

Richie grinned "YES, I would, have you watched casualty before?"

Catflap cringed as Richie prepared a cup of tea he messed up with the first cup so let catflap drink that, while he handed the second good cup to you"

he can gave you medicine as he overdramatically posed next to you, still in costume, looking at you with a random bag of first aid equipment he had in the basement

it felt nice,you kinda liked how he was doting on you even if it was a bit over the top, with Catflap being the assistant

when he posed in an animated way when giving your temperature,Filthy Ralph arrived "What are you queens up to,reenacting some Japanese cartoon" Edward Catflap paused, pulled up his suspenders a bit "Now,Ralph that's a bit offensive of you,the japanese make great television"

#the young ones #Filthy rich and catflap #shock treatment #kevin turvey #fanfic #x reader #fluff #rest home ricky #rick pratt #richie rich #edward catflap #short story

5 notes · View notes

scaredofrobots · 7 years ago

Text

The Best Mans Speech

For anon. Letters to Evans Universe. As always @elanev91 checkin my commas before I wreck myself on ffn

Sirius Black fucking LOVED weddings.

Especially when his best mate was marrying his other best mate.

Sirius knew as soon as James exclaimed �� “A. GIRL! EVANS IS A GIRL?!?!” James Potter would marry Lily Evans.

It took for fucking ever though.

Sirius sat through months of angst before they even got together.

He helped Lily plot the most ridiculous surprise where she could snog James’ brains out.

He sat through harrowing days of “choosing the perfect ring Padfoot”.

He sat through every single bad proposal speech James prepared and played the role of Lily 15 times “for practice, Padfoot”.

He made it through setting every single rose petal on the path to the room where James would propose.

He contained himself from yelling “FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST ASK HER” as he crouched beside Remus in the closet during the proposal.

Through every single color scheme discussion.

Through every single catering argument.

Through awful cake tastings and through every single fucking dress Evans tried on (127 to be exact and Evans looked totally perfect in every single one).

And when fucking finally James Potter had asked him to be best man he felt like all his trials and tribulations had been worth it.

Because he, one Sirius Black, would get to make the best man's speech.

When they were seven, Lily and Sirius hosted a variety of complicated weddings after being the ring bear (Sirius misheard and everyone went with it) and flower girl for Lily’s cousin. They played a variety of roles but Sirius’ favorite was always the best man.

At Lily’s cousin’s wedding, the Best Man's Speech was the absolute best part of the entire wedding. Sirius remembered the whole day rather fondly. The ceremony was short- which was convenient because the bear suit was bloody hot and he had to stand still and quiet the entire time while Evans ignored him trying to make funny faces at her.

Then they had what felt like hours worth of photographs. Evans had to remind him several times, “They’re muggles the pictures won’t move- so stand still you baboon”

“I am a bear,” he argued- every time.

When the torture of the pictures was over- they moved to the reception. Sirius was relieved when he was able to take off the bear costume and eat some food. He and Evans danced and played with the other children. Until the speeches.

They heard the sound of a fork hitting a champagne glass and the speeches began. The maid of honor gave some weepy speech that made the bride cry, but then the best man took the stage.

It was hilarious. He told jokes, he told stories, and he made the entire reception hall laugh until they cried. Sirius had never seen something so beautiful.

Therefore, whenever he and Evans reenacted a wedding, he always got to do the Best Man's Speech. He had done many speeches for their fake weddings, but he knew this one- the real one- had to be absofuckinglutley perfect.

Evans, however, seemed worried.

She first broached the subject at her second dress fitting with a badly disguised, “So Sirius, how is the speech coming,” as the seamstress left the room

He shrugged it off and said, “Haven’t started.”

Lily narrowed her eyes at this, “Bullshit. You’ve been dreaming about this since you were the ring bear”

“You’re not really going to let the Weasley twins be ring bears are you?” Sirius scoffed

“Yes and they will be cuter than you were,” she huffed, turning to look at the back of her dress, “but stop deflecting. You cannot make your best mans speech about how we met!”

“What,” Sirius asked affronted

“You’ve got to find a new hiding place, Sirius. It’s been the same since we were 5,” Lily responded and then added, “does this hit my hips ok?”

“Prongs will wet himself. I’m almost attracted to you and well-“ he gestured vaguely, “But why were you going through my things?”

Lily rolled her eyes, “because I know you. I read...draft 13? I believe? Our origin story? Really that’s how you remember our meeting?”

“Yes those two vindictive little hooligans were attacking me…” Sirius started, but was interrupted

“The Ashley and Rebekah Incident is not our origin story,” Lily demanded

Putting a hand to his chest and inhaling deeply Sirius said, “You wound me. I know our origin story.”

Lily shook her head, “I’m sure you do, but The Ashley Rebekah Incident is not it”

“It isn’t,” Sirius demanded

“No! Now I’m going to get out of this dress and we’ll finish this argument over firewhiskey at my flat like normal and I’ll owl James to pick up curry,” Lily said and gestured for Sirius to hold up the train as she walked back to the dressing room

“Fine,” he whined, “But can we do gin and dubbonet instead?”

Dress returned to the seamstress for alterations, gin and dubbonet picked up, they made their way to Lily and James’ flat.

After arguing about the proper proportions for the cocktail, “But Queen Elizabeth doesn’t do it that way Lily!”

“Queen Elizabeth is a weak punk, Sirius. 50/50 is more delicious,” Lily retorted.

After winning the cocktail argument, Lily had to allow Sirius first storytelling rights on how they met.

“You’re going to be wrong,” she argued, “the Ashley Rebekah incident started after we were in school. We met before then!”

“I am not speaking about the time those harlots told us we were being too loud Lily! Although, that is how we discovered you were a witch. I still can’t believe your accidental silencing charm lasted a week,” Sirius responded

“Yeah well fucking call me loud see what happens,” Lily huffed and then took a sip of her cocktail

“Remember when they told you were being dramatic at that neighborhood Christmas party when we were 15,” he goaded her on

“YES! I fucking do! But they were being monsters and spoiling Star Wars. What kind of-”

“Evans. Focus. We hate Ashley and Rebekah. We know this. But I have to tell you our origin story,” Sirius explained

“I know our fucking origin story Sirius, we met on the playground and you were hiding behind the trees because you pissed your trousers and I carried a bush in front of you the whole way home so Ashley and Rebekah wouldn’t see you and make fun of you.”

“ALAS,” Sirius proclaimed in his lawyer voice, “THAT IS THE VERY BEGINNING OF THIS TALE, but that tragic event only spiraled into THE GREATEST FRIENDSHIP OF ALL TIME”

At this point, the front door opened and James Potter entered with several bags of take away curry.

James took one look at Sirius’ position and said, “Oh God, what is happening?”

“We are discussing the origin of my friendship with the soon to be Mrs. Potter,” Sirius gestured enthusiastically

“You mean when you pissed yourself and Lily protected you from some mean girls?” James asked

“NO!” Sirius exploded, “That twas only the beginning! I will continue once you’re settled Prongs”

Lily and James exchanged a look. James sighed, went to the kitchen to set down the curry and poured himself a drink. Once he settled next to Lily -Sirius began to pontificate.

“ONE DAY….Not too terribly long ago, one sad little Sirius Black ventured with his uncle to the local playground in order for him to try and make some friends,” he started and set the scene, “It was a sunny day. Full of promise and hope.”

Lily rolled her eyes so dramatically here Sirius stopped short, “Evans. Knock that shit off.”

Lily gestured for him to continue and he did gleefully.

“Well poor little Sirius Black was chubby and had trouble with his speech, so making friends was no easy task. His uncle encouraged him to approach two little girls who were playing on the swings. Sirius did that and was miraculously allowed into their game. He was so excited when they asked him to play hide and go seek he forgot that he was, in fact potty trained,” here Sirius had to stop talking because James Potter was giggling so hard tears were falling down his face

“DAMMIT PRONGS THIS IS TRAUMATIC AND YOU NEED TO STOP LAUGHING AT MY PAIN,” Sirius yelled

“Sorry, mate, I’ll get it together,” James swore solemnly.

“Good. Now- little Sirius was hiding behind the bushes when the accident happened. When he was almost discovered by the two girls his pride would not allow him to be seen with wet trousers so he called for help. A fiery redhead happened to be climbing in the tree near the bush and she descended and took pity on him. She waltzed over to his uncle and told him what happened and then protected him from humiliation by carrying the very bush he hid in to his house. But that is not how our friendship truly began,” he started to continue but was interrupted.

“YES IT IS” Lily bellowed, “That is how we met.”

“Tis true, fair Lily,” Sirius started, “but when we arrived at my house you called me a baby and told me ‘I can’t be friends with fat babies that pee their pants’”

“Holy shit I did,” Lily amended

“Yes. And I vowed I would never be friends with such a meanie,” Sirius continued, “but then we forged our friendship as many friendships are formed over a common enemy”

“Oh my god,” Lily started

“Yes-” Sirius told her

“THE FRUITCAKE INCIDENT!” they announced in unison.

“I hate when you do that,” James interjected

“I forgot about the Fruitcake Incident,” Lily said

“I, too- blocked it for a long time. It was one of the worst days of my life,” Sirius began

“Ugh- mine too. What a tragic day that was,” Lily told him and reached for his hand

“How the fuck are the two most dramatic people in the world the two most important people in my life?” James asked

The glares thrown his way shut him up, “Sorry, not dramatic...unlucky people who have survived much tragedy.”

“Damn right,” Sirius stated

“So the fruitcake incident?” James prompted, praying this would be over quickly

“Right well, young Sirius Black was dragged to the neighborhood Christmas party and forced into socialization with children his age. He was very nervous and worried that-”

“OH FOR FUCKS SAKE-” Lily interrupted, “We’ve already sat through one of these. We both got dragged to this terrible Christmas party and were dared by Ashley and Rebekah to steal, and then eat, an entire fruitcake each. Of course neither one of us can say no to a dare, so we did.”

Sirius continued, “Naturally it became a contest to see who could eat it the fastest. Lily and I tied. But Ashley and Rebekah didn’t eat a fucking bite.”

“Meanwhile, we started to get sick feeling because fruitcake is disgusting and we’d already eaten a ton of sweets before dinner,” Lily continued

“So we did what any normal child would do,” Sirius added

And then in unison, “We vomited all over Ashley and Rebekah’s new Christmas jumpers.”

“And then we were grounded for the rest of the holidays.” Sirius finished cheerfully

“How did that make you mates?” James asked bewildered

Scoffing, Lily answered, “Well obviously we were set up by them to vomit on them and then get grounded. So we made it our mission to take them down. And discovered we were actually well suited for each other. I apologized for calling him a baby and the rest is history”

“Anyway, Evans, that's the story going in my best man’s speech,” Sirius announced

“NO!” Lily demanded, “No bodily functions at my wedding. We don’t need the ring bears getting any ideas.”

“Remind me again why we aren’t having ring bearers- is the ring bear a muggle custom or-” James asked for the hundredth time

“No- but it is important to me,” Lily argued back again, “Sirius- I am vetoing draft 13. Try again”

Sirius started to argue but James told him, “I too veto this draft 13, I don’t think I can sit through either of those stories again.”

Over the next few months, Lily discovered and vetoed 8 more drafts of Sirius’ best man’s speech.

The argument for draft 17 was “You cannot in detail describe what sexual position you walked in on me and James trying out a year ago”

Draft 19 was “Sirius. This isn’t about you and Remus. I mean your first kiss is really sweet but what has that got to do with our marriage.”

Draft 20 “THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO ADMIT YOU ARE AN ILLEGAL ANIMAGUS PUBLICALLY SIRIUS”

Draft 21 “Sirius. So help me God. We swore to NEVER tell anyone about the time we went to jail.”

Draft 22 James had vetoed on the grounds that they had sworn to never reveal the secret to taming the giant squid.

Draft 23 Sirius had hidden in a new place and had announced the speech, “FINISHED AND FABULOUS,” two days before the wedding.

When the morning of their wedding dawned, Lily wasn’t worried about anything besides the best man’s speech. She drank a calming drought to calm her nerves and forced herself to forget about it through the ceremony.

Today was about marrying James Potter. And if Sirius Black fucked up the entire day with his speech, she could murder him after their honeymoon. That was the mantra she repeated to herself over and over.

Lily had never felt so loved and full of hope as she did when she walked down the aisle to meet her future husband. The ring bears did their job perfectly and somehow she and James made it through the entire ceremony without crying.

She shed her first tears when James asked her “Alright, Potter,” when they snuck into an alcove to finish what they started with “you may kiss the bride.”

After they had eaten, cut the cake, and had the first dance as a couple- it was time for the best man’s speech.

Lily broke out into a cold sweat.

Sirius walked up to the front of the reception hall and took the microphone and began,

“This is my 23rd draft of this speech. Anyone who knows me knows that I can tend to go a little overboard,” Sirius paused for the laughter, “Which is why having James and Lily Potter in my life is so important. These two ground me. Sure, Lily and I can go to extremes, but James will always pull us back.”

Lily thought the room had suddenly gotten quite dusty.

“Until I moved in with my uncle, my childhood was not a happy one. Through a series of incidents, I met a beautiful little-redheaded girl named Evans. She brought joy and acceptance to my childhood. We did everything together and she was the first person to show me that family is something that you can choose and make yourself,” here Sirius swallowed some emotion but continued,

“Then Lily and I were forced to go to different schools to ‘try and save our teacher’s minds’. I was terrified. She was my one true friend. And then I met James Potter. Who- without prompting, accepted me and loved me fiercely and loyally. I remember when I got my first Letter from Evans at school- James seemed a little bewildered that I had another fierce and loyal friend. I had no idea that he thought she was a boy until 6th year Christmas holidays when they met.”

Again he waited for the laughter to die down.

“It took these two prats nearly two years to realize they were perfect for each other and I nearly lost my damn mind. But they were perfect for each other. They are- really. They balance each other out and care for so many. They’re my family. I look forward to seeing them grow as the Potters and I wish them a long marriage filled with love, many godchildren for me, and lots of laughter. To James and Lily Potter,” he finished and raised his glass

“To James and Lily Potter,” the crowd responded and burst into applause.

When Sirius approached James and Lily, he was tackled by Lily into a hug, “Best Best Man’s Speech Ever” she told him.

“Did you expect anything less?” He asked and kissed her on the forehead

#look at all those commas #robots writes #Letters to Evans Verse

57 notes · View notes

auroraphilealis · 7 years ago

Text

Steal My Heart (steal my whole life too) Chapter Nineteen

Steal My Heart (steal my whole life too) 19/27

Genre: Chaptered, fantasy AU, Prince!Phil, Thief!Dan, romance, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff, slow burn (like serious slow burn)

Warnings: some violence, mentions of death (no main characters), dark magic, descriptions of wounds/blood, some hints of sexual scenes (but no actual smut), murder, dangerous situations, stealing/thievery

Summary: Captain of the Royal Guard and Prince of Morellia, Philip Lester has never been given the chance to find love. Instead, he’s run from a system that works to end class differences and improve equality for its citizens. Happy as he is to make the world a better place, Phil can’t help feeling bitter towards his ancestors for making it impossible for him to find someone who will actually love him for more than just his title, and strives instead for a life of justice and doing good - only to meet his match in the King of Thieves, a man who will change everything he once thought he knew in life. Together, they must depart on a quest to save the kingdom, and, in the process, destroy their differences and find their own form of love.

Word count: 240,000+

Updates: Sunday

Thanks so much to @botanistlester for betaing this giant monster, as she’s been super helpful and encouraging with her little comments and endless excitement. We couldn’t have done it without you <3

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil

For reference, @snowbunnylester is Phil, @ineverhadmyinternetphase is Dan

(AO3 link) (Masterlist) (Previous)

Chapter 19

The mountain terrain was proving more and more unpleasant to traverse the longer the men moved along the winding pass upwards, with sharp rocks that could cut through the sole of their shoes if they weren’t careful, and a steep incline that was only getting steeper as they continued upward. Dan prided himself on his fitness, having been forced to lead a life spent mostly on the run for the majority of his years, but even he was puffing and panting after a hard day’s walk through the pass.

They’d had lunch pretty late, and it hadn’t settled well in their stomachs. Dan and the Duke had spent far too much time glaring at each other to focus much on their meals, but Phil had gotten sick of it soon enough. While the Duke tried to flirt, and lord his accomplishments that day looking for more praise from the Prince, Dan merely kept his mouth shut apart from snippy comments until Phil quite literally dragged him into his side to rest while they ate.

It had been warm and soothing enough to remind Dan of last night. At least, for as long as it had lasted.

Not long after, Phil had begun packing away their supplies once again, and forced them to continue on their hike.

For once, he was being the sensible one, and Dan hadn’t even been able to complain.

With the village long gone behind them, however, and the next quite a ways off still indeed, with the sun growing lower and lower in the sky, until, eventually, it was nothing more than a bright mark against the horizon, casting the world into dusk, Dan called the three of them to a halt.

"It's not safe to linger here in the dark," Dan explained, "There are thieves and bandits about." He couldn't help but give Phil's fingers a little squeeze in his, sending him a small, knowing smirk. This thief had yet to be discovered, at least.

The Duke seemed more than happy to stop, even more red-faced and exhausted than he’d looked when they’d first started out that afternoon. He dropped his pack instantly, and turned straight back to Phil, eyes glinting in the low light of the sun. "Allow me to set up camp, my Prince! For it has been a long and exhausting day, and you must be in want of your rest."

Dan held back the flare of anger that ran through him at the way the Duke was eyeing his Prince, and instead leaned naturally against Phil, winding one soft arm about his waist. He smirked a little at the Duke. "Well, you won't want to be setting up camp here."

Dan could actually physically see the Duke seething. He kept ignoring Dan, however, instead only giving Phil his attention. "Where would you have me set up, my Prince?"

Dan glared, because that was his name for Phil, but Phil instead turned to Dan with a wicked glint in his eye that Dan was really rather proud of. "Where do you suggest, my love?"

It amused Phil highly to screw with the Duke. He had enjoyed their day so far with how he and Dan had been able to tease and prod the Duke mercilessly, knowing the man could not react too negatively if he wanted to curry favor with Phil, and it was merely the icing on the cake when the Duke once more attempted to ignore Dan completely by addressing Phil instead, and Phil turned to Dan to return the question to his thief instead.

Dan's grin was spectacular. With Phil backing him up, the Duke could do very little but glare as Dan led the three of them along to a sheltered little hollow on the edge of the pass, covered by an overhanging rock, but open enough not to set off Phil's fear. Dan gripped his hand nonetheless.

It was a small cave he’d noticed when he’d first drawn the group to a halt, and he was proud of himself when the Duke started to mutter about how he would have found the area himself if Dan had only let him. Dan knew that was a load of bullshit, though, and just continued to smirk to himself as he gestured inside the small outcropping, going far enough and deep enough inside that they would be well sheltered from the elements, but also not quite deep enough for Phil to get too claustrophobic.

They’d be well hidden once inside, as well.

“We’ll be safe here,” Dan reassured Phil and the Duke, before releasing Phil’s hand and ushering him in. “Go get us settled, my Prince. I’ll get the campfire started,” he insisted, and then turned back around to offer the Duke another self satisfied grin before setting about doing as he’d said.

As Dan bent down, working on getting a flame started, a noise behind him had him spinning around, and then he was almost nose-to-nose with the Duke. Dan cast a quick glance around for Phil, but he was still busy with the packs out of earshot. Dan's eyes narrowed.

He could handle the Duke.

"You aren't going to succeed," the Duke hissed.

Dan simply arched a brow back at him. "No?"

"No, so you might as well just give up now." The Duke's eyes were glinting.

Dan slowly dropped into a crouch, though he really wanted to avoid a fight if he could - the mountain pass was narrow and the edge of the cliff incredibly steep. He met the Duke's eyes with a challenge. "You seem very sure of yourself, for a man who has never even had one kiss from my Prince."

The Duke's eyes flashed. "Soon, he will be mine. I have a way to be rid of you for good."

"I highly doubt you'll get so lucky," Dan answered silkily.

"You'll see," the Duke spat, standing once more and kicking some loose stones over Dan's prepared campfire, negating all the work he’d done so far. "Soon, you'll be out of my way for good, filthy commoner."

That word still hurt, no matter how much Dan wished it didn’t. He flinched before he could help it, and saw the Duke give a sly smile in response. No. Dan wasn’t going to show any weakness in front of him, refused to let the Duke have any modicum of control in this situation.

The Duke was dealing with a very dangerous man, and Dan wanted to let him know that. He was the King of Thieves, no damned rich highborn fool should be able to treat him like this.

So Dan rose to his feet and lashed out quick as a flash, grasping the Duke's arm before he could get any further away. He towered over the Duke, taking full advantage of his height, and lowered his voice to a dangerous hiss. "Be careful who you challenge, or you might not live to regret it."

The Duke paled in response. He looked over Dan quickly, and for the first time, a flash of fear was hidden deep within his eyes. Dan relished in that feeling, in knowing that finally the Duke was going to learn to show him respect, that this filthy commoner could and would fight back.

Besides, Dan had Phil on his side, and his faith in Phil was completely unshaken now. He knew his Prince would choose him, and it gave him strength to face down the Duke with all the confidence he could usually muster.

“You have no chance here,” Dan added flatly.

The Duke pulled away from him slowly, not looking away. He looked shaken, still a little pale, but that didn’t stop him from turning towards Phil as soon as he stepped away. Dan watched him leave, watched him settle as close as he could beside Phil, and although a flare of jealousy ran through him, Dan knew enough now to watch the subtle ways Phil rejected him. There was no leaning into the Duke’s space, no pulling him into a hug, like Phil would with Dan.

Dan finally felt secure enough to not be angry all the time. He finally felt more like himself again, like the King of Thieves, unshakable.

Dan turned back to building his campfire with a smile.

The cave Dan had found them for shelter was beyond perfect. It kept them hidden in a crevice of the mountain, but was open enough that it didn't trigger Phil's crushing sense of panic. Unfortunately for him, he was also stuck with the Duke far too close for comfort while Phil watched Dan build a campfire and start their dinner for them all. Phil would have been willing to help Dan if it weren't so out of custom that the Duke would question it as strange and Dan not being good enough for Phil.

However, one quick look at Dan showed a thief happier than Phil had seen in a few days, certainly around the Duke. Although the line of Dan’s shoulder was still tense, there was a smirk playing about his face, and for once Phil didn’t know what had put it there. He knew the Duke had had another word with him while he'd been setting up his and Dan's furs for the night. He could only hope that Dan had not taken the words to heart, as Phil would be unable to comfort him tonight with the Duke so close. Speaking of insecurities near another suitor would do no good for either of them; it would only make the Duke dig his claws in further, assuming he'd found weakness and could tear them apart.

Sighing, Phil tried to tune out the Duke speaking next to him, but it was hard when his voice was so loud and abrasive, the exact opposite of Dan's soothing tones. Even teasing, Phil preferred Dan's voice to this pretentious shit’s.

Dan glanced over at them every once in a while, but he was still smirking. He knew, now, that the Duke was not receiving Phil’s attentions. He could see it in the way Phil’s eyes glazed over as he spoke, the way he didn’t move any closer to the Duke than was necessary. It helped Dan, and he wondered how he hadn’t seen it before.

Phil was his. That much was obvious.

Dan turned back to the campfire, turning some of the deer meat he had roasting over the flames, when a noise outside the cave had him turning on the spot.

That had sounded like a footstep.

Suddenly on guard, Dan got silently to his feet, eyes narrowed. He stalked carefully to the very edge of the cave, Phil and the Duke sheltered behind him, and peered into the darkness of the encroaching night. The sun had set long ago, and only the weak moonlight lit up the mountainous land outside.

Something was disturbing the shadows, further up the mountain pass. Another footstep echoed down the rocks, silent to anyone who wasn’t listening. But Dan had spent too many years travelling alone to miss potential danger like this.

A slow patter of footsteps that Dan recognised all too well was moving steadily towards them, along with a bouncing light from higher up the path - a torch.

More precisely, a bandit's torch.

Dan cursed loudly. He grabbed a flaming stick from the fire and brandished it in front of him, moving quickly as he shouted orders to Phil over his shoulder. "Get back! Hide! Thief coming!"

Just as the Duke had reached out and placed an arm over Phil's shoulder, just as Phil had tensed and turned to glare at the Duke for the unwanted move and attention, Phil heard Dan curse, and he jumped up almost immediately at the terrifying words.

Jerking himself away from the Duke, Phil launched himself towards a dark, deeper and much smaller crevice in the far wall that would only fit one, one eye on the Duke in case he were to try something just then. The Duke was far too frightened, however, and it was obvious as he launched himself behind a large boulder near the back of the cave, just in time before Dan put out their flames.

Dan cursed the wasted meat that hadn't yet finished roasting, but the fire had to be put out. He hid their supplies as best he could, and then crouched at the entrance to their little shelter, hoping beyond hope that this thief wouldn't spot them, and if he did, Dan just had to pray that he wouldn't recognise Dan. He couldn’t risk having his identity revealed to the Duke, no matter how much Dan might relish the fear on his face if it should happen. But it would put too much at risk. Phil’s reputation above all else would be completely annihilated if he were associated with the King of Thieves in any way.

The three waited in a strained silence for a good few minutes, even the Duke knowing better than to spout a word. Dan couldn’t risk taking his eyes off of the area in front of him, so he couldn’t glance behind him to see if the Duke was taking advantage of Phil behind him, now, but the atmosphere was too tense to be afraid of that minor nuisance.

They had far more to worry about, and, as the bouncing torchlight came ever closer, Dan knew his fears were about to come to life.

They all held their breath, but no one moreso than the panicking Prince who couldn't even find it in himself to breathe. He knew, if the Duke were not here, Dan would find not trouble in protecting them both from a thief as King of Thieves, but they'd both agreed they would try and hide that knowledge from the man, and now, it seemed like those hopes were tumbling down. Surely, there was no way they were going to get out of this without the Duke finding out just who Dan was.

As the seconds ticked by, it became more and more apparent that there was no use in hiding the way they were -- the thief Dan had spotted was heading straight for them, no hesitation in his movements whatsoever. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d never started a fire, this bandit would have found them. There was no doubt in Dan’s mind that he’d been watching them all day from the higher reaches of the pass, and had simply waited until sundown for the best chance to attack. Dan himself had done the same on many occasions. It was the perfect way to ambush travellers.

Now, though, Dan was desperate, crouching with one hand clasped to his torch, the other to his dagger. Worry for Phil was pounding through his veins.

After a few more tense seconds of waiting, the thief came rattling down the pass, far more nimble than any of Dan's group.

"Now, now, there's no use hiding!" the thief chirped, brandishing a torch and a wicked-looking curved blade. "I saw your fire, and I smell your meat. Come quietly, and we'll have no trouble."

Dan cursed inside his head.

He recognised the man.

This was one of Dan's closest comrades, a man named Brandon who had both seen Dan's face and knew his first name. They’d worked together often before, and while Brandon recognised Dan as his leader, there was no doubt he could reveal his identity at any minute.

Dan made himself as small as he could, thinking quickly.

Until Brandon took three steps closer to Phil's hiding place deep in the cave, still brandishing the sharp blade.

Phil watched with nothing short of worry in his heart as Dan was confronted by another bandit, heart pounding fast and hard in his chest when a wickedly curved knife appeared in his line of sight, far too close for Phil to be comfortable. He refused to so much as twitch, however, unwilling to give away his exact position, unwilling to put himself or Dan in harm's way should the bandit choose to throw his knife.

Phil could tell by the way the Duke cowered on the opposite side of the hollow, away from Phil, that the Duke had no intention of stepping in to help either of them. He would probably offer them both up on a silver platter, if it meant saving his hide.

Before Phil could do anything, think of anything, Dan was speaking up, full on confronting this bandit, and sending a fresh wave of fear crashing through Phil’s heart.

"Stop!" Dan called commandingly, voice booming from the shadows. "Or do you dare to take on me?"

The shock on Brandon's face was incredible. He jumped back like he'd been whipped, staring around the darkness of the cave, his torch brandished in front of him as he hunted for Dan. "I'll be damned, I know that voice! Show yourself!"

Dan battled with himself, knowing that the moment he stood up, there was no going back. He just prayed that Phil would have a way to shut the Duke up about this, or if not, he'd let Dan kill him.

Brandon was waving the dagger far too close to where Phil was hiding, so Dan swallowed his worry and rose to his feet, stepping into the torchlight with a hard glare, arms folded across his chest.

Brandon dropped his torch as his eyes lit up. "Well, curses to high heaven, it is you!"

"Indeed," Dan answered dryly, easily falling back into his old ways. "Now I'd be grateful if you stopped robbing my party."

"Of course, of course!" Brandon dropped his weapons, the torch clattering uselessly against the rock, and instead pulled Dan into a familiar hug, clapping him hard on the back. "Anything at all for my King of Thieves!"

Dan winced. He’d been hoping Brandon would at least go so far as to not say his title, but it seemed it was far too late for that now. There was no going back after this. Something would have to be done about the Duke.

Closing his eyes when the bandit revealed Dan's true title, Phil could do nothing but wilt. There went all their hopes, then. There was nothing to be done. The Duke could not continue on knowing that information. Phil had no qualms with killing if he needed to, and yet, even still, he closed his eyes and hated himself a little bit for this being such a necessity, even more so now than before. Before, perhaps they could have spared him. Now… never.

"Why are you travelling with two rich fools, though?" Brandon asked, peering at Dan closely. "I could spot you coming from hours away. Are they your hostages?"

"Not… exactly." Dan flicked one glance to the shadows, where Phil and the Duke were hiding. The Duke Dan couldn’t care less about, but Phil…

Dan was going to have a hard time explaining why he was travelling with a Prince of the Kingdom, never mind Captain of the Royal Guard on top of that.

But Brandon was an old and trusted comrade, one of Dan’s very best allies in his own world. In fact, he was one of the few Dan had trusted with his first name, and he’d always come to Dan’s aid when he’d needed it in the past. In return, Dan sent him what supplies he could from the capital, and always traded what he could.

If Dan could trust anyone from his own world, it would be Brandon.

Carefully, Dan turned back to Brandon with sharp eyes. "Swear to me you'll speak no word of this to anyone."

"As always, I obey my King." Brandon tipped his head, his eyes glimmering with interest.

Despite everything, that made Dan smile, glad to hear such words again.

He stepped back and threw a dramatic hand towards the shadows -- if this was happening, he might as well enjoy it, and Daniel Howell was nothing if not dramatic. "Alright then. Prepare yourself, Brandon, and please welcome Prince Philip, Captain of the Royal Guard."

Nothing could have prepared Phil for what happened next, however, as his own name was being called out almost proudly in the next few seconds. Stunned, terrified, but full of nothing more than absolute trust for his thief, Phil stepped out without a moment of hesitation, able to breathe a little bit easier now that Dan seemed to know the man who had been about to rob them.

The man seemed to hold a healthy respect for the King of Thieves, after all, and while Phil had yet to see the Duke’s reaction to the reveal of who Dan was, it was clear that he was now outnumbered. He wasn’t going to be pulling any tricks just yet.

When Phil stepped out, it became instantly clear that for as surprised as he’d been at Dan revealing him, the bandit was even more surprised. After all, while the bandit had known the King of Thieves was not alone, he surely wasn’t expecting his party to include the Prince himself, not to mention Captain of the Royal Guard.

Behind him, Phil heard the Duke began to shuffle out as well, looking too guarded by this turn of events to even be offended when Dan neglected to reveal him as well.

"Well. That was unexpected," the bandit stated in front of them, but his eyes weren't wide with surprise. Instead, a slow, sly smirk had began to curl his lips that made Phil feel marginally uncomfortable.

"As was your arrival," Phil retorted, taking another step towards Dan. He wasn't sure what he was meant to be to the King of Thieves, despite the proud way in which Dan had introduced him, and so Phil kept his distance to a degree, waiting on Dan's command and lead.

Dan watched with keen eyes as Brandon took in Phil's form, raking slow eyes down his body. Phil was looking quite uncomfortable, though, so Dan made sure to step in front of him just subtly enough to get his message across.

Brandon recognised the look, and although he flashed Dan a surprised glance, he backed down willingly enough. Brandon had always been one of Dan's closest allies, and he never questioned Dan's authority.

"Caught yourself a highborn, huh?" Brandon's grin was back to gleeful as he folded his arms, wicked blade still very much in sight. "Can't imagine why you've dragged him all the way out here, though. Unless you wanted to give me a bit of the fun?"

"Nothing like that is happening," Dan growled, once again moving protectively to Phil's side. The last thing he wanted was for Phil to get spooked, and Brandon cut an intimidating figure to anyone who didn't know him.

Phil didn't understand what was going on. The bandit was looking at Phil with a greedy look in his eyes, and Phil was starting to get the feeling it had nothing to do with the idea of what Phil, a Prince, might be carrying, and much more to do with what he might be packing.

Skin crawling at the very thought, Phil couldn't explain how relieved he was when Dan stepped in front of him protectively, arguing against the bandit when he claimed to desire a piece of Phil. In what capacity exactly, Phil was unsure, but it made him shiver and want to put some distance between himself and the bandit. Phil would gladly hide behind Dan for now if he had to, and he wouldn't even be embarrassed about it.

Surprise once again registered in Brandon's expression, and he looked between Dan and Phil with confusion. "What are you...?"

"He isn't for sharing. And he isn't my captive, either." Dan sighed when Brandon just looked more confused, so he waved him over. "Let me explain. Get our fire going again, seeing as you made me put it out."

"Only if you let me have some of your takings." Brandon's leering gaze ran off Phil - much to Dan's delight - and instead ran over to the Duke, who was standing on the sidelines staring in utter shock at Dan.

Dan grinned evilly in return. "What, my precious Duke?"

It wasn't until the bandit turned his attention on the Duke, however, that Phil felt another tingle of fear run down his spine. He didn't trust the Duke, no, but he also didn't want anything truly heinous to happen to him or Phil would never forgive himself. Dying at the end of Dan or Phil's blade, however, in order for Phil to protect those he loved… well, he'd have to live with that.

"You're the King of Thieves," the Duke hissed, piping up for the first time since this entire affair had started. "The Prince's Courter is the King of Thieves? The people will never stand for this!"

The words dropped through the air like stones to the bottom of the pool.

Dan broke the silence with a threat. "Which is why you aren't going to tell anyone, Duke."

Brandon's eyes were bulging out of his head. "Prince's Courter?! This story I have to hear, Dan, what the hell?!"

Dan looked from the Duke, back to Brandon, back to the Duke, and then turned to Phil with a heavy sigh.

"I think our cover's officially blown. I trust Brandon, he'll obey me to hell and back, but your good Duke might be more of a problem," Dan leered, eyes glittering wickedly and tone growing dangerous as he stalked the Duke short-distance. "Want me to take care of him?"

Eyes bulging as their love affair was outed and the bandit nearly pissed his pants, Phil moved quickly to step between Dan and the Duke.

"No one is taking care of anyone. The Duke will do as I say," Phil demanded, turning to send the man a sharp glare, "or risk everything he's come here to do."

Dan was a little disgruntled when Phil stopped him from simply getting rid of the Duke there and then, but he backed off willingly enough. Dan had enough trust now that Phil would know how best to deal with him, and Dan had his hands full with Brandon, after all. Brandon was looking greedily between Phil and the Duke, eyeing the expensive clothing and the heavy metal swords with interest. His gaze alighted on the gold and silver bracelet Phil was wearing, and the ring on his finger, and he raised his eyes at Dan.

Dan, despite himself, felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Yes, well," he said gruffly, "I said I would explain. Put that wicked knife away, Brandon, and go start the fire. I'll let you have some of our meat if you behave."

"If you tell me this story." Brandon's eyes were gleaming, but he at least looked to Phil with some respect now. He gave an oily bow. "If the Captain of the Royal Guard allows."

"Behave," Dan ordered lazily, and gripped Phil's hand very obviously in his own.

It appeared that, at least for the moment, the Duke was going to listen to Phil, because not long after Phil had gotten in between him and the Duke, the Duke was doing nothing more than backing closer to the wall next to the cave, rather than trying to inch past any of them. Phil's gaze was intense and hard as he watched him go, and his fingers played with the dagger at his waist in a vague enough threat that the Duke could not call him out for it.

"I'll deal with you later," Phil insisted. "Watch your tongue, or I may well have to cut it out for you, Duke Hemsworth," Phil hissed.

As Brandon moved out of the way to get the fire going again, using his still burning branch from earlier to help him with Dan’s wilted pile, Dan drew Phil slightly to the side. He kept one eye on the Duke, who’d done nothing but back himself into a corner stuck between Brandon, Dan, and the cave, and murmured so only Phil could hear, “Remember when you asked me to trust you? When the Duke first arrived?”

Dan's fingers curled protectively around Phil’s, causing Phil to turn to him with soft eyes, though he was still wary of the bandit Dan called Brandon. He would trust his thief, though, as his thief had trusted him, and while Brandon got the fire going once more, Phil allowed Dan to soothe him.

“Remember when you asked me to trust you?” Dan repeated, staring Phil straight in the eye. “And I promised you I would?”

Phil nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in worried confusion, but he didn’t open his mouth to argue, for which Dan was grateful.

“Good. Now I need you to do the same for me, Phil. I trust Brandon. Nothing will happen to us because of him.”

Phil’s mind was reeling with everything that had just happened, with the strange banter that Dan had held with this strange man who’d walked into their lives, and couldn’t help feeling like he’d well and truly officially walked into Dan’s world, now. Before, that had just been a taste. This… this is what Phil should suspect from here on out, if he wanted to travel with Dan.

But what Dan was saying… it was true. Phil would trust him the same way that Dan had trusted him, enough, at least, to wait until they were alone to question him before jumping to conclusions, just as Dan had done for him. Phil had a feeling that Brandon would not fill Phil’s head with lies the way the Duke had, either, and knew his job would be far easier.

“Okay,” he agreed, without hesitation, and though his mind was still spinning with everything that had changed in so fast an instant, he did not fight this. Instead, he merely allowed Dan to drag him in for a swift but perfect kiss, before drawing back away and leading Phil back over to where Brandon had settled with their fire.

The Duke still had yet to move, though he looked like he was itching to flee, and Dan walked past him with a smarmy smirk to head to where he’d left the pack with the deer meat, before returning once again to Phil’s side. He sat with him, close as ever, thighs touching, before he got to cooking.

"So," Brandon demanded as soon as the meat was done, and he could safely tear away at the large leg Dan had shared with him, "Story. Spill, King of Thieves. Why exactly are you Courting the Prince? And why is he accepting you?!"

Dan grinned. He deliberately leaned into Phil's side, watching Phil as he answered. "Well. It's a long story, and not one I believe you're deserving to hear."

"Why are you all the way out here, then?" Brandon demanded.

Dan flicked a glance at Phil, then looked back to Brandon, unsure exactly how much Phil would want to tell. "We're here… looking for something," Dan responded evasively. "We need dragon scale. For reasons."

Brandon's face blanched. “Dragon?”

"I know," Dan answered wryly. "But I’d remembered you telling me of a dragon who’d come in and stolen all your hoard. So we came here to look for it."

"You're mad," Brandon said casually, staring at Phil with renewed interest. "You especially, Captain. Following a man you've been trying to put in jail, and then going after a fucking dragon? You've lost it."

Picking at his own meal, Phil kept one eye glued to the plotting Duke off to the side, and the other on the bandit at his side, anxious and jittery with their identities being revealed so openly on both sides of their worlds. It felt uncomfortable and scary, something Phil had not been anticipating dealing with so soon.

He enjoyed the way Dan leaned into him though, enjoyed the way his thief appeared so proud of him, and only tensed again when the question arrived upon what they were doing.

Phil had been intending to let Dan handle this, but Brandon seemed intent on dragging Phil in.

"There are some things worth doing when you have something important to protect," Phil muttered in reply, throwing a dark look at the bandit across from him. "While you fear the King of Thieves far more than you fear me, I promise you, you'll regret the day you ever cross me."

Phil knew his words might not be as threatening as he wished they would be, considering Phil had never once actually caught Dan physically, and therefore might not be able to catch Brandon after all, but he hoped Dan was powerful enough that it would seem Phil and he were just well matched.

"So don't," he added for good measure, finally sinking his teeth into bloody meat, making a show of it as he glared at the bandit across for him. Gaze off of the Duke for now, Phil heard the telltale sign of movement, and only relaxed when he realized it was damn near impossible for the Duke to move away from Phil and down the mountain pass without Phil noticing.

He’d gone into the cave, then, and as Phil turned to offer him a glance, he found his suspicions proved true. The Duke was hiding away inside, looking disgruntled, harried, confused.

When Phil turned back to Brandon, the other man was smirking at him.

"Protective one, innit' he?" he asked of Dan, quirking a pleased brow at Phil's thief. Phil just caught the tail end of a pleased smirk before Dan was pinning Brandon with a glare of his own.

"As am I. Though I'm sure you know that already."

Feeling a rush go through him at the heat behind Dan's words, Phil hid a smirk behind his meal. It felt good, having Dan being so protective of him… better, even, then so long ago when he’d thrown a dagger at the Duke for him.

Dan stared Brandon down once again, making it more than apparent that Phil was not to be made fun of. He couldn't be more proud of his Prince than when he’d challenged Brandon, which was exactly the right thing to do with him. Dan was starting to see how Phil had been capable of putting all the thieves in the capital in jail, aside from Dan himself, of course. He'd caught Dan in a bit of a different way.

"Alright, I’m getting the message loud and clear." Brandon put both hands up, though he was still leering at Phil. "The Captain belongs to the King. Or maybe the King belongs to the Captain."

Dan sent a flat stare Brandon's way. "That mouth of yours has got you in trouble with me before."

"Meaning no harm, my King." Brandon bowed his head, suitably cowed, at least for the moment. His blade was safely back in place, at least, so Dan deemed him not to be an instant threat.

The Duke, he wasn't so sure of. He'd disappeared into the back reaches of the cave and hadn't said so much as a peep since, which made Dan worry that he was scheming something. Knowing that he knew Dan's true identity now was worrying, and not something Dan wanted to play around with.

He leaned into Phil, murmuring in his ear, "I think you should go and sort out the Duke. I can handle Brandon."

"Are you sure?" Phil whispered back, and the distrustful glare he shot Brandon's way warmed Dan's heart.

He hid his smile behind an eye-roll. "I can take care of my own, my Prince. I suggest you do the same."

Phil stared Dan down for another few seconds, eyes narrowed as he searched his gaze for any sign of trouble. When he found nothing, Phil merely grit his teeth, and reminded himself that he had to trust Dan. Dan had done the same for him, followed his orders, when Phil had insisted only yesterday. Phil could offer him the same sentiment, so he got up slowly, dinner mostly finished, and turned to follow the Duke back into the cave.

As he went, Phil knew he had no idea what he was going to do… but one thing was for sure; Phil was done playing games, and the Duke was about to learn that too.

Once Phil had gone, Dan moved towards Brandon, expression growing more serious. Brandon met his eyes with a stern look. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Trust me," Dan insisted.

"You always have my trust," Brandon answered easily, "And my loyalty, you know that. But are you sure you know what you're doing? A Prince?"

"I know what I'm doing," Dan assured him quietly. "But you have to keep this to yourself."

"Dan--"

"I know how this looks, Brandon, I'm not an idiot," Dan interrupted tersely. "But I assure you, I have not changed sides, and I have not been duped out of my ways. I am still the King of Thieves. The Prince and I have found a way to work together."

Brandon arched a brow, snorting. "Right. 'Work'. I'm sure that's all you've been doing."

"Whether we have or not is none of your business," Dan answered primly, though he could feel Brandon's gaze lingering on the marks Phil had left on his neck, on the ring and watch Dan was still wearing. Phil's courting gifts.

Brandon was cunning, more so than Dan sometimes gave him credit for. There was a reason he was one of the few thieves Dan had allowed into his inner circle, and that sharpness was evident now as he leaned in a little closer and murmured, “How serious are we talking, Dan? He’s got your bracelet.”

Dan glanced over to where Phil was leaning in close to the Duke. He could feel his eyes soften, and when he glanced back to Brandon, Brandon looked a little disconcerted.

“I can’t explain it,” Dan answered slowly. “Phil just… he’s not who I thought.”

Brandon arched a brow. “He tried to capture you, Dan. Last time you were here you were complaining about how he threw all of the others in jail. He’s the Captain, you wanted to kill him!”

“Not necessarily,” Dan answered coolly. “Only if he got in the way. And he didn’t. In fact… he’s sort of helping me.”

“He’s helping you steal,” Brandon answered flatly.

Dan laughed. “No, fuck, don’t let him hear you say that. But he knows who I am, what I do, and he’s… ok with it. Or at the very least, he won’t stop me. He’s doing good work in the capital, Brandon, he set up an orphanage.”

Brandon narrowed his eyes.

“A real one, not some hovel,” Dan continued. “And he’s got me out of some sticky situations.” Dan wasn’t about to tell Brandon exactly what sticky situations. The memory of being caught halfway up a chimney wasn’t one of Dan’s proudest moments.

Brandon still didn’t look convinced, so Dan added, “Trust me, Brandon. I know what I’m doing.”

Brandon shook his head, but he was grinning now, and stuck out a hand for Dan to shake. "I'll trust you with anything, King, you know that. A Prince. Bloody hell. I shouldn't put anything past you."

Dan was chuckling as he clasped Brandon's hand in his own. "No. No, you probably shouldn't."

The Duke was a cowering fool, Phil thought, as he made his way deeper into the cave only to find that the Duke had curled up in the far corner, legs and arms drawn to his chest protectively, and eyes shrewd as he stared at the approaching Phil.

“The King of Thieves,” the Duke said with a chuckle once Phil was close enough to hear him. Back here, they could just hear the murmur of Dan and Brandon speaking, though they were not deep in the earth at all, and Phil suspected they would hear very little of Phil and the Duke’s voice either.

“At least now the Kingdom can know why you haven’t put him behind bars yet,” the Duke added humorlessly when Phil nodded his assent. The words sent a sharp spike of fear through Phil’s heart that told him all he needed to know -- there was only one way this was going to end, only one way it had ever been able to end.

The Duke could not live on past this moment, no matter how much Phil abhorred death.

Throwing himself forward, Phil drew his dagger in a flash, taking it into his hand without hesitation and pushing it up under the Duke’s chin. The blade pierced at his skin as Phil moved his body to bracket the Duke’s against the cave wall he’d been sat against, body positioned in nothing less than a defensive offensive. Should the Duke struggle, Phil would be able to slit his throat in an instant.

“Oh, Duke,” Phil whispered, “How naive of you. Do you really think I’d let you speak a word of this to anyone?” he hissed, voice low and threatening. “I meant what I said before. I am not against cutting your tongue out, or breaking your fingers for that matter. Careful, or you’ll find yourself long dead before news of my courtship every reaches anyone’s ears but your own.”

The Duke would be so lucky if Phil were to do just that. He had no plans of letting the Duke leave this cave, no matter what he did or said. All Phil needed now… were some answers.

Below him, the Duke trembled in Phil’s hold. It was difficult to tell whether it was from fear, or anger, but Phil didn’t stop to consider that too much. The last thing he needed was to let his guard down, now.

Of course, that was the moment he did. The Duke’s eyes went wide, bugging in his skull as he went limp under Phil’s hold, loosening him enough that the blade was not quite touching his throat anymore, but close enough that Phil could still strike if he needed to. He wasn’t paying enough attention, however, far too busy trying to figure out what the Duke was about to say, when he opened his mouth on a strangled, “Okay, please, I --” only to cut himself off with a move so sudden, Phil had no chance to see it coming.

The Duke was not smooth, nor was he delicate. He had no finesse, and far less skill than either Dan or Phil, but it appeared he was an expert at taking his victim off guard in close contact, and that was no less true with Phil, who found himself winded and pinned to the same wall he’d had the Duke pinned to only moments before. The Duke was swift, though clumsy, as he knocked Phil’s arm away and disarmed him, grabbing onto his blade before it could clatter to the ground and alert Dan and Brandon to what was occurring.

The palm of his hand came up to bash into Phil’s nose, disorienting him enough that he was able to get away with the movement, and then, quite suddenly, he had his own dagger drawn to Phil’s throat.

Winded and dizzy, still trying to recover from the blow to his nose, Phil gripped tight to both of the Duke’s arms and glared hard into his dark eyes. For a moment, the two were locked in a tense stalemate, with Dan and the bandit just down the way, unaware of Phil’s predicament. Surely, if they just took a moment to glance behind them, past the shadow of night, they would see all, but would they be fast enough to rescue Phil if his life was truly on the line?

He wasn’t so sure, and the Duke seemed to realize this as well, grinning a deathly smirk at Phil.

Grunting, Phil suddenly shoved at the Duke’s arms, trying to send him sprawling backwards, take him off guard, using the weight he still had on one of his feet to keep them locked together, arms shaking. The crouched position hurt, and was taking every bit of strength that Phil had in him, but he wasn’t planning to ever let it go. Not if he planned to survive this night.

The Duke, for his part, merely shoved Phil back, locking them in a stalemate, neither man able to move, despite the Duke having a dagger to Phil’s throat.

"Careful, my Prince," the Duke hissed, casting a discerning eye towards Dan, "or I may very well destroy everything you've worked so hard for. And I'm certain you wouldn't like that, now would you? Stop playing with me. I am not an idiot, and I hold your greatest weakness in the palm of my hands right this minute."

Grunting, Phil allowed one of his arms to be dislodged from his hold on the Duke, and even allowed himself to be pressed closer to the ground, back bent awkwardly as the Duke stood threateningly over him. It was the only thing he could think of, to let the Duke think he had the advantage, and he was flicking through strategies so fast in his head that he thought he was back at school, trying to memorize the logistics of battle.

Sometimes, you had to give a step, to gain ten.

"And what's that?" Phil grunted, moving to reach for the curved, jagged knife Dan had given him before, the one wrapped around the opposite arm -- the one the Duke was still locked in combat with, but which he wasn’t watching, far too consumed with shoving the dagger at Phil’s throat. Phil’s arm was locked in a downward position, the knife hidden slightly from view. If he could just reach it...

Smirking, the Duke replied "Your heart."

For one moment, the words struck fear into Phil’s heart. The realization that the Duke very much so did hold his weakness in the knowledge of who Dan was, made him tremble and nearly lose his focus, but it was then that he recalled another strategy he’d learned so long ago, now.

His commanding officer in training had taught him to use his emotions to his advantage, rather than trying to control them. Sometimes, the simplest slip could gain the most advantage, as Phil had learned when a classmate had taken away a small Trigen Fairy he’d rescued, and he’d used his anger to beat them to a pulp, when they’d been four times his size.

Drawing on that strength now, Phil let the pain and terror hit him, clear as day to the Duke, to distract him for just a moment. If he could just get the Duke to let his guard down, even for a second…

“No one holds my heart,” Phil spat out.

“Are you sure about that, Prince Phillip? Because I was under the impression that not only did your supposed Courter the King of Thieves hold it, but so did your family, both of whom are at risk of death if you don’t make it to that Dragon in the next three weeks,” the Duke hissed back, looking beyond gleeful as he pressed the dagger harder still at Phil’s neck.

The words were enough to destroy him, and he nearly wilted completely against the stone floor beneath him. He was just barely holding on, eyes filling with tears, because the Duke was right.

But that only meant Phil was going to fight harder, still.

“Am I wrong?” the Duke added, when Phil had yet to reply.

“No,” Phil gritted out through clenched teeth. The Duke and he were pressed so close together now that Phil could feel the Duke’s breath puffing against his face. This was everything Phil had known was coming and yet had hoped to avoid.

He’d long since made up his mind what he had to do here, but he still had questions to ask.

“Why are you doing this? For the witch? What has she promised you?” Phil spit out, the words hateful, desperate, as he let his emotions rush forward. Just one second, the Duke just needed to slip for one second…

Phil’s fingers gripped tight to the handle of the curved knife he’d yet to use, tied so tight to his upper arm, that he almost feared he’d cut himself dislodging it. If he did, so be it. He just needed an opening now.

The Duke, on the other hand, did not react the way Phil had been expecting. His eyes went wide, and the devilish smirk turned to a confused frown as he stared down at Phil.

“The witch?” he asked, clearly confused, hand pushing harder against Phil. “What does the witch have to do with any of this? You honestly think I got myself involved with --” the Duke cut himself off, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. The dagger in his hands pressed so close to Phil’s neck, he felt it nick him, and he groaned as he tried to shove back harder against the Duke.

“I’m not stupid enough to fall for her tricks. Even her so called gifts…” the Duke, despite himself, looked enthralled for a second, before shaking it away. “Her gifts always look so good on the surface, but I know better. I’ve seen the things they do to people, their greed eating them away… No. I merely used her meddling in the affairs of your brother to my advantage. You see, Philip,” the Duke continued, his confusion turning once more to a smirk, “I want only one thing, and I think you know what that is.”

Phil’s strength was beginning to give out. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to hold himself together like this, keep the Duke away, prevent him from killing him, but he had to hold on. For Dan, for his parents… for himself.

“You see, Philip. While others seek the favor of the dragon, of the witch, to give them what they want, I see the truth. They will forever be in their debt. But if you go out and take it for yourself… well, then, there’s no one who can take it away from you, now is there?” the Duke mused, something gleeful in his eyes. “I want the crown, the power, the wealth… I want Royalty, my dear Prince, and the way I see it, you’ve only got one choice left here.”

Pulling back slightly, the Duke said, “Release the King of Thieves from your Courtship, agree to marry me, and then I will take you to the Dragon and help you save your people. Without me, you are helpless. The people of this mountain would sooner feed you to it than allow you any chance to get what you need.”

The moment was coming, Phil could feel it. The Duke was growing cocky, believing that he had won, that’d drawn the ace of hearts in this deck of cards they were pulling, but Phil knew the truth. He would get past the villagers, Duke or not, and like hell was he ever giving up Dan.

But he needed the Duke to make just one more mistake, let up just a little more…

Phil drew his curved knife from his arm band.

“And if I don’t?” he asked.

The Duke laughed. "Well then I'll have to kill you, and with you dead, the palace and the rest of the royals will fall with you. I don't believe you want that kind of blood on your hands now do you, Prince?"

Phil closed his eyes, let out a deep breath, felt his fingers grip tight.

"And if I do as you wish?"

The Duke leaned closer. "You'll marry me, and we'll have the King of Thieves assassinated, and then, my Prince, you will rule under me."

It was the moment Phil had been waiting for, the mistake he’d been expecting. The Duke had said the magic words, believed himself all powerful enough over Phil’s life to think he could get away with threatening Dan’s life, and he’d let up enough that Phil could move almost freely, now. In one, swift movement, Phil drew his arm free from under the Duke, and dragged the sharp, serrated end against the Duke’s throat.

Blood spilled from the wound like no other, spurting against Phil’s face as the Duke choked, blood burbling from his lips as Phil moved quickly to finish disarming him. The Duke’s dagger clattered uselessly to the ground beside Phil’s head, and Phil let himself fall limp against the Earth, forcing his knees to unbend so he could sprawl out properly while the Duke collapsed on top of him.

Phil’s arms came up to grasp onto the Duke’s, holding him in place before he could fully suffocate him, and he watched as the man who’d wrongly threatened to take everything away from Phil choked to death on his own blood.

“That, my dear Duke Hemsworth,” Phil hissed, “Was for threatening my Dan.”

The Duke’s eyes rolled to the back of his own head, and Phil watched as the life drained out of him, uncaring for the blood that now stained and ruined his borrowed tunic.

It was the gurgling sound that finally alerted Dan and Brandon to the scuffle happening behind them, and within seconds, Dan was on his feet with his dagger in hand, Brandon crouched next to him sporting his own wicked blade. They both fell into a natural crouch, spinning towards the cave with the fire at their backs, well used to fighting together.

Dan's heart was cold and gripped with fear for Phil, realising too late that he never should have allowed the Duke time with Phil alone away from Dan and Brandon. That was the last time Dan was letting his guard down.

He stalked slowly towards the back of the cave, motioning Brandon along with him, until they were close enough to see what was going on, only to find Phil, covered in blood, cradling the dead body of the Duke.

Dan let out a rushed breath and dropped his dagger instantly, running straight for Phil. Immediately, he bore some of the Duke's weight, lifting him off Phil to allow his Prince out of the tiny crevice he'd managed to squeeze himself into.

The Duke's dead body was far heavier than it might have looked. With blood dripping down onto Phil, he grit his teeth as he tried to hold the Duke up and away from him, not wanting to bear his weight in any other way. Phil was just trying to think of a way to get Dan and Brandon's attention when the two suddenly appeared, a low, terrified sound escaping from Dan's lips as he immediately moved in to help release Phil from the Duke's weight over him.

"Are you hurt?" Dan demanded, voice tight as he stared at Phil.

It took a moment, Phil’s eyes wide with the horror of what he’d just done, the panic and adrenaline of a fight like that, but he eventually managed to nod his head. Standing on shaking legs, Phil helped Dan to move the Duke’s body, dropping him unceremoniously in the middle of the cave. Phil reached up to wipe a hand over his face, sighing loudly as his heart raced in his chest.

It had only just occurred to him that he could have died, but he couldn't regret what had happened.

Dan relaxed marginally at knowing Phil wasn’t hurt, and helped Phil to dump the body of the Duke back in the centre of the cave.

The stench of blood was overpowering.

Dan studied the Duke, and it was easy to see the mortal injury -- a slit right across his throat.

Phil's blade was bloodied.

Brandon wolf whistled appraisingly. "The Captain has some skill." He nudged the Duke's body with his foot, watching as his head lolled. "Can I have his armour, if you won't be needing him anymore?"

Dan ignored Brandon, still fixated on Phil. He placed both hands on Phil's shoulders and spun him around.

"What the hell happened? I told you to talk to him, not put yourself in danger!" Of course, Dan knew Phil must be more than capable of protecting himself, but he was still shocked and a little scared. Phil had been close to death, and Dan had been right there but hadn’t had a clue. That was a terrifying thought.

Brandon's words were almost a blur, but when Dan spun Phil and forced Phil to look at him, those words hit home.

Phil could see the fear clear as day on Dan's face, the anger he was using to mask it nearly overpowering, and uncaring that he was covered in another man's blood, Phil dropped his knife, cupped Dan's cheeks, and pulled him into a searing kiss, eyes scrunched close as he tried to remind them both that he was alive.

Maybe Phil needed it just as much as Dan, though, because before he knew it, he was tangling his fingers through Dan’s hair and crushing their bodies together, keening into the kiss as he remembered the Duke’s threat. Phil had nearly died, but so could have Dan, and that was not something that Phil could have stood for.

His fingers threaded through Dan’s hair, cupped the back of his head, and then skated down over his body, dirtying his clothes, but Phil didn’t care. He had a Dan to touch, to reassure, to hold, and there was nothing else he could have wanted more in the world just then.

By the time Phil pulled away, he and Dan were both panting, and Brandon was ignoring them completely by beginning to pick apart the Duke's armor and personal items. Chuckling in relief, Phil dropped his forehead to Dan's shoulder.

"If it belongs to the Duke, take what you will. We have no use of it," Phil said just loud enough for Brandon to hear, chuckling again when the man broke into celebratory dance.

"I've got the Captain's blessing to rob, what a day this is!" Brandon sing-songed.

Phil merely shook his head, grinning into Dan's shoulder, and sighing as Dan wrapped his arms around Phil. His touch was like fire, gripping tight to Phil’s clothing like he never wanted to let him go again. He was tense, though, tense enough that Phil looked up at him in surprise, only to realize just how pissed Dan still looked, and that Phil had not yet answered his question from earlier.

"I did what I had to to protect you, my thief," Phil muttered lowly, heart still fluttering roughly in his chest. He could feel the exhaustion hitting him hard, could smell the blood on himself, and just wanted to get cleaned up already, but he still had an angry Dan to deal with. "He threatened you, my kingdom, my family. I would not stand for that,” Phil explained.

Dan didn’t look impressed, nor did he look convinced, so Phil narrowed his eyes at him and said, “I knew what I was doing. He would not have had the upper hand for long if I hadn't wanted him too."

Dan's eyes narrowed further and further the more Phil spoke. He might be overreacting, but he just didn't care - Phil was important to him, and the idea of losing him was not something Dan could bear. He nudged his chin against Phil's head and growled, "Either way, you shouldn't be putting yourself in danger like that. Brandon and I were right here. Why didn't you call for help?"

Phil shook his head. "I would not have allowed any blood shed without proper cause,” he said. "Had I called for help, there was little doubt the Duke never would have spoken to me the way he did. I wasn't going to allow his blood on my hands without reasonable cause; threatening your life was reason enough. And besides, had he felt more threatened by you than he already did, there would have been a higher chance one of us would have died. I wasn't risking your life like that.”

Phil's gaze was hard. He didn't want Dan to question him. They wouldn’t have been safe, had Phil done anything different, no matter how Dan wished it so.

"He's not your child, my King," Brandon interrupted as he scooped up a ring off the Duke's finger. "Unless your relationship is even weirder than I thought."

"Yes, OK, that's quite enough," Dan sniffed primly, turning his attention back to Phil. He squeezed him tight, refusing to let Phil move back from his chest, and pulled him in for another rough kiss.

Despite the blood covering his face, Dan was clearly just as desperate to remind himself that Phil was alive, because it was only seconds later that he was dragging Phil into another rough kiss. Phil melted into it, exhausted as he was, and let Dan dominate him.

"I won't lie; I'm glad he's dead," Dan murmured against his lips, "But I did not want you to be the one to do it. Won't there be repercussions? His family won't start a Royal feud, or something? What about the witch, you said he might be involved with her?" Dan shook his head, nibbling worriedly on his lower lip. "We can always say Brandon did it."

"Oh, thanks," Brandon huffed. "Nice to see such loyalty from my King."

Rolling his eyes once Dan had pulled away, Phil drew him close for another short peck.

"Who's going to know I murdered him, Dan? Unless you or Brandon plan on outing me, there's no reason there would be any political backlash. It's just as well I killed him rather than you. I would not have that used against you should that come out," Phil explained. “As for the witch… well. Turns out I was wrong about their involvement. All that information he could give us on her… he gave on day one.”

Dan frowned. “Oh? He had no more information?”

Phil shook his head. “He wasn’t involved. In fact, he seemed quite fearful of dark magic from the way he was talking, and I wouldn’t doubt he would simply flee if he ever saw her in reality. He was an opportunist; nothing more.”

Dan nodded slowly, taking that in. So their fears about some plot to take over Phil’s family were unfounded, but that wasn’t as reassuring as it should be. There was still no explanation for the curse, other than the witch feeling somehow jilted, and Phil’s family were still in imminent danger. The sooner they got that dragon scale, the better.

But it was hard to think on that now, when Dan had Phil in his arms, safe, alive. Dan was maybe melting just a little bit that Phil was being so caring and protective of him. It was one of the first times Dan had ever had someone else sticking up for him, standing up for his life, and it set Dan's heart to racing, and a broad, soft smile spreading across his face.

"Alright, ok, I'm glad I didn't have to die." Dan shook his head, straightening out Phil's fringe and dusting down his jacket, "But I can take care of myself. His threats were never that great. I don't like you in danger, my Prince. Even if you did do a good job of killing him."

"As if I like putting you in danger anymore than you do me," Phil replied smartly, crossing his arms over chest a bit defiantly. Dan seemed to have relaxed a bit, however, for which Phil was grateful. To top it all off, the Duke was finally no longer a threat, and wouldn't be interrupting their lives any longer.

As much as Dan wanted to keep kissing Phil, the drying blood was a little bit off-putting, so Dan reluctantly pulled away and turned to see Brandon still ransacking the Duke’s body.

Dan couldn't help but smirk at the sight. The great Duke Hemsworth reduced to nothing but a bloody corpse being robbed by thieves was a very satisfying sight, no matter how it may have happened. Still, Dan tapped his foot and raised an eyebrow down at Brandon. "If you've got a minute, I think the good Prince needs a bath. Where's the nearest water?"

"There's a lake up there." Brandon jerked his chin up the pass, then narrowed his eyes at Dan. "It's my main source, though. Don't go… defiling it."

Dan did nothing but smirk evilly, reaching down to entwine his fingers with Phil's and tug him on his way.

"I'm serious, King! No funny business!" Brandon called after them, but Dan was already chuckling as he and Phil disappeared back onto the mountain pass.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phanfictioncatalogue #phan #dan and phil #fic #steal my heart #iwritephanthings #snowbunnylester

47 notes · View notes