#and of course des and clay are gonna make it hell for him

[sombertide-0]

another spix drawing featuring @sparrow-in-boots' Clay! honestly not a huge fan of how the colors turned out so here's a colorless screenshot edit: I FORGOT HIS FUCKING SCAR, MY BAD

[thetriggeredhappy]

How about the team agreeing to play baseball with Scout for his birthday? Because they always admired how happy and free he looks when he's running. (SniperScout in between if possible would be great)

pushed up in the requests backlog for reasons. team bonding fic is best fic

(warnings for alcohol mention and passing non-graphic cartoonish violence)

-

“The hell is he so excited about?” Demo asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over his shoulder towards where Scout was laughing his way down the hall.

“No idea,” the Engineer said, shuffling the deck neatly. “Been all high-energy high-spirits the whole damn day.”

“Unfortunately,” Medic agreed, a little bitter. That garnered several more raised eyebrows from around the table.

“Twice in one day Doktor has to fix broken leg in fighting,” Heavy explained, placing a placating hand on Medic’s shoulder. “And Scout takes many bad risks. Overconfident.”

A questioning noise from within Pyro’s suit. “I’d sure like to know why, as well,” Engie nodded. “Tryin’ out some new energy drink, maybe?”

“High spirits and hubris from consistent victory?” Soldier suggested.

“You’re joking,” Sniper suddenly cut in, glancing around the table, who all looked right back, surprised to hear him cutting in on the usual gossip. “...You lot really didn’t remember?”

A snort from Spy, a vague shrug from the rest of the table.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

A pause, then noises of surprise, shock, and from some of the table, alarm. “A repeat of last year, how very unfortunate,” Spy hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

Pyro shouted something with no small amount of conviction that might have been along the lines of “this is terrible!”. Demo seemed to agree, from the shock on his face, the widening of his eye.

“Oh no,” Heavy rumbled, looking legitimately worried. Medic’s eyebrows were furrowed.

“I can’t believe you,” Sniper deadpanned, glaring at all the other mercenaries sitting there. “First year, you don’t bother wishing him a happy birthday. Second year, he plans a whole damn party for himself so you lot wouldn’t forget again and half of you don’t plan ahead and we get scheduled out on a mission and leave the bugger all alone all weekend. And you promise you won’t forget again. And one year later, here we are.”

Pyro appeared to be in a state of panic, pacing at high speed behind their chair, tugging at various points of their suit in high agitation. The Engineer’s face was largely hidden behind the hardhat and goggles and the hand clamped over the bottom part of his face.

“Perhaps he won’t be upset,” Medic suggested. “We all simply wish him a happy birthday and have drinks.”

“We do that every other weekend,” Demo pointed out. Soldier murmured in the affirmative.

“Sniper has remembered,” Heavy noted, looking at the man in question. “Maybe team helps with plans?”

“I already got him a gift,” Sniper mumbled, fidgeting with his hat. “But I don’t think we’ll manage to pass it off as from the whole team.”

“He’s gonna be so disappointed if he finds out that we forgot again,” Engie sighed, head in his hands. “It’ll break his damn heart.”

“So once again, it seems that I’ll need to step in and save you all,” Spy drawled, putting his glass down and reaching into his jacket, pulling out and unfolding a sheet of paper. “With your collective track record regarding this specific event, I assumed you would all forget again, and so took some steps to ensure that there would be a backup plan when the event arises and we wouldn’t need to deal with moodiness and general malaise from the team for the next several weeks.”

The Engineer took the paper, holding it so Medic could read it at the same time as him, Heavy leaning to try and get a look. Eyebrows began to rise. The paper was passed around the remainder of the table.

“You think this’ll work?” Demo asked suspiciously.

“Obviously. Well, and to be fair, you don’t exactly have any other options.”

He had them there.

-

“—Just totally can’t believe you talked Miss P into lettin’ us do this that’s just the coolest shit in the world lemme tell ya, like seriously that’s completely nuts and I can’t even believe it, she’s the best—!“

Scout had only stopped talking long enough to breathe over the course of the entire walk from the base to the makeshift baseball pitch that the Engineer had propped up overnight, absolutely bubbling and more high-energy than any of them had assumed to even be possible—even for him. And most of them had anticipated already hating the idea by the time they got to the pitch, but so far things were actually going rather well. The uniforms that had been shipped in (in their team colors, obviously) all fit them correctly and weren’t nearly as embarrassing as expected, in particular since most of them opted to keep at least one part of their usual wardrobe in the mix, such as masks or helmets or hats. Pyro, for one, just put the baseball uniform on over their entire flamesuit, but nobody was particularly surprised.

They crested the little ridge and got a look at the pitch, and for a moment, Scout went silent, eyes wide and mouth agape. Demo elbowed the Engineer to get his attention and flashed a thumbs up, making him grin and fluster a bit, mumbling about how it was nothin’ special, really.

“Alright,” Scout finally said, turning to them with his hands on his hips, taking on an authoritative tone. “So who here knows how baseball works?”

The Engineer and Soldier raised their hands. After a moment, Sniper and Pyro tentatively did the same. Demo made a so-so motion with one hand.

“And who knows how sandlot baseball works?”

Everyone but the Engineer dropped their hands, and even then, he looked a little doubtful.

“Alright,” Scout said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “So we don’t exactly got enough people to make a real team—need twelve for a standard six-players-a-team. So we’re gonna be improvising a little bit.”

He looked around, and started addressing each of them with a pointed finger.

“Heavy,” he said, and the giant raised an eyebrow. “You’re catcher, all you gotta do is stay behind first base and catch the ball so it doesn’t roll away. I know you’re not gonna flinch when you see somethin’ speeding at your head, yeah?”

Heavy nodded thoughtfully.

“Cyclops, first base,” Scout said next. “Fucks with your blind spot the least, and you know how to throw shit. Mumbles, you’re on second, Helmet-Head on third.”

Demo flashed a thumbs-up, Pyro clapped their hands together, and Soldier raised an arm in a sturdy salute.

“Doc, right field. Odds are, none of these chuckleheads are gonna hit anything too far to the left or right of normal, but if they do, you’re like practically as fast as I am and can handle it. Spy, you hang out back there in left field. I know you’re probably not gonna catch shit if it comes at you, but hey, it’s worth a shot and you won’t gotta deal with much anyways.”

Medic nodded at the compliment and Spy raised an eyebrow at the insult.

“And Snipes, you’re the pitcher,” Scout concluded, hands returning to his hips.

There was a snort from Demo. Sniper elbowed him.

“Figured you know how to throw shit and won’t straight up brain anyone,” Scout continued, not noticing the squabble. “And I’ll be first up to bat, and we’ll cycle through everyone in that same order, starting as soon as you guys can stop me from running all the bases, then we’ll play normally from there, how’s that sound?”

“You’re sure talkin’ yourself a big game there, son,” the Engineer observed, eyebrows raised.

“Damn right, I’ve been playin’ this shit since I was three,” Scout said, grinning wide. “This is gonna kick ass.”

-

Indeed, the first eight pitches went by in pretty rapid succession. Two because they fumbled and hesitated and miscommunicated in their pitching and couldn’t beat him to the bases, two after that as Scout scored home runs, another general fumble, another home run, one where the ball landed a few feet away from Spy who outright didn’t attempt to catch it, only kicking it closer to Medic as he rushed up to get it, and then one where Scout didn’t notice until he was back at home base that Soldier had unintentionally thrown the ball directly into the side of Pyro’s head (who was distracted by drawing shapes into the dirt at their feet).

They just barely managed to get him out on third, and then it was Demo’s turn.

Overall, by the first circuit through the whole team, they were surprised to find that they were actually having fun, even and especially with the odd shenanigans that ensued during the course of the game. There was one point where Soldier full-body tackled Demo at first base (just slightly confused about a few of the contact rules), and another where Sniper thought it would be funny to throw a hard ball of clay from at his feet, sending the team laughing as it exploded all over Pyro’s suit and they needed to stop to wipe the lenses on their mask clear. Demo surprised all of them with the first bunt of the game, and the Engineer with sending the ball soaring nearly into a homerun, with him sheepishly asking if using the Gunslinger to swing was allowed after he’d already run the bases. Then there was Pyro calmly stealing their way to third after the team thought their turn was over, and Heavy accidentally cracking the bat, and Medic absolutely eating shit as he tried to take off towards first. And nobody for sure knew how to react to the one time that Spy actually caught the ball, all but diving to catch it and send it to second just in time to get Soldier out. And of course, all of them were left just slightly in awe as Scout sent home run after home run sailing towards the stratosphere.

They finally had to stop when it was getting dark and Heavy informed them that they didn’t have any more baseballs left in the bucket for all the ones sent sailing far foul or off into the distance with a homerun. Soldier and Demo promised to go pick them up the following day and they all began their trudge back to base, covered in the bright orange loam of the desert and already slightly sore and feeling like they were in much higher spirits than any of them had expected. Scout, most of all, seemed... contented. Not just cheerful, not just bubbly, but contented, satisfied. Happy. He seemed so very happy.

Several of them, glancing around between themselves, considered telling Scout the truth, that they hadn’t put in nearly as much work as he thought they did. But most of them just settled in for saying happy birthday a few more times over assorted bottles of booze and maybe even a movie.

Sniper, for one, was a little fidgety on the way back to base. Halfway there, he took Scout by the shoulder, pulling him to slow down just a bit.

“Had, er,” Sniper said once they were a good few meters trailed behind the team, eyes averted. “Heavy said we were out, but. Had, er. Had one ball left.”

He pulled the baseball in question out of his pocket, unfolded it from the handkerchief it was in, passed it over, a little sheepish. Scout took it, confused, turning it over in his hands.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The rest of the team slowed and turned as they realized two of their party weren’t with them. Scout’s mouth was agape.

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD—“ Scout babbled suddenly, eyes widening, practically starting to vibrate in place. “—is this a real actual serious legitimate gen-u-ine real signature? Snipes please tell me you’re not fuckin’ around right now ohmyGOD.”

“Nah, yeah, from the actual bloke,” Sniper agreed, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yats-rem-key, something like?”

“Only just jersey number eight, left fielder for the Boston Red Sox, five-time All-Star four-time Gold Glove winner and three-time batting champion, Triple Crown winner and overall MVP in the entire American Major League of baseball, Carl Michael motherfuckin’ Yastrzemski!”

Sniper faltered under the sudden weight of the entirety of Scout as he was all but tackled in a hug, Scout continuing to babble excitedly on about the man whose signature was on the baseball in his hands. There was a general chuckle and rolling of eyes from the team as they watched the scene unfold.

“And we’re sure Sniper’s not the catcher, then?” Demo asked lightly, and with Sniper not there to elbow him, the Engineer took his place, making Demo snicker.

“If you would please cease embarrassing yourselves,” Spy called over after giving them a solid minute, which made Scout look up and apparently notice the entire team looking at them, flushing red and promptly trying to pretend he didn’t just do all that. “I believe that Heavy has prepared some kind of cake and I for one would rather not eat it after Pyro has covered it in candles and torched them all.”

Indeed, Pyro by then had a good head start on the team, who all hurried to catch up. And they all bumbled their way through at least five nationalities’ rendition of a Happy Birthday Song, and each very nearly got through their slice before the first scrap of the night began and the rest of it was lost in the mayhem, and overall, Scout would remark the next day through the haze of his hangover that actually, that was easily one of his favorite birthdays in a long time.

[scottfuckingreed]

So wrong, It’s right - Montgomery De La Cruz

-

NOT REQUESTED

-

Warnings!: smutty and cute (exactly how I imagine Monty actually)

-

Can you admire something you’re a little afraid of? Is that possible or does that just contradict the entire point? Being the twin sister of Scott Reed means you’re in the jock group a lot. I’m around people like Bryce Walker and Montgomery De La Cruz all the time. I’m afraid of the power boys - men - like that have. And yet, I’m totally struck by them. Doodling around my notepad, I fade back into the classroom scene. Mrs Bradley goes on about how we need to be there for each other, and how to tell if our ‘friends’ are actually not okay even if they say they are. It’s pointless really, because it’s clear no one cares. It’s unfortunate. “Are you taking notes?” A whisper falls into my ear. I turn around to see an ‘innocent’ smile form on Monty’s face. “Why would I be taking notes?” I whisper back with a slight laugh. I’m not sure if some of these boys think playing dumb is cute, or they’re actually just stupid; probably both. “You just look like you’re taking notes,” he shrugs defensively and turns back to his area. I continue squiggling on my page until I feel a breath on my neck. My hairs stand instantly in an unknown way, sending shivers down my spine and a strange feeling in my stomach. “So what are you doing?” He whispers again. Rolling my eyes, I turn to him once again. “I’m decorating my page.” “You’re decorating your- what? Thats fucking stupid.” Sometimes I don’t get Monty’s responses. I know Monty is like that all the time. Rude? But why? The other’s are like it too. I just don’t know who’s genuinely a prick most of the time.

I wander over to Zach, who’s sat with Alex and he’s sat with Clay and those people. I don’t actually have a massive problem with Clay. I think he’s sweet. “Hey!” I smile when I get there. The response from Clay is a slight frown. Jess’ is a VERY small smile. Barely noticeable. “What do you want?” Clay mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “Clay-“ Jess laughs awkwardly. All I can do is smile. I get it. “Okay, I deserve that I guess.” I may have been involved in some ‘teasing’ back in the day when it comes to Clay. But that’s in the past. “I was just seeing if you were coming, Zach?” I shuffle my books that lay in my arms. “Nah I don’t think so, but you can join us if you want,” I love Zach. He’s a bit of an idiot a lot of the time, but his heart’s in the right place. Clay snaps his head very quickly at those words. “I don’t think I’m wanted here, but thanks anyway. I’ll see you guys around.” Walking away, I see Monty waiting for me. “Zachy staying with the pussies?” I roll my eyes and hit him on the arm. “Shut up, that’s not cute.” He chuckles and we walk to lunch.

We meet up with Scott, Charlie, Bryce and Marcus. “Where’s Zach?” Is the first thing Bryce, or anyone, says as we approach. “He’s with Clay and the other dipshits,” Monty laughs and sounds all cool and stuff. All I can do is roll my eyes. What do guys like Monty get from being nasty a lot of the time? “I think Y/N’s been flirting with me,” he adds, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close. I imagine he thinks I like being this close to him. I grab his finger and drop his arm away. “Your ego is fucking massive,” I grunt with a smile. I take my water bottle out of my bag. “Almost as big as my dick,” I almost spit my water back out. Bad timing to take a drink. I get a poke on my shoulder, and that’s what does it for Scott. “Please don’t flirt with my sister in front of me!” He pushes Monty playfully on the shoulders. When I see Monty’s eyebrows raise, I know there’s something going on in his head. And his brain like never works. “Oh okay, I’ll just flirt with her when you’re not around then!” And a play fight erupts between all of them. “Alright kids!” Bryce pushes his foot against Monty, which makes both boys tumble to the ground. I swear the boys at the school are children.

Most of the guy’s had last period free - so they’d already gone home - leaving me to get home on my own. I finally leave the hell hole and bump into Monty. “Montgomery!” I smile, nudging my elbow into him. “Y/N, what do you want?” He chuckles. It sounds awkward or nervous, but that’s not Monty. Like, at all. “I was thinking... you could give me a lift home?” I smile innocently. He begins to walk, which his steps are bigger than mine, so I slightly jog to catch up. “Why would I do that?” His eyes scan me up and down. “Because you love me?” I stick my bottom lip out. The smile on his face only grows. He pretty much shakes his head until we reach his beautiful Jeep. I’m actually in love with his car. He doesnt reply. Instead he just stared at me with that grin. “Because I’m really fun to be around?” I ask again. Same response; he shakes his head. “Because I’m annoying and it’ll shut me up?” He raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he says simply. All I can do is smile when I get into his car. “You’re so chirpy,” he laughs and starts the engine. “I know you love me,” once again, he shakes his head. “You wish.”

“Do you like what you see?” He smirks at me. I roll my eyes in a rush. “I’m not even looking at you,” I smile and turn my head out the window. I’ve actually watched every tap his fingers did against the steering wheel. I’d seen him nod along to whatever shit was on the radio. Not staring, but in the corner of my eye. Which I think is possibly worse. “I know you are, but it’s okay,” my eyes look back towards him. “I’m gonna have to tell Scotty that his little sister’s checking his best friend out,” I shake my head with a laugh. “We’re literally twins,” is all I can argue.

Monty turns in to the driveway to my house. “Thanks for that, Cruz-y,” he smiles very slightly at my words. Like, VERY slightly. “I guess it’s okay, but you definitely owe me,” I smile back at him and nod. “Of course, you can’t do anything to just ‘be nice’ can you?” I joke, chuckling as I open the door and hop out of his car. “Wait, Y/N,” he shouts out the open window. I watch as the boy gets out his car with something in his hand. “You almost left your phone,” he drops it in my hand. I tap it on his shoulder, and I automatically feel guilty for some reason. I haven’t done anything wrong, or anything I wouldn’t usually do. But I feel guilty. “Did you just, do something nice? For me?!” I drop my jaw with a gleaming smile. “I’m just a nice person,” he shrugs. “Well, I appreciate it,” I feel like I stand waiting for something that’s never gonna happen. I gazed towards the boy for what seems like ages. There was nothing to wait for. It was just awkward blank air. To break the silence, I turn and walk into my house. I’m not sure what else I was meant to do. I run up the stairs, excited to be home, and get out of my ‘nice’ clothes. Sweats and a bralette. It’s time to relax.

I set myself up. Pencils, my sketch pad, and myself laid on my stomach on my bed. Music on. Sometimes I draw from a picture, sometimes from my head, but most of the time it’s just doodles. Today it’s from my head. Just head with eyes and a face and everything. And time flies when you’re invested in something. “Wow,” is all I hear. I jump too much, shooting my head upwards and seeing Montgomery looking over at my book. “Holy shit!” My hand immediately goes over my pounding chest. That was not okay! “You could’ve knocked!” I shout, sitting myself up. “I did, you were just concentrating,” he shrugs and starts looking around my room. He picks up an ornament. I stand up, walking over to him and taking it off of him. It’s only when I get up that I remember what I’m wearing. I feel exposed. His eyes look my body up and down. And suddenly he’s in a rush. “Anyway, I just came to scare you,” and he leaves. Strange.

- A few days later -

A tight black dress. It fits like a glove around my hips, hugging my thighs nicely. This is an outfit that makes me feel like a bad bitch. “I know you’ve worn that dress just to piss me off,” Scott shakes his head as we drive to Bryce’s. Another stupid house party. Although I hate them, I find myself going to every one; enjoying myself too. “I don’t do it to piss you off Scott,” I laugh. He raises his eyebrows immediately. “I know exactly who you dress like that for,” which makes me heat up. Luckily my foundation hides the redness in my cheeks. I don’t even glance his way. I can’t. “Why is everything always about Monty?” It stresses me out that everything is about that boy. “Can’t I just dress up for myself?” I add, rather snappily. Here we are. Bryce pretty much has a car park in front of his fucking house. He might as well have ‘I’m a rich prick’ tattooed on his forehead. “You can, Y/N,” and he gets out the car. You can hear everything from inside the car, let alone walking towards the party itself. Pretty sure I felt the vibrations from the street over. “But did I mention Monty?” Our eyes lock. I swear he said his name? Shit.

Shit music, a load of half naked girls, and too many Varsity jackets? We must be at a Bryce Walker party. I don’t know half of these people here. But I do know Zach! I can’t rush over to him at the drinks table fast enough. “Hey!” I smile. “Y/N, dragged along again?” He asked, handing me a cup. The burning stench of whatever-the-fuck shoots through my nose with just one small sniff. “Jesus Christ, what’s in this?” An adorable smile spreads across his face. He’s so pure I swear. “It’s actually a shorter list if you ask what’s not in it,” he shrugs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if the boy is smart enough to flirt with me. I leave it at silence, bringing the cup up to my lips. “Everything,” I look back his way. He leans himself down and gets close to my ear. The warmth of his breath does nothing to my body. “I put everything in it. Enjoy!” Is what he finishes with before walking away dancing.

I find myself dancing with everybody and nobody. The fun thing about a party is you don’t need to know anybody. Especially if there’s a lot of people, and you’re drunk. And since there’s everything in my cup, it’s safe to say that I’m a little gone after half of it. “Ah!” I shout and point, seeing a familiar boy across the room. “Where have you been?!” I shout ask. I think I ran over to him. Whatever I did, it happened very quickly. “Around,” he shrugs. And I giggle. What was funny, you ask? Absolutely nothing. But I’m tipsy and a little horny. “Are you drunk?” He laughs, taking my cup and sniffing it. His eyebrows raise, before he even takes a sip, let alone after. “It’s a Zachy special-” “Where’s your brother?” I hardly finish my sentence before he starts shouting his words over the loud music. “I don’t know,” my slightly drunken state is offended by his question. Maybe I’m just annoyed at myself, maybe it’s the fact that everything is about my brother, but it’s more than likely the fact that I wanna be flirted with. And he’s definitely not flirting with me. Rolling my eyes, I just turn and walk as far away as I can before stumbling and embarrassing myself completely. Completely into the arms of Montgomery De La Cruz. “Careful,” the slight giggle shocks me. It was..? Cute..? “Maybe you should sit down for a while,” I realise that I’m still in his arms, which is definitely the last place I should be, so I stand up ‘straight’. As straight and as still as I can be anyway. “It’s okay, I wanna dance!” Smiling massively towards him, I’m shocked when he actually reciprocates the happy look. He never smiles back at me. It must be pity. “You can dance sat down, I’ll come with you.”

I didn’t think I’d be spending a part of my night looking at the stars with Monty, but here we are. Well I’m sat on a sun bed, and he’s stood. The fresh air does a mix of sending the alcohol to my head, and sobering me up a little. Which makes no sense; I know. I’m just drunk. “Fuck, did I drop my drink?” Confusion hits me like a brick. So much so that I start patting my hips at the pockets I don’t have. Which also makes no fucking sense. “I took it off you- why would the cup be in your pocket?” He laughs, taking a seat on the concrete next to my lounger. “That’s cute,” as soon as the words fall out, my hand covers my mouth. “Shit, I won’t hear the end of that. Will I?” His lips press together, shaking his head slowly. “At least you’be admitted you find me cute,” I don’t even have the effort to argue. So I lay myself down.

Before I open my eyes, my head starts pounding. Unfortunately I remember quite a bit, if not all of last night. It’s effort to wake up. So I lay on my back. In a 3, 2, 1, I open my eyes to a ceiling. I might still be drunk, or my eyes aren’t working properly, but that ceiling doesn’t look like mine. “You’re awake!” A voice startles me. There stand Montgomery De La Cruz with water and a pill of some kind. “Fuck, this doesn’t look-” “I slept on the sofa,” and my heart, unfortunately, skips a beat. I lay a glance over to the chair. It’s small. “It’s comfier than it looks,” he shrugs, edging the items towards me. I don’t even know what to say. It’s... sweet? “This could literally be anything,” I squint my eyes at the drug with as much enthusiasm as I can in this state. “Don’t you trust me?” I press my lips together and screw my face up. “I do, unfortunately,” I shrug, and take the painkiller. “Good, lets get some food,” he nods his head towards the door. In my state? No. But I couldn’t turn down his offer.

“I’m curious Monty,” we walk where we can see the beach. Not on the sand, but the path very close. I’m not sure if he’s following me, or I’m following him. “Go on,” he smile, putting a chip in his mouth. Seaside chips are the best. To be honest, everything tastes better at the beach. “How did I end up in your bed?” I smile at my question. My cheeks blush slightly at the question. I must be broken. “Well you just passed out really, so I thought it was the right thing to do,” he shrugs in a very cute way? “Where’d Scott go?” As flattered as I am, Scott should’ve been there. I’m his twin sister. “He got with some slut-” I raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, he got with a blonde girl in a red skirt.” He shivers. A chuckle exits my mouth. “What’s that about?” A smile goes across his face, looking down. I’ve noticed every move he’s made since this ‘morning’. “Red’s such a slutty colour,” he says slowly. Is he weary of my reaction? “Tell me about it!” Only a moment of silence goes by. “Well, thank you,” His eyes lock with mine. “I respect that you didn’t try it on with me, because I definitely would’ve just let it happen,” without debate. Without thinking, he speaks. “I wouldn’t want it to happen like that,” my heart skips a beat. I see the instant regret in his face, but I can’t help but feel warmed by those words. Even so, he doesn’t correct himself.

I spend the rest of my day pacing my bedroom floor. Seeing as I woke up like midday, it’s not actually too long. It felt like it. An hour felt like 3. A knock goes on my door. Although I’m not doing anything, I felt suspicious. So I rush onto my bed and start reading a page of the book closest to me. ‘Twilight’. A classic. “Come in!” I shout. I expected it to be my mum, but it’s Scott. Guilt. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong. Even so, there’s still a feeling of guilt in my body. And it’s heavy. “You never knock,” I laugh nervously. “I wanted to apologise for leaving you at the party. That was a shitty brother move,” he shrugs. As much as I appreciate it, it feels weird. Does he know? I let a moment of silence go by before answering. “It’s fine, at least nothing happened,” looking back at my home screen, I hope that Scott leaves. Of course he doesn’t. He hasn’t asked the vital question. “So... where’d you crash?” Now... I could lie. I feel like I could lie easily too. Only if it’s not a trick question. What if Monty’s already told Scott? Then it’ll look like I’m covering something up. Am I? Nah. “Monty took me to his, but I swear nothing happened,” I almost rush out. Scott’s facial expression doesn’t really change, other than look slightly relieved. “Don’t worry, I trust you,” there’s a pause. “So did you, like, share a bed?” Which makes me smile massively. Only my brother would ask such an awkward question. “He actually gave me his bed, and I think he slept on a chair.” Scott looks surprised. “That chair in his bedroom?” He asks. I nod slowly. “Hmm,” and he leaves.

I spend the rest of my day rewatching Teen Wolf. Let’s not lie, it’s one of the best shows out there! So here I am, crying at how beautiful Stiles is, and my phone starts to ring. Heart: drops. It’s only Monty. For some reason I’m nervous to talk to him. So I hesitate answering the phone. Just do it Y/N! “Hey,” I clear my throat lightly. For context, Monty never calls me. Why would he? We’ve texted on and off about stupid shit. Like ‘is Scott with you’ and ‘can I copy your work’. That’s it. “Y/N, how are you?” His voice echos softly through my ear. “I’m alright, what’s up?” My hair twiddles around my forefinger. “What are you doing right now?” Other than crying at a stupid Netflix show? Other than getting nervous about you calling me? “Nothing, I think Scott’s-” “I didn’t call you to ask where Scott is,” he chuckles *cutely*. His tone made it sound like that was a strange thing to say. Like I said, he’s never really called me before. Not to actually speak to me. “So, what’s up?” I ask again. My body doesn’t seem to know what to do. I go from sitting down, to laying on my back, to my front, to pacing the floor. All over the place. “I was- uh- wondering if you could sneak out?” He whispers mischievously. Eyebrows: raised. I gasp through the phone with a smile. Tutting at him, I lose the capability to speak for a second. I clear my throat again. “Monty-” “Just for a walk.”

Walking to meet Monty was insane. I don’t even know my intentions, let alone his. But somehow it makes sense. The sky is dark, the air blows cold. My joggers keep my legs cosy. My arms, however, were unprepared. I’m not cold though. I’m nervous. The uncertainty of this whole thing is driving me insane. The craziness is eating at me. And yet I don’t know if I wanna face Monty. But I am. He’s ahead of me. My stomach just can’t keep still. Even with him standing right in front of me. Whatever happens, will happen. “I thought you were gonna stand me up, Y/N,” his smile screams nerves, which made me more nervous. A guy like Monty should never be nervous. “I was hesitant to come,” he nods slowly. “But I’m here.”

The chat was just about stupid shit, funny times, and thick with ‘beating around the bush’. I should be paying attention to where we were going. The absolutely insane thing is I trust Monty. I probably always have done. Through the teasing, and the being Scott’s twin sister, I’ve always felt somewhat comfortable. He’d even given me just hoodie to wear. I’m not sure if it’s something to read into, or it’s simply a kind gesture. “Monty... why did we just walk around for like 30 minutes just to get back to my house?” I can’t hold it back anymore. I need to know why I’m here. “Why am I walking the streets with you half 10 at night?” He avoids my eye contact. I realise that he doesn’t plan on answering me right now. I stop in my place, grabbing his hand. His skin soft and warm. I wish he wasn’t so damn hard to read. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you?” Shaking my head, I smile at the ground before locking eyes with him again. This time his eyes stay on mine. Neither of us move. “I’m confused,” a smile spreads across his face. “I’ve been confused for a while,” my eyebrows lift in curiosity. A while? Is he confused about the same shit I am? “Explain it to me.” And he just starts walking away from me.

“Monty!” I slightly jog up to him. It’s wrong of me, but I just wanted everything out on the line. I wanted it written in black and white. “It’s hard to explain the fact that I’m pretty much in love with my best friend’s sister,” my heart drops, yet it’s full at the same time. Jaw; dropped. “I- what?” My hands cover my gradually growing smile. His face stays neutral. This whole thing is just insane. “I’m sorry, but I am obsessed with everything you stand for,” and that does it. I know there is an unwritten rule about your brother’s best friend. This makes me entirely shitty. It’s nothing I ever imagined. The silence on my end makes Monty start to walk away. “You know what!” Once again I grab Monty. “Fuck it,” this time reaching for the back of his neck and pulling him close. Our lips magnetise together. Ive never felt such passion and respect from a person. The unbelievable feeling of his fingers crawling to my waist was something I realise I’ve been missing. It’s just one long kiss, and yet it’s so much more than that. Unknowing, I have been waiting for this moment for a little too long. He pulls my body as close to his as possible. I should be considering the fact that Scott could just look out his window. A thought should’ve crossed my mind that this is one of the shittiest things either of us could do. My conscience shouldn’t be clean. Right now, this is all I can think about.

I feel like I should feel guiltier than I do. I was more nervous of Scott catching me than my parents. Scott and I have always been close. We’re twins. We will always be that. But Monty and Scott? What just happened between me and Monty was risky for that. Yet I lay on my bed staring at my ceiling; I’m smiling like a fool. The clock reads 23:39. Just sleep Y/N. I just kissed Montgomery De La Cruz. A simple, but so perfect, kiss. I can’t wrap my head around it, let alone the fact that he said he’s ‘pretty much’ in love with me. Like shit. Is he gonna regret telling me that in the morning? I hope not.

- The Next Morning -

Nerves and a centimetre of guilt pumps through my veins, waking me up at exactly 06:12. I usually wake up at 07:00, so I might as well shower. I know I shouldn’t dress up just because Monty pronounced his love for me. You know I’m going to though. A touch of mascara and tinted lip balm will be subtle enough.

“You’ve gotta stop looking like that,” Scott shakes his head at me as I jog down the stairs and into the dining room. “Scott! You look beautiful sweetheart,” my mum kisses me on the cheek and hands me a plate of pancakes. I can’t even think about eating right now. “She does it just to flirt with Monty,” a metal spoon hits my back. He scoffs. “I do not!” Usually that would be true, but today it’s not. My high waisted shorts sit perfectly on my hips, and my fitted crop top hugs my breasts. I look down at my outfit. I honestly don’t even thinks it’s that bad. “It’s not my fault Monty flirts with me,” I tease Scott. Is that even a joke though? “Fuck, you wish!” “Right!” My mum shouts. Definitely at the swearing. “Just get to school!”

There’s silence in the car. Not even the radio plays a sound. This is where the guilt starts to sink in. “We’re picking Monty up, could you move to the back when we get to his?” Scott asks, cracking the first ‘smile’ towards me today. “Oh I see how it is,” I grunt jokingly, and he actually smiles. I can’t imagine what it would be like if me and Monty carried on. If anything it shows that yesterday was a mistake and can’t happen. Too much would be risked. We don’t live far from Monty, so in seconds we were outside. It hadn’t even sunk in that I have to see him today. Fuck. Slipping out the car, we lock eyes. “Good morning, Reed,” he huskily whispers. His smile captivates me, but I just have to ignore it. Just like I’m ignoring the fact that when I slid past him to get to the back seats, our bodies scraped together: I thought, stupidly enough, sitting behind Scott would mean there would be no eye contact between Monty and I. Boy was I wrong. In the corner of his eye. In the rear view mirror. It would stop if I stopped looking at him... right now that seems impossible.

“Hey Y/N,” Jess smiles at me as I walk past her locker. Strange? But I stop and turn. “Hey, how are you?” I ask, watching her grab her books. “I’m all good. I just wanted to apologise for Clay the other day. He’s just a bit-” “I deserved it, don’t even worry about it.” She presses her top and bottom lips together tightly. “Thank you though,” I open my arms to hug her, which she surprisingly accepts, until I get a tap on the shoulder. Jess releases me. When I turn and see Monty, my heart goes from zero to a hundred real fast. Imagine a boy having such a grip on you. “Monty,” my voice comes out shaky. “Jessica,” Monty nods at her, and he grunts. “I’ll see you later,” she screws her face up at him and walks away. “She’s such a bitch,” he rolls his eyes. THIS is what I don’t like about Monty. I just wish that list was longer than the stuff I do like about him. “Anyway, can we go talk somewhere?”

Panic thoughts rush through my head as I walk out the school with Monty. What if someone starts gossiping about the fact that we’ve left the school to talk? That’s so fucking stupid. Why would people do that? I’m a little nervous. I’m actually a LOT nervous. Breathe Y/N. I take a seat on the wall behind me. “I wanted to know how you’re feeling?” He simply says. I smile down to myself. “You make this so hard, why can’t you just be an asshole to me?” I let out in a whispered chuckle. “Is that what you want?” He brushes the back of his hand against my arm. “What do you want from this?” My question just makes him raise his eyebrows, as if the answer’s obvious. Does he want a fuck-buddy? Does he want a relationship? Is he just trying to fuck with my emotions? I mean, that last one’s completed with flying colours. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this Y/N, but I honestly just want you.” If anyone else said such a thing, I’d tell them to get a grip. This is Monty. Bad boy image with devilishly good looks. The boy you love to hate, and hate to love. He’s not meant to actually swoon for a girl. Is that what’s happening? Holy shit. “I don’t know if that can happen, what about Scott?” He smiles to himself. His body places itself next to me. “This has nothing to do with Scott,” he shrugs. I wish that was true. “All Scott does is warn me to stay away from you. You’re his best friend,” hand goes to my knee. My naked knee. Please move your hand a little higher; no. “I know, but he’d get over it,” I make a ‘would he really’ face at him. It’s hard to believe that. My eyes gaze away from him for a second. I look at the sky and the trees and that school building. Monty’s eyes are the last place I should look. Except my eyes drift back to his in a second. Stomach; drops. He slowly begins to move his head towards mine. I want to stop him. I want to consider the fact that anyone could see us right now. Including Scott. In all honesty, his lips aren’t moving towards mine fast enough. “Montgomery,” my whispered words stop his in his place. My forehead fall onto his. “I’d risk it, for you.”

School is always a drag, but when you’re waiting for it to end it goes 10x slower. Once again, the rest of our people had last period free. This leaves Monty and I the only ones left. I should be avoiding the boy at all costs. But my hearts flutters when I see him waiting at the school doors for me. I can’t even find words. “Hey,” Monty gives me a contained smile, as if he was holding back. I’m already blushing. “Montgomery,” I say simply. He starts moving, so my body automatically follows his lead. I honestly can’t help it. Can you blame me? Have you met the guy?! “Do you wanna walk with me?” Walk with him? Fuck yeah. But we all know what happened on that last walk of ours. For some reason that only makes me want to walk with him even more. I can’t control myself... he must have a voodoo doll or something.

As usual, our chats flow too naturally. I guess we’ve always spoken, but I never realised how well we got on until recently. Have I been hiding these feelings? It wasn’t intentional. But I should be containing my feelings now. I should cut Monty off before we hurt Scott. I wish I could. “How do you feel?” He asks again. Fuck, I wish he’d leave it alone. “That’s a loaded question Monty.” He stops in his place. A thought bubble appears above his head. It’s only for a few seconds. Then he softly takes hold of my forearm, and leads me into an alleyway. This is it. This is where he kills me. Both of his hands go to my wrists, lifting them and pushing me against the wall. This is single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. His eyes just stare back into mine. We’re so used to just staring at each other at this point. “How do you feel?” He asks again. I feel like I want his body on top of mine if we’re honest. A smug look captivates his face. Can he hear my thoughts? I gulp loudly. I think I’m about to have a heart attack. “Y/N,” he whispers deeply. “Can you just kiss me already?!”

He’s seems almost struck by my words. As if, although he wanted to hear them, he wasn’t expecting me to actually say them. His eyes scan my body intricately, up and down. I could watch him look at me all day. “Monty... did you hear what I said?” I ask. The corners of his mouth turn up before he makes a move. Finally. His lips on mine once again. I’ve been aching for this moment for at least 16 hours since the last, and first, time. Only this time it’s not just a long, still kiss. Within seconds his tongue asks for access into my mouth. The angel on my shoulder makes me hesitate. This is wrong. But it’s so fucking right. The devil, and my entire body, screams yes. His mouth; warm. The massaging sensation of his tongue sends flutters in every place possible. His hands squeeze my wrists tighter before realising them. They move to balance on the wall. Mine go to the bottom of his tee and... I realise we’re outside. In public. Where everyone and anyone can see us. I break away from his spell for a second. It’s somewhat comforting to see him breathing just as heavy as me. My right hand goes to his chest. “Fuck...” I whisper. I lean my head on the front of his shoulder. In the most adorable way, he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. He can definitely do that more often. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” He asks. What a stupid fucking question.

Luckily we were only seconds away from Monty’s place. I felt giggly the whole 3-5 minutes. It’s like I was in a trance. I heard Monty say that he dad was at work, and honestly it’s all I needed to hear. I could think about guilt, l right now, or anything other than the fact that I’ve never needed or wanted something so much in my life. So he unlocks the door. Before we can even get in the building, I turn Monty towards me and jump. My legs wrap around his waist tightly as I latch my lips onto his. This time there was nothing stopping us. Slam goes the door behind us. The wetness between my legs only grows as Monty’s hands cup my ass cheeks. Squeezing slightly, I let a small, breathy moan enter his mouth. He grunts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters between our lips. It’s almost like he stepped foot on the gas. I’m not sure how, but Monty walks us up the stairs whilst we make out, all the way up to his bedroom. Maybe I should be wondering how he’s so good at this. I couldn’t care less.

My back bounces onto the bed. Our lips stay apart for only a second before his body is above mine. Hands smooth up and down from my hips to my waist. His fingers crawl to the buttons of my shorts. He stops. “Is this okay?” He asks. This is the moment. I know, just by that statement alone, that Monty is worth it. It confirms it all for me. My hands cover my mouth in awe. “I fucking love that,” I pretty much squeal. “Monty,” I speak, holding his head between my hands. “This is more than okay, I need you.” His lips attach back onto mine, and he starts undoing my shorts. I wiggle and lift my body to make it go faster, but they just don’t come off fast enough. All I keep imagining is that this is a dream. This is too crazy to be actually happening.

Just as Monty’s lips go to my neck, I hear a buzz. Is that my alarm? No. So this must be real. It is, however, Monty’s phone ringing. Monty pulls himself off of me. I reach over, pick up his phone, and see ‘Scotty’ written across the top. 1. Cute. 2. Fuck. “Imma just ignore it,” he smirks, rubbing his body back against mine. I don’t know what comes over me, but I find the strength and confidence to flip us over. I smile massively at what I’ve just accomplished. Here I am, straddling Montgomery De La Cruz. Does it get any better? His eyes look shocked. “That’s so fucking hot,” he lifts his head to lock our lips. “Shut up,” I whisper against his lips. I slide my tongue between his lips and... a phone rings. “Fuck,” I grunt frustratedly. ‘Scott’ comes across my phone this time. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to answer it,” I speak in a panic. “It’s fine just ignore him,” he reaches to grab my phone. My hand moves slowly away, making his eyes roll. “He could put 2 and 2 together and make 4,” I say simply. Shit. Act natural. “Hey Scott,” the key is to not overthink this. I won’t think about the fact that I’m in a thong straddling him best friend. Or that Monty’s fingers are tracing pattens on my ass cheeks. “Hey, have you seen Monty?” Of course. What other question would he ask? ‘I have actually. He’s currently between my legs. I could pass you on?’ But no. “No I haven’t, what’s up?” I hear a sigh through the phone. Okay Scott, just hang up now. “Bryce is looking for him. Where are you?” I put a bit of pressure on Monty’s chest with my hand, as I sign to stop, but he does not. Instead he squeezes my buttcheeks ever so slightly. This sends a rush of pleasure through my body, and a HEAVY breath out my mouth. “It sounds dodgy your end Y/N,” he laughs. I can hear the nerves in his voice. I know he’s thinking the worst, and it’s actually a reality right now. “I’m just working out.” In my head I can see Scott shake his head at my response. You’d think, as a jock, he’d understand the grind of working out and keeping fit. But no, Scott is naturally built like an athlete. “Well, enjoy that shit I guess?” His voice is uncertain. “If you do see Monty, tell him to come to the house! Bye,” before I can respond, he hangs up. I think I did it.

I let out a deep breath of relief. “Scott said that if I see you I should tell you to go to our house,” Monty pretends to throw me off him, but instead he flips us back over. “You can go if you’d like,” I mutter, slowly sticking out my bottom lip. I’m lying. My legs tighten around his body. His eyes widen. “I think I’m gonna stay with you,” he smiles, planting his lips back onto mine. He continues to kiss down my neck, just like he was before we were interrupted. “Montgomery,” I’m not sure if I regret stopping him. Theres just one thing I need more than this foreplay right now. Eyes: locked together. Fuck. He makes me nervous. I feel like it’s my first time all over again. “Can you just, like, fuck me now?” I giggle. I hardly finished my sentence before he pulls himself off me to go into a drawer. A condom. To get comfy, I move myself to his pillows. To think, a couple of days ago I woke up in this room panicking because I thought I slept with Monty. Now I’m about to.

He rummages the condom on in seconds. I’ll worry about the fact that he’s clearly very experienced later. “Is this good?” He asks. I could make a silly joke about how ‘he hasn’t started yet’. But I know exactly what he means. And it’s so fucking cute. My hands reach for the back of his head, pulling his lips onto mine for just a peck. “This is perfect.” Eyes are locked together, he leans down and rubs his nose on mine. The palpating going through my body is concerning. And somehow, just when he starts entering, it feels real. This only probably ever crossed my mind once. I steady my breathing as he pushes himself further inside me. Not a virgin, but definitely not a slut. In my opinion anyway. He notices me trying to get comfortable and plants his lips on mine for one long kiss. Humming vibrates from his lips onto mine. I want this moment to last forever.

Breath. Monty stays still for just a second, and pulls his lips away from mine. His right hand sweeps a strand of my hair out of my face. I reach my right hand up to his face, caressing his cheek and smoothing my thumb against his bottom lip. “You are,” pause, “so beautiful,” he says boldly. It wasn’t whispered. It wasn’t a question. I could hear he meant it. Montgomery De La Cruz thinks I’m beautiful. Without warning, he starts to pull out. My mouth gapes more and more. You know that point where you’re on a rollercoaster and you’re waiting for the drop... that was the anticipation for Monty to start thrusting. I’m a mess underneath him. When he does start, I feel myself coming apart at the seams already. His lips go back to mine, my arms stretch around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues dance around. This was a ‘finally’ moment. The steadiness of the thrusts was perfection. It wasn’t rough, but it was nowhere near slow. And gentle. Everything about this boy was gentle. I don’t know if anyone has ever seen this soft Monty. I want this Monty all to myself. And right now, he’s mine. I wanted, and I needed, him as close as I could. My legs probably couldn’t wrap around his waist any tighter.

My entire being wanted to hold on for as long as I could, but this boy has some serious tricks. I feel like I’m quite stubborn so I could hold off. Monty’s right hand smooths down my hip, down my thigh, and hooks under my knee. As he lifted my leg slight higher, I knew I couldn’t hold on. “Fuck,” I pretty much squeal into his mouth as he reaches my g-spot. My abdomen bursts with excitement. My eyes glance at him biting his bottom lip very discreetly. His lips move from my lips to the side of my neck. I close my eyes for a second to just soak this moment in. I never thought I needed to feel this close to Monty. The pace increases by 2x at least, and a long lost knot begins to form in my stomach. It’s as if my body can sense the boy’s need to release. I think we’ve both been waiting for this moment for a little longer than we think we have. “Please tell me your close,” his husky voice tingles my neck. “Oh my god!” I moan loudly as my climax... finally. Connected. We continue to ride out each other’s highs. Wow.

My head lays against Monty’s chest. I know this can’t last forever. At some point I have to go home. When my heart stops racing, I sit up. “Do you regret it?” Is the first thing Monty asks. I smile to myself slightly. I shake my head slowly. “I kinda wish I did,” I shrug and turn my body towards him and cross my legs. “What do we do now?” I ask with a nervous giggle. He just stares at me. I’ve never been looked at like that before. “Scott’s gonna have to get over it. You’re too beautiful to keep it a secret,” cheesy, but fucking cuuuute. “Shut up. You’ll start making me believe it in a minute,” I push his chest lightly. Monty takes my hand and pulls me close to him. “You’re beautiful Y/N.” It’s hard to make jokes when the most handsome person is staring you dead in the eyes. My cheeks heat too quickly. “So, I heard you kinda like your best friends sister... how’s that working out for you?” I whisper. He opens his mouth, smiling massively for a second. “I actually say that I’m in love with my best friend’s sister. You should get your facts right.” A grin bigger than my head itself forms. “Wow, sassy Monty’s got,” I tease. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” I open my mouth to respond, but no words seems to form. I gobsmacked. Most of the times when I say I’m speechless, I’ve still got shit to say. I don’t know what to say to that. “Fuck, Monty,” I whisper. I nudge my nose against his chin. “If it turns out it’s because I look a little like Scotty, I’m gonna be pissed,” I laugh. Once again, Monty flips us over and puts his body between my legs. He put his tongue between his lips, licking them very sexily I might add. “That’s just a bonus,” my mouth drops open before pulling Monty’s lips down onto mine once again.

[softbiker]

A Familiar Place - Part 2

Warnings: a bad word or two, literally zero editing 

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Not sure if I’m satisfied with this, but posting to celebrate hitting 200 followers!! Thanks for being here, I love you all! As always, let me know what you think :) 

This is not an “x Reader” or romance story.

“Okay, I’m 100% sure it’s not supposed to look like that.”

“Shut up, bird brain.”

“Will you two stop it I can’t hear the instructor.”

Three soldiers exchange glares behind their easels, brushes poised over canvas. Their stools are set in the back of the class, clustered close together so they can peek over each others shoulders. Other easels are arranged  in semi-circle rows towards the front of the classroom, with the instructor at the epicenter, walking back and forth and making comments to the students. To her credit, she tries to ignore the fussing commentary from the back of the room, only sparing them a glance every once in a while.

An oil painting class. Painting was never Steve’s strong suit - he prefers pencils and charcoal, quick messy sketches under his flurried fingers, captured on the spur of the moment. Bucky faintly remembers a smaller, softer Steve, the graphite on his hands, the smudges that covered his nose. Pencil fixed behind his ear, where Bucky would have placed a cigarette. But when they came here, settled into their place in Bed-Stuy, Steve decided to try out something new. And today he invited Sam and Bucky to join him.

Steve takes easily to new mediums, whatever his protests about not being a “natural” painter. Sam has no idea what he’s doing, but Bucky knows that has never stopped him from having a good time.

Bucky, though.

Bucky feels nervous each time he dips his brush, blends his paints. He feels somehow wasteful, putting his own brush to the canvas. Hand him a knife, a gun, hell - even one of Stark’s high-tech weapons, and he’s steady. A deadshot. But a paintbrush? He doubts every stroke and line. Without a talent like Steve’s, he thinks, this canvas would be better off with someone else.

But Steve is having a good time and he hates to ruin that, so Bucky quietly frowns at his canvas, tongue poking between his lips. Today’s class is a still life, their reference a pale blue vase of flowers on a table in the center of the room. Steve has rendered it beautifully, even captured the soft lighting from the windows on the west wall of the room. Sam’s attempt is passable, for someone with no training at all in studio art.

It isn’t that Bucky doesn’t have some skill, or proficiency, or artistic eye. He remembers sitting through a couple of figure drawing classes with Steve - he managed to learn a thing or two, when he wasn’t winking at the models. And his work isn’t bad, he knows that, but -

Well. He doesn’t think it’s worth making.

**********

He keeps coming to the class for a few weeks, when Steve’s schedule is free from missions and meetings, of course. They sit near the back of the room and Bucky makes good attempts but he’s not really sure if he’s making art.

“You know, I’m really not sure if oils are your medium.”

The class is over, and the instructor stands at Bucky’s elbow, looking at the row of paintings laid along the shelf to dry. Bucky had been comparing his work to his classmates, thinking pretty much the same thing.

“Not that you don’t have a hand for painting,” the instructor continues, hands slipping into the pockets of her overalls. “But I think you’re letting it intimidate you - you put too much pressure on yourself and then you hesitate. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky shrugs. “I guess.” The instructor laughed a little, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“See? You hesitated to tell me that you hesitate.” She was shaking her head with a not unkind smile.

“Jeez - you have a side gig as a therapist?”

“Nope - just good at seeing people.”

Bucky shifted his feet, not used to the feeling of being closely observed - it definitely wasn’t something he liked. Seeming to sense this, the instructor took a step back, shrugging her shoulders and looking away from him.

“Look, you should keep coming,” she offered. “You have some talent, that’s for sure. But you can try other things. Doesn’t have to be oil paint and flowers. What do you want to make?”

Steve is waiting outside the classroom, reading the bulletin board in the hallway. Fluorescent-colored flyers litter the board, interspersed with lost pet ads, ride shares, roommate offers, and piano lessons. Steve fingers one, tears off the number for an Asian cooking class, and tucks the slip of paper in his jacket pocket. He turns when he hears Bucky’s footsteps, that classic smile curling up his mouth.

“You, ready?”

“Yep.”

They take the subway back, dutifully ignoring the raised eyebrows and cell phones that turn their way. It’s New York - sooner or later people get over it. Bucky’s metal hand is wrapped loosely around a pole that Steve leans against, supersoldier strength and balance making him barely shift as the train speeds and slows.

“Sam is supposed to get back from that recon op this afternoon,” Steve says, his voice low enough keep their conversation private. “He’ll probably want takeout for dinner.”

Bucky nods. “He always does, after a mission. Milks it for all he’s worth, so we have to get his favorite - I bet he’ll want fried rice from that Thai place, and we better make sure there’s cold beer in the fridge.”

Steve just smiles, glances down at his sneakers, shifts his feet a little. He’ll never say a word, a single goddamn word, about how much Bucky and Sam pay attention to each other. About Bucky remembering Sam’s takeout order from every single one of their usual places; about Sam bringing home new exotic fruits from the health food market so Bucky could try things that weren’t available back in the day. He will never breathe a single word about how Bucky took Sam’s laundry and scrubbed the blood out after that mission in Denver went bad, or Sam driving back and forth to Bucky’s therapy appointments, in spite of the distance.

Loose lips, Rogers. Nope. His are sealed.

**********

“If I didn’t know any better, I would honest to God think that Stark didn’t respect me,” Sam shakes his head, shovelling rounded lumps of rice into his mouth with his chopsticks. His cheeks are comically full, but he continues to talk. “I mean, the guy really asked if I needed air support. Me? Baby, I am air support.”

Steve makes a noise of assent around a mouthful of noodles that he continues to slurp into his mouth. Bucky says nothing, but smiles into his egg roll. The coffee table in front of them is littered with takeout boxes, some still full, some already emptied. Steve and Bucky have already finished 2 beers each - Sam is drinking at a slower pace so he can continue to talk.

“I fucking invented air support. Pssh.” Sam rolls his eyes, settling back against the cushions of the couch and pulling his standard blanket over his lap.

The TV is set to a sports channel, a college basketball game they’re not too invested in carrying on in the background. Sam talks and talks, the other two barely getting a word in, but that’s alright - he always needs this, after a mission. Sam has to get it all out, decompress, debrief, de-everything in that post-victory rush of adrenaline he’s still high on when he comes home. They let him - they sit around in their sweatpants and half-watch a ballgame and shoot the shit over beers and Thai, and let Sam come back to himself.

“So,” Sam sighs, sipping his beer. “What’d you old farts get up to while I was gone, huh?”

“Mm, not much.” Steve’s reply is muffled as he continues to inhale his noodles. “Art class. Running.”

“Getting some goddamn peace and quiet,” Bucky pipes up, crumpling up the now empty egg roll bag and reaching for a full styrofoam container of steaming fried rice.

“Ha ha.” Sam doesn’t even look up from his food. “Y’all know it’s boring as hell around here without me. And who else is gonna help you two to meet some females? Hm? You think people are lining up to wingman for your hundred-year-old asses? No way!”

“What would we do without you, Sam?” Steve asks, that ironic twist to his mouth that Bucky has known all his life.

“You’d be star-spangled roadkill, I can tell you that much.”

They laugh and settle, eyes passing over the ballgame as one of the teams lines up for a free throw. It’s just the three of them in their little place, but it feels full. It’s enough. It’s home.

**********

Over the next few weeks, Bucky takes the painting instructor’s advice.

He rolls out huge canvases on the floor and slings paint in random patterns, layers of splatter until he feels like his eyes have crossed. The freedom, the lack of pressure, the fun of throwing paint around like a child - all of that he likes, but still.

“Still not sure if it’s my thing,” he tells Steve, as they look at his finished piece propped up against the wall. Steve nods, lips pursed.

“Well, we could hang it up at the compound. Tony keeps talking about needing more art around that place.”

Bucky just rolls his eyes.

“I’m not five, Steve. You don’t have to hang my scribbles on the fridge.”

He goes back to the studio and slings pots - pots and vases and key bowls and jewelry dishes and mugs. They’re passable, usable, functional - these are the words he thinks of when he glazes them in soft blue and yellow shades. Bucky likes the feel of it under his fingers, the wet firmness of the clay that yields to his hands. He’s gotten little bits of dried clay between the metal plates of his arm, but he doesn’t mind - he’s learned they’re easy enough to dislodge with a toothbrush. He gives away or takes home all of his little projects, happy to see them used.

Sam gifts him with a polaroid camera he found going through some of his parents things, and Bucky fiddles with it until he’s quite good at taking pictures. Whenever they go out he has his camera slung around his neck, an extra packet of film and a flashbar in his backpack. He has dozens of photos now - photos of Steve sipping coffee and flipping off the camera. Photos of Sam and Rhodey laughing, in full gear, when the team had drinks at the compound last month. A few photos of Natasha and Wanda, who come over to the brownstone sometimes - Natasha’s legs are folded over the end of the couch, while Wanda gets a piggyback ride from Steve. He tacks the pictures up, covering nearly half of the wall of his bedroom, not caring about the holes he leaves in the drywall.

It’s Wanda who introduces him to knitting, one weekend when both Steve and Sam get called out on a potential terror situation in London. There’s a rule - unspoken, unwritten - among Steve’s friends that someone comes to check on Bucky whenever they have to leave him alone. He doesn’t protest, knowing that they do it out of kindness and loyalty to Steve; he knows all about being loyal to Steve.

Wanda sits cross-legged on the couch, her fingers working the knitting needles at a hypnotic pace. He likes Wanda; she’s quiet and sensitive, all soft smiles and knowing eyes. A room always feels calmer with her in it. She had used his hands earlier to loop the yarn, and now he watches her over the top of his book, which he has all but abandoned.

When he asks her about the knitting, if she can show him, she looks up. Soft smiles and knowing eyes.

Bucky has always been good with his hands, so no one is surprised that he’s good at knitting. Eventually, they all have something he’s made: a beanie for Sam, a scarf for Steve, fingerless gloves for Wanda, and blankets galore for their too-cold brownstone.

**********

It fills up his time, somehow.

Bucky makes drawings, and paintings, and little origami birds out of grocery receipts. He makes bowls he can give to his friends and pictures that he can keep and blankets that he can share. He scours google and breaks a few (literal) eggs and makes banana bread that fills the brownstone with a smell that he could float on. He makes pancakes and poems and -

Bucky makes.

On the subway with Steve - a figure drawing class tonight - Bucky is staring at his hands. Ungloved metal and soft scarred flesh. His hands are tools, they’re instruments. They can be molds or looms or brushes or chisels.

“Weapons” doesn’t even enter his mind at all.

Tags:

@vacant-writings

@bitsandbobsandstuff

[shijiujun]

History3 ep 13 summary - TUGS AT UR HEARTSTRINGS BUT it’s a good episode

I’m soooo tired but the energy has come again because of Trapped HAHAHAHA the thought of BIRTHDAY SCENE gives me strength to go on praying there is NO JAM on the live stream today we’ll see

OMG what the hell we don’t get a bed scene so the two bed scenes that the writers were talking about WE WILL GET THEM SOMETIME LATER it might be after birthday scene now that I think about it but also guys I think you’ll like this episode because the PLOT MOVES and there’s plot development thank god and we actually delve into serious stuff - the dilemma of Tang Yi as a mob boss and Shao Fei as a police officer finally comes into play here

Shao Fei runs off after Tang Yi kisses his wound (DAMN HE PRESSED HIS MOUTH TO THE WOUND FOR SO DAMN LONG?!) and asks if it still hurts and Tang Yi just laughs and says ‘he’s still too soft’ AND SHAO FEI IS LITERALLY HYPERVENTILATING IN THE TOILET THEN WE GET DOMESTIC SCENE - Tang Yi cooking in the kitchen for Shao Fei WITH AN APRON ON and Shao Fei is all: “it smells so good! is this the spicy dish we had with coke the other time?”

and wow BEST HUSBAND IN THE WORLD JUST SMILES AND GOES: “you can’t have spicy food or coke while you’re recovering”

shao fei: *pouts* “you’re so stingy, controlling this and that”

DOMESTIC HUSBANDS THEY ARE RIGHT HERE GUYS!!!!!

so they sit down and cute shao fei takes a bit of the dish and puts it on tang yi’s rice first before eating himself (i LURVE THIS) - and tang yi obviously is kind of amused and touched that shao fei did that, and as they’re about to eat that’s when tang yi broaches the topic of shao fei staying at the police station because it’s safer for him there, and obviously shao fei is all ‘WHY?!’ and demands to know a reason and i thought they were gonna start fighting but thank god they’re both soft smol bbs so they just look at each other waiting for the other person to say something, and tang yi goes: “i’ll tell you, but you must promise to stay out of it. if you can’t promise me that, i won’t tell you”

so shao fei obviously agrees and tang yi starts the flashback by saying: “do you know what it’s like to grow up in a place where no one cares about and loves you? that’s the kind of place i grew up in”

AND YES HERE WE GET TANG YI AND BOSS TANG AND HONG YE BACKSTORY (still waiting for Shao fei’s COME ON) - This entire like flashback tugged at my heartstrings guys TUGGED AT MY HEARTSTRINGS I almost cried?!!! - So young Tang Yi was adopted by adoptive parents because the mom wanted to adopt him but the mom died, so the dad was never supportive of his wife adopting tang Yi and when she died he became neglectful and abusive

We start off with young Tang Yi going home and it’s his birthday but obviously the terrible dad doesn’t notice, but Tang Yi goes to his room and eats food and is about to eat cake in front of the photo of him and his mom - the dad comes into the room and he yells at tang yi for going into his room to steal the photo of him and his mom - tang yi says that it’s not his, it’s a photo of him and his mom

and the dad goes: “she’s not your mom and i’m not your dad!”

tang yi doesn’t get why he can’t have the photo and snarks back and the dad slaps him, and says a bunch of other stupid shit, so tang yi leaves home with literally just the clothes on his back and the backpack (can’t rmb if he took the photo or not) - and this scene was truly realistic, i felt that slap and everything so kudos to the actors playing young tang yi and the dad?!

then next scene: we see a super skinny hong ye fighting with a bunch of older male teens over the bicycle they stole, and tang yi is somehow there as well, and they end up fighting with the older teens - long story short, boss tang (tang guo dong) passes by with a SUPER YOUNG LOOKING DAO YI OMG?! and they help tang yi and hong ye out - boss tang tells them to hurry and go home, and hong ye just simply says: “i don’t have a home”

boss tang stares at them for a while, and although tang yi doesn’t say a thing you can tell by his clothes and dirty face that obviously he has been on the streets for a while as well? so boss tang is all: “you guys hungry? want to eat some food?”

tang yi, the cautious, smart boy who knows that most strangers are up to no good, says no, while hong ye who really is hungry, says yes

anw in the next scene boss tang and tang yi are eating at the table alone - although tang yi isn’t eating (and boss tang mentions that hong ye has already eaten three bowls of rice), so boss tang leaves tang yi to eat by himself and give him some space while he goes check on hong ye to see whether she’s gone for a shower yet 

a year or less later, we see tang yi coming home to the house, and boss tang is cooking dinner - it looks fucking delicious btw and i haven’t eaten dinner so jfc i really wanted to reach into the screens for those golden fried mantous (buns) - anw, tang yi is holding onto a little box that is definitely a cake for his birthday and boss tang tells him that dinner is ready so he can come down after he’s put away his stuff - much later, the sky is dark and they’re eating already and BOSS TANG says there’s one more dish and then switches off all the lights, much to tang yi’s confusion

then boss tang comes out with a cake!!!! omg sweetest thing ever - after that they sit at the couch and make playdoh or clay figurines of ‘old tang’ and ‘little tang’ - it’s the cutest shit i’ve ever seen

so while tang yi is reminiscing all of this, he says: “boss tang gave me my first home, my first birthday etc. etc.” - basically boss tang gave him the home he never had, and then he says to shao fei: “but on that day four years ago, i watched him bleed to death in front of me - can you imagine in that moment i lost everything, and my life was ruined? do you think i can let the person who did this go?”

shao fei: “so that’s why you said you didn’t know anything, because you were waiting to take revenge yourself”

then: “tang yi, the best punishment for that person is to get justice under the law”

and of course tang yi insists that he will never ever give this person to the police, he WILL take revenge by his own hands - and shao fei dishes out what probably is the most realistic line in this entire damn show (and one that i think we’ve all been waiting for): “but tang yi, you know that if you take revenge on your own, as a police officer, i will have to catch you?”

and OMG THE HEARTBREAK BETWEEN THEM BOTH!!!! tang yi’s eyes are already watery and he just says: “you do what you need to do. i do what i need to do”

GOSH COULD THEY BE ANYMORE HEARTBREAKING LIKE WE BARELY JUST GOT THE HAPPY PARTS TWO EPISODES AGO?!! (and though i say that i think this episode was about time, because we really needed to move on the plot!!!!)

the next scene we get zhao zi asking online on a forum “what to do when a guy confesses to another guy” AND OMFG THIS IS HILARIOUS he gets the following responses:

“welcome to a whole new world”

“rmb to prepare some VASELINE”

#gaypanic!!!!!

LIKE WOW chinese netizens, you guys are real damn helpful?!!!! HAHAHAHHAA anw i totally died at the vaseline part and the funniest thing was zhao zi, at work, was READING THE RESPONSES OUT ALOUD like did you want the entire police station to know that jack, a well-known gangster and criminal, wants to bang you? and then yu qi who sits next to him (she’s recovered at least on the surface and moving on with her life ATTA GIRL YOU GO!!!) gives him the WHAT THE FUCK look at the things he’s saying - then zhao zi goes to shao fei and asks him the same thing, but shao fei was the one who confessed in this case, and zhao zi just shook his head and goes: “irrelevant, totally irrelevant”

then we move to tang yi’s house!!! omgggg TANG YI LOOKS DAMN FINE WITH THOSE EARRINGS AND THAT WHITE TURTLENECK i would like to thank the wardrobe in charge for picking out tang yi’s HELLA FINE CLOTHES

anw, hong ye and dao yi are there to discuss work, and she’s obviously still mad at dao yi, and tang yi then peruses some files on the project they’re on and picks a company - hong ye is like: “are you sure? they’ve only been around for 5 years”

and tang yi goes on and on about how he thinks the founder of the company is a good and capable person, and that hong ye should meet him because for work, and also secondly, because the founder actually told tang yi that he kind of liked hong ye at a party previously (so anw this founder is the guy we saw in the previews) - and then obviously dao yi is not happy about it and tells tang yi not to do that, but tang yi reminds him that: “if you keep on regretting, you’re going to miss her and you will miss this chance forever”

ah de turns up then and tells tang yi that chen wen hao has invited him for tea next week and tang yi says: “i’ll be there” - ah de tries to discourage him from gg but we all know that tang yi is doesn’t usually listen to ah de so he ignores him

the next scene: tang yi opens the box and we see the birthday hat from his first birthday with boss tang and the clay house he made when he was younger that represented the home that boss tang gave him, and he says to himself: “a year has passed again, happy birthday (to himself)”

AND YES LI ZHEN JIE AND BOSS TANG HAVE THE SAME EXACT BOX THAT THEY GAVE TO SHAO FEI AND TANG YI SO THEY ARE DEFINITELY CONNECTED AND EVERYTHING I really can’t wait to see how it all plays out!!! 

anw we’ll get all the crazy scenes like the drugging part and the knifing parts PLUS BIRTHDAY SCENE TOMORROW - everything exciting is only happening tmr so let’s all prepare for death tomorrow friends!!! i’m just glad they’re moving things along but i’ve really got no idea how they’re gonna squeeze:

1. dao yi and hong ye

2. jack and zhao zi

3. tang yi and shao fei being happy and all and omelette scene and DOMESTIC HUSBANDS 

4. slightly more backstory to reveal the incident four years ago

5. tang guo dong + li zhen storyline briefly at least

6. li zhen and shao fei relationship 

... all in the next 7 episodes, which is like about 3 hours worth of screen time, i really got no idea

i really liked this episode though! really liked that we saw young tang yi and younger boss tang!!! <3

[chesirehn]

Rayas de Tigre

Tony Padilla x Clay Jensen

Words: 1,845 or something lol

A/N: I know I´m not the greatest writer but I needed to do this :)

…

Clay has observed that there is a really scary beast crawling in the well-formed body of his dear friend –Skye has told him more than once that it is pretty normal if you live in the kind of place that the latino boy does, however the light eyed boy knows that there is something underneath-. (Maybe is his anxiety talking but Clay can’t control the overwhelming feeling of worry that pokes his ribs every single time he sees Tony absentmindedly rubbing his side.)

The thing that has been bothering him was the tanned skin of the mustang boy. His skin is smooth in almost every single place, yet, at the bottom of his back, there are some rough edges where his scars lay. And Clay has always wanted to touch them. (Always as in “a month ago”)

Not in a sexual or romantic way, of course not. They had been friends since forever, or what Clay thought it was forever.

He just simply felt like tracing those rough lines and pressing hard the tips of his fingers to make them go away, nothing else.

At first it wasn’t so hard to bear, he was too occupied by Hannah and her tapes to take notice or care about those evident marks, however when he finally snapped out of the horrific tapes, the knot in his throat unconsciously tightened whenever he had the chance to gaze at the back of his mate. (Brad noticed how Clay gulped and stood as far from the latino as he could manage after a few days, fortunately he had the decency to question what was wrong before punching him in a “brotherly” way on the left arm and “calming” him saying he had Tony protected from everything. That didn’t help.)

Clay wanted to offer him comfort like he didn’t do with Hannah –Skye insisted that he was having a hero complex-, even when he knew his faded marks weren’t the type of scars that leave a depressing memory... That they were brave edges that stood still in his skin, like tiger stripes.

Nevertheless, one day he asked, too tempted to stop the tingle in the pit of his stomach and wanting to help himself by hearing the own badass words of the Padilla. It was one September afternoon, three months after the tapes were released from his grip. When they were sitting in his bedroom, one at either side of the four small walls of Clays room.

"Tony. Can I see them?" He simply spluttered. And Tony, who merely blinked in astonishment, raised a confused eyebrow seconds later.

"See what?" Something about the confusion on Tony’s face seemed to cause amusement in Clay’s chest, probably because for the first time in his life, he wasn’t the one being lost in a conversation with him.

"The scars." Clay didn’t know for sure why he was so desperate of seeing them, but he was, so the pale boy didn’t back away. No matter how awkward he would make the situation. “Can I see them?” He asked again, cocking his head a tiny bit to the side, like a pleading puppy.

Tony kept gazing at him, searching for something that could tell him the true intentions his friend was silently hiding away from him. However, when he didn’t find anything to prove he was making a mistake by being so open with the light eyed bloke, and was only capable of seeing a big wave of stormy concern, he nodded.

The latino with tanned skin stood up, getting rid of his black jacket in a quick move. Then, with another encouraging look from Clay, Tony decided it was okay to lift up his cotton black shirt and throw it to the floor next to his feet.

“So…now…now what?” The smaller of the two asked stammering, waiting for another petition. Raising his eyes to meet the blue-ish pupils of the anxious guy in front of him.

“You have more?”

“I have a big one on the back of…my right knee too…” He muttered a little unsure of what was he exactly doing stripping his clothes off in front of his best friend, but not finding any reasonable reason to back away he stood there, merely frowning. Because, after all, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, the person who was staring at him so openly was Clay. He was just following the instructions of the other bloke. “You want to…Umm?”

“Yeah.” Tony soundly swallowed when Clay choked out in an almost excited sigh. And thanks to that soundless intake of breathe coming from a quite handsome bloke, Tony tried to remember all the bad things he had done in his life at the same moment he desperately told himself that the thing he was doing wasn’t entirely okay but couldn’t insult his relationship with Brad in any possible way. Because, again, Clay was the one instructing him.

Tony kicked his boots to the right, not caring about doing it properly. “Wait a minute, man.” Seconds later, his fingers traced the edges of the tight black jeans he was wearing before forcing the button and zipper out of his way. Without gazing up, his hands worked clumsily to finally get his jeans on the floor of Clay’s bedroom. He knew Clay wasn´t contemplating doing anything disturbing to his body and even knowing, he felt the skin of his neck and cheeks heating up. Why was he getting so worked up? It wasn’t like him to get flustered. Yet again, Clay has always been an exception. “What do you wanted to see, Clay?”

Searching for a hint of amusement in the lack of expression of his pale friend, Tony raised his arms at the sides with a smirk. That only managed to let him freely feel the penetrating blue gaze of his friend roaming around his almost completely naked body in a desperate try of finding something. His heart was pumping too hard inside his chest, so Tony opted to observe the nice ceiling of Clay’s house. (In an uncomfortable attempt of not getting hard, as in…hard.)

And it worked for about three minutes, till he felt soft cool fingers sliding trough his spine. He succeeded to stay in place without jumping away like a scared cat for more than he expected to.

“Humm, Clay, personal space?” He muttered in a soft voice, one that couldn’t really sound threatening in any possible way. Tony was a softy when it came to Clay. He groaned silently, rolling his eyes to himself. “I mean…The one on my shoulder still stings so…don’t be too harsh… you hear me?” Then two pair on fingers pressed the same point he told him not to and Tony scrunched up his nose, why couldn’t he never listen to him?

“Hey, it hurts!” He gasped the moment Clay pushed even more. “Are you a sadistic moron or what?!” Before he had the chance to turn around poke his fool on the stomach for being a brat, strong warm arms closed around his neck and a tender cheek got pressed to the right side of his head.

Clay inhaled sharply, letting the manly aroma of his friend embrace him with calm. “I needed to see them, Tony.” He finally muttered with a terse stern voice that shamelessly showed Tony how much he cared.

Making sure he would remember the warm breathes of Clay brushing his jaw, Tony closed his eyes with an egoistic smile, he was so happy and yet so guilty about being approached in such a gentle way. “And?”

“They are tiger stripes, Tony.” A muffled sob made the latino guy shiver in horror and instinctively curl his back so he could touch the more of Clay´s body, to comfort without requiring to get out of his embrace. “Tiger stripes.” He repeated with a louder cry, closing his fists and letting the tanned boy how the knuckles of his Clay turned a lighter tone. If he continued doing it, Clay was going to make his tender hands bleed, Tony couldn’t afford seeing him like that.

“Yeah Clay, they are tiger stripes…” His hands covered the ones of his friend, caressing de top of them to make them less tense and when it seemed to not work, Tony put his rough lips on his wrist. “Stop hurting yourself.”

“They are tiger stripes, I promise. None of them are like Sky´s or Hannah´s…” He finally got to turn around when the desperation of taking his lanky friend into his arm got the best of him. Tony secured the waist of the crying boy and let Clay´s face hide in the crook of his neck. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“Now look at me, Clay.” With another sob, the pale bloke with bright blue teary eyes stared right at him.

“Skye said it too, but I can’t…Skye once did that witchcraft thing and read that you were hurt…And I’m a skeptic but…but…It´s you…”

“Maldita bruja…” Tony said harshly in Spanish raising an eyebrow, not getting why the witch would comment in a personal theme. They were tiger stripes after he decided they weren’t there because he was a coward who couldn’t do more than hurting others but because he was alive to protect his family…His family and Clay. “Hablare más tarde con ella, no tienes por qué preocuparte, Clay.”

“Tony, I don’t know what the hell are you saying…” He chuckled with glistening tears streaming down to his neck while he watched Tony with a hint of amusement. Clay didn’t know how, but his latino… friend…always knew how to make him feel better, even when he wasn’t trying to.

“I’m saying I’m gonna burn the witch but first I’m gonna...” Tony stated roughly, nevertheless the tone went softer till it turned into silence.

“What are you going to do?” Innocent Clay smiled up to his friend, moving his big hands to the back of the tanned boy. The caramel colored skin of Tony felt too great in his hands to let go in any near moment.

“Want me to show you?” Tony flirted cheekily, not minding being almost naked, not minding how quickly Clay recovered thanks to him and only thinking how pretty those pouty pink lips soaked in salty tears called him, begged for him.

“T-That…Yeah…”

“Then get closer, you idiot, and don’t start with your height jokes.”

“Height jokes? Since when I have joked about your tiny self?” He muttered with a grin plastered on his boyish face. Tony snorted loudly. “Yet I believe I have an idea of what do you want to do…”

Awkward Clay stumbled to the front a little, getting his face as near as he could to Tony´s. “Do you? Really?” With false surprise, Tony pecked his lips quickly. “Bueno, yo quiero hacer más que besarte pero supongo que tendré que conformarme, ¿o no?” (Well, I want to do more than kissing you, but I suppose I will conform with this, or not?) Tony told the confused Clay sheepishly.

“Seriously, you need to teach me some Spanish I feel lost every time you talk in that manly tone with marked r´s”