#and that jerk happened to chime in exactly as I finished the cycle of the grand piano

[mel-addams]

[Video ID: a recording from the game Redfall, of the character Devinder playing a number of short, skillful melodies on a grand piano. As he wraps up the last one, the Hollow Man speaks from a distant TV or radio, saying "What are you doing? Childish." As if out of spite, Devinder shuffles sideways, crouches down, and plays another set of tunes on a tiny toy piano that happened to be on the floor near the larger piano.]

You wanna see "childish," Hollow Man? Fine.

[bingbong21]

The Things We Fear

Summary: It's not just alien invaders that a person can be afraid of. It can also be the what-if's, the what could have beens, and everything in between.(Alternatively: Keith and James become friends with benefits in an effort to cope)

A/N: I 100% blame Keithy on the Sheithans server. This can be found on ao3 here and FFN here. 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

Everyone had been hurting after the failure of the Kerberos mission, but all their grief paled in comparison to Keith’s. James understood why of course; Officer Shirogane had gotten him into the Garrison, saved him from a life of jumping from one prison sentence to the next. But now that he was dead, that whole plan seemed to be in jeopardy. So like the kind, caring man that felt a sense of duty to finish what Shirogane had started and who wished the best for his fellow classmates (which had nothing to do with wanting to be top of the class fair and square), James set out to offer Keith his condolences and a shoulder to cry on. And of course like the paranoid, socially stunted bullheaded asshole he was, Keith took it as an invitation to fight.

It hadn’t been pretty. There was no elegance to their fight, just a raw brutal animalistic force that only two teenage boys on the cusp of manhood could wrought. It ended exactly like their first fight at the Garrison had, with James on his back and Keith above him with raised fists. Then Keith’s shouts turned to sobs, his punches into desperate grabs at clothing, and next thing he knew he was staring up at his ceiling naked with a passed out, equally as naked Keith next to him.

When he woke up the next morning, Keith was gone. Gone from his bed, from the Garrison, and probably from his life forever. James didn’t let the bruised pride or the smarting marks on his body interfere with his career, and soon he was top of the class with Keith as nothing more than a distance memory. He had effectively forgotten about the guy, focused on preparing for whatever would come his way.

Five years later and life decided to give him a roundhouse kick reminder that no one was allowed to forget the name Keith Kogane.

James leaned against the windowsill, staring out at the vast expanse of desert before him. He was in one of the corridors of the Garrison hospital, sitting on one of the cushioned ledges they provided. He was there because…because…honestly he had no fucking clue why he was there. Him and his squad had been cleared pretty quickly after the final battle, diagnosis nothing more than some bruises and scrapes with a prescription of rest and celebration with the rest of the universe. The Paladins of Voltron were either sleeping off four years of an intergalactic war or catching up with the people they left behind and the friends they made along the way. There was no reason for James to be here yet there he sat, looking out to the desert as if it provided answers.

The squeaking of the wheels of an IV drip pulled him from his musings. He looked over and had to fight the urge to rub his eyes. There, walking as if he hadn’t just woken up from an explosion-induced coma was the head of Voltron himself, Keith Kogane. He looked so much younger in the hospital uniform, the bandages wrapped around his head giving him a sense of vulnerability. Just like when they were younger Keith paid him no mind, sitting on the same ledge as him and staring out the window. Either he was still unaware of what an awkward silence was, or he also didn’t know how to approach the sudden tension.

“Didn’t you just wake up from a coma,” James asked; subtlety was never his strong suit when it came to Keith. “What the hell are you doing walking around?”

Keith glanced at him from the corner of his eye before looking back out the window. “Felt weird, sitting there doing nothing. Feel like I should be planning another battle strategy or be in some diplomatic meeting.”

Makes sense; even when they were young Keith felt the need to be occupied by something, otherwise he was prone to getting into trouble. “Don’t you have some aliens to catch up with though?”

Keith shrugged, “Mom and Kolivan are out doing stuff for the Blades, Shiro’s busy being the voice of a new world order, and the wolf is probably either getting spoiled rotten by Lance’s family or playing with Bae-Bae. Don’t exactly have many options left to keep me company.”

“I could keep you company.” The words are out of James’s mouth before he even thinks to process them. Keith fully turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question; James holds his hands up defensively. “What? I’m not a complete and utter asshole you know!”

“We fought literally every time we were in the same room as each other.”

“Not every time,” James shoots back; something about Keith makes him want to argue, even if it makes him look like a dumbass. Those thick caterpillars Keith calls eyebrows furrow together before shooting into his hairline. James feels a smug sense of satisfaction at the light blush that blooms across Keith’s cheeks. He takes it as an invitation to scoot closer to Keith, hand resting dangerously close to his.

“Everybody else is celebrating or rebuilding right now,” he murmurs, “a party of one sounds pretty lonely, don’t you think?”

“Since when have you cared about me being lonely,” Keith responds; it’s quieter, not at all reminiscent of the confident leader he saw in battle. James shrugged, fingers walking between the spaces left by Keith’s.

“Since we saved Earth from a bunch of murderous space furries,” he quips, cocky grin on his face. He settles his hand right on top of Keith’s; for such a fiery guy, he really did have cold hands. “So what do you say?”

Keith’s eyes drop to their hands before slowly making their way back to James’s face. He gives a short nod, jerking his head back towards where he came. Soon the two of them are walking back to Keith’s room, with James thinking back to that night before Keith left. All thoughts cease when the door opens and he’s pulled inside, a mouth slanted over his and the door closing behind them.

When James had left his room after pulling the thin hospital sheets up to Keith’s chin, that should have been the end of it. Just a celebratory knocking of boots together for having not died and saving the universe from tyranny.

Except it kept happening.

Whenever one of those things fell from the sky, James would find himself being shoved into a broom closet or bathroom stall. When they actually managed to catch a break for longer than two days James was either being dragged to Keith’s room or pushed back onto his mattress. Not to say that James was some pushover whore for Keith to use at his fancy; James instigated a bunch of their liaisons himself of course. It’s just…Keith’s need to fuck was a lot higher than his. Like a lot higher. To the point that James wondered if it was a Galra thing to always be in a constant state of fighting or fucking. If so, no wonder those fuckers took over the entire universe.

Apparently others took notice of Keith’s stamina.

“So are you and Kogane just fucking or what?”

James spluttered, water going all over the table. Kinkade, Leifsdottir, and Rizavi all moved their trays accordingly in scarily perfect synch. James glared at Rizavi while coughing, who had the gall to just sit there and innocently poke at her salad. He took the napkin offered by Kinkade, wiping at his mouth.

“What are you talking about?”

“After every mission you and Kogane disappear for approximately ten to fifteen minutes,” Leifsdottir stated as if it were just another piece of data, “afterwards you both appear slightly disheveled with marks that are generally associated with sex. You and Kogane also have a tendency to disappear together for large swaths of time whenever there is nothing else to do, only to come out looking the same.”

“So cut the crap and give us the deets.” Rizavi jabbed her forkful of salad at James’s face. “Y’all fucking or what?”

James heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you must know, yes, we are fucking. It’s a friends with benefits sort of deal; he scratches my back, I scratch his. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Rizavi hums, leaning forward on the table, chin resting in her hands. “And how’s that going for your big fat crush on him?”

James jerked away from the table, face erupting in flames. “I…How…I do not have a big fat crush on him!”

“Seventy-five to eighty percent of your complaints about him in flight school were about things that, upon further analysis, could be considered you actually talking about how attractive he is,” again Leifsdottir chimes in, as if she were just talking about the weather instead of one of her friends’ sex life. James shot her a glare, the blush still visible high on his cheeks.

“Yeah well, the numbers mean nothing. I don’t have a crush on Kogane, and this arrangement here isn’t making me have feelings.” He grabbed his tray, pushing away from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna finish lunch in the hangar.”

He ignored whatever snarky comment came from Rizavi’s mouth as he left the mess hall, thoughts bouncing wildly around his head. There was no way in hell he had a crush on Keith Kogane. Sure he respected the guy for his battle tactics, courage, and flight skills, but so did Commander Iverson and everyone else in the base. Did that mean they all had crushes on Keith? Of course not; it meant they were people with eyes and enough brain cells to rub together to have a decent thought. And fine, maybe he thought he was pretty easy on the eyes, but again that meant nothing. He’d seen Rizavi cycle through so many freak-outs about pretty girls without meaning to seriously pursue them that it barely even phased him.

Everything relaxed as he entered the upper decks of the MFE hangar. Something about being there, close to his ship and the opportunity of freedom just instantly calmed him. He looked around, hoping that he could claim a seat to look over his personal plane, when his eyes caught another Garrison cadet uniform perched on the walkway. More specifically, Keith in a Garrison cadet uniform with that kickass wolf perched on the walkway. Perched on the walkway right above where his beloved MFE sat charging.

Motherfucker.

“Thinking of stealing my ship are you?”

The dull thud that rang out in the hangar as Keith’s skull made contact with the rails above it had James wincing in sympathy. He walked over with his tray, afraid Keith might lash out in some sort of retribution. Keith merely clutched his head, groaning in pain before cracking an eye open.

“Why the fuck do people always think I’m trying to steal their shit,” he grumbled, arms slowly falling back to his sides. One hand came to rest on Kosmo’s head; the wolf pushed his snout into his hand. James shrugged, taking a seat next to him.

“You did steal Captain Shirogane’s care before we got here.”

“That was one time!”

“There was also the time you stole someone’s pens cuz they pissed you off. Oh, and the ti-” James was cut off as Keith slapped a hand over his mouth. He looked over at him, trying to avoid all connotations of intense eyes and hand over mouth with sex.

“Keep it up and I actually will,” Keith threatens before removing his hand. He wipes it off on his pants before crossing his arms on the railing, resting his head on them. James took a moment to study his profile before turning back to his food. Kosmo comes towards him, eyes asking for food and pets; it takes everything in him not to give in.

“What’re you doing in here anyway? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your crew or something?”

“They were getting a little too rowdy for my tastes,” Keith responds, still staring straight ahead. He places a hand on Kosmo’s back, letting it rest. “It’s great to hang out with them, but when you spend two years on the back of a space whale with just your mom and a wolf, it takes a while to get used to it again.”

“Space whale?”

The corner of Keith’s lips twitch upwards, as if remembering fond memories. “It’s a long story.”

He turns to look at him, eyeing his tray empty of everything save a few scraps of meat James left for Kosmo. “What about you? What brings you here instead of being with your squad?”

James set his tray aside, watching as Kosmo descends on it like a vulture. He makes it a point to mimic Keith’s previous posture, resting against the railings. He shrugs, staring down at his jet. “Same as you. Rizavi made one too many snarky jabs.”

Keith hums, “So you can dish it but not take it huh?”

James’s shoulders tense; he’s not about to let some punk ass fuck buddy diss him in his happy place. He whips around to face Keith, only for his retort to die on his lips. Keith is laughing, a smile on his lips and good God he should not look as cute as he does. The Keith he remembers and the Keith he’s been fucking don’t smile or laugh like that. They’ve always been stony faced little bitches, only giving barest hint of emotion in the throes of passion.

“Relax Griffin, I was just kidding.” Keith’s snickers died down, face relaxing into something of…concern? James couldn’t tell, he was still trying to wrap his head around him laughing. “Rizavi really must’ve pissed you off huh?”

James wrenches his eyes away from Keith; anything to not confront the sudden emotions. “Yeah…guess it hit a little too close to home.”

More like a nail getting smacked down by a hammer, but Keith didn’t need to know that. A warm hand placed solidly on his thigh has him jumping form his thoughts. He looks over at Keith, eyes wide and faint blush on his cheeks. Keith’s jaw worked, eyebrows furrowed together as if he were chewing on a questionable piece of meat. James was about to ask what was up before he finally spoke.

“You ever fuck in the back of an MFE before?” James shook his head, too stunned by the sudden turn of events to do much else. Keith grinned, devilish and shit stirring and oh James was so fucked.

“Neither have I. Let’s fix that.”

It was cramped, hot, and humid inside his MFE, and so many different rules were being broken right now but honestly? James could give approximately zero shits at the moment. Not when he was leaning back in the passenger seat, Keith kneeling between his legs and sucking his cock just the way he liked. James moans, fingers combing through Keith’s thick hair. How the fuck did he get so good at this? Was that a thing for the Paladins of Voltron, just going around sucking alien cock? Or maybe he was practicing on one of his other Paladins; maybe he was practicing on Shirogane.

James growls low in his throat, grip tightening in Keith’s hair. Those two were awfully chummy before Kerberos, and now that Shirogane looked like some sort of Greek god? No wonder Keith’s asshole was always so ready to go; he’d been taking Shirogane’s monster cock on the regular for years now.

He yelped as a sharp pain shot up his thigh. James glared down at Keith who was currently sucking and licking a dark mark into the meat of his thigh. “The hell you do that for?”

“You spaced out,” came Keith’s smooth reply. He crawled up James’s body, settling himself in the other man’s lap. “I’m not doing this cuz I like the smell of sweaty balls you know.”

James pointedly looked out the window of the fight yet, trying to ignore the way Keith idly played with the ends of his hair. He could hear the frown in Keith’s voice when he spoke again. “What the hell has got you so worked up today?”

“Nothing!” James yelped again as Keith leaned in and bit into his neck. “Would you stop that! It’s not my fucking kink!”

“Not what you were saying a couple days ago,” Keith mumbles against his skin. He grasps James’s chin, yanking him to look him directly in the eyes. “Now tell me.”

James sucks in a breath, trying to resist the hypnotic lure of those beautiful eyes. “You and Shirogane ever fuck?”

Keith stares at James for a minute before his face scrunches up. James had seen the face before, when that orange-haired alien dude had cooked something up for the Paladins to try using Earth ingredients. “What? No! Why the fuck would I ever fuck Shiro?”

“Are you blind? Shirogane is hot! Plus…” James averts his eyes. He’s not sure why this part embarrasses him, but it does. “You guys have always had that really close weird bond thing going on.”

“Oh my God…” Keith mumbles, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighs, “You ever see that really old show Scrubs? Takes place in a hospital with a bunch of interns or some shit?”

James nods; it was Rizavi and Kinkade’s favorite old timey television show. Keith continues, “You know that one pair of friends on the show? Scrawny white guy and black surgeon dude? TJ and Thurk?”

“JD and Turk.” The correction slips out before James can stop himself; Keith rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, JD and Turk. That’s the kind of relationship we have. Definitely, hundred percent gay, we love each other to the ends of the universe and would do whatever it takes to save each other. But we’re not in love with each other, alright? He’s coping with Adam being dead and all that happened to him, and I’m…”

Keith goes silent, finally averting his eyes from James’s face. His jaw and face do that thing from earlier again. James cocks his head to the side, puzzled. “You’re…?”

“…Dealing with everything else, I guess,” he finally responds quietly. His shoulders are slumped forward; again James is struck just by how vulnerable and small Keith can look when he’s not leading them in battle. The thought is gone when Keith resettles in his lap, lining their bare cocks up together in his hand. His eyes are a smoky haze of lust and want; James is starting to wonder if that’s just a cover.

“Come on, we gonna finish or what,” Keith asks, lazily thrusting against James. James shudders at the feeling, prick perking back up in interest.

“Dunno, the moment is kinda gone,” James manages to mumble. Keith merely smirks, the fire of being issued a challenge lighting up in his eyes.

“Then let’s bring it back.”

More time had passed; the giant robots attacking them had slowed down to a trickle thankfully. Now it was just making alliances and a bunch of other bureaucratic niceties. Which was a pleasant change from the usual “Save the Earth or probably die trying” shtick they’d been doing, except that it kept the Paladins busy. Meaning that it kept Keith busy. Busy, and not needing a good lay to keep his head on straight. Which unfortunately for James meant he had plenty of time to ponder what his life had become and try to find meaningless mundane tasks to fill the time.

(“Why are you so obsessed with Scrubs recently? Is this a Keith thing?”

“It is not a Keith thing.”

“Oh my God it’s a Keith thing.”)

Right now he was engaged in his current least favorite way to pass the time; staring up at the ceiling of his room unable to sleep after curfew had been called. After so many years of being on edge, having to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, James had trouble relaxing when the days had been so…mundane. No secret rendezvous with Keith to tire him out, no life or death situations to deplete his mental energy, just nothing but peace.

He hated it.

James groaned, rolling onto the side facing his bedroom, eyes shut tight. No, hate was too strong of a word. He just…had adapted too quickly to wartime life and was now having trouble adapting back. He’d seen the others have the same struggles; they’d walk around aimlessly, looking for something to do but finding nothing. Funny how they were chosen for their skills at adapting to new situations but sucked complete ass at reverting back.

A warm moist puff of air hit James’s face; he scrunched his nose at the smell. Why the hell did his room suddenly smell like dog breath? He cracked an eye open only to come face to snout with Kosmo.

“Jesus.” He scrambled upright, heart racing. Why the absolute fuck was Kosmo in his room? Sure he’d gotten into the habit of giving the wolf a treat every time he saw him, but that didn’t seem special enough to have him break into his room in the middle of the night. Kosmo merely tilted his head, watching James with an otherworldly sense of intelligence. James sighed, reaching forward to ruffle his fur.

“I dunno what you want, but you should go ba-” A sudden pulling sensation deep in his gut, and soon James found himself sitting in a corner of the Garrison gym in his boxers and undershirt. He whipped his head back and forth, trying to grapple with the realization that he was here and not in his bed. He glared at Kosmo, who was quietly curled up in front of him looking innocent of any crimes.

“Hey, what was that for?!”

“James?”

His spine stiffened; he recognized that voice all too well. He turned towards the source of the voice, eyes the size of dinner plates. He watched as Keith walked over, hair pulled back in a low ponytail, sweat running down his face and soaking the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He noticed how his hands were taped, but more importantly he noticed how low his pants rode on his hips.

“The hell are you doing in here?”

Keith’s voice had him snapping to attention. He gestured wildly at Kosmo. “I…y-your stupid dog came into my room and brought me here!”

Keith narrowed his eyes at Kosmo; Kosmo gave an uninterested yawn. “I thought I told you not to wake people up?”

“Actually I was already awake,” James offered; even after being kidnapped by a wolf he felt the need to make sure Keith knew it followed the rules. Keith blinked, apparently taken aback by the statement, before looking to Kosmo again. Kosmo stood up to stretch before walking forward to Keith. He bumped his head against Keith’s hand, clearly looking for affection.

“I’m not petting you just because you know what a loophole is,” Keith chided; Kosmo’s ears lowered, a whine coming from him. “Don’t give me that look! You know exactly what I meant when I said that. Now take him back to his room.”

James swears up and down that Kosmo gets the same defiant look in his eyes that Keith gets before promptly turning away from him. With head and tail held high he walks over to James, plops himself in his lap, and immediately does not do what Keith asked of him. James and Keith both stare at Kosmo in confusion; Keith growls.

“No, that’s not-Stop petting him, you’re reinforcing bad behavior!”

James pulled his hand away from the soft fur, looking up sheepishly at Keith. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Keith called him out. “Sorry…”

Keith groans, walking over to sit beside him. He slides down the wall, shirt riding up as he sits, legs spread out in front of him. This close James can smell the pungent scent of sweat and body odor, dizzy from its force. Keith leans his head back against the wall, eyes slipping closed. The gym fills with silence; James begins petting Kosmo again.

“Why are you in here anyway?” The question claws its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to hold it back. “Curfew’s been in effect for a couple hours now.”

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” is the blunt response Keith gives. James looks over at him, observing the way he tenses at the question. How his body seemed poised to strike at a moment’s notice. It was so eerily similar to how he was as a child that James finds himself giving into his old habits of prodding when he shouldn’t.

“Why?”

Keith’s jaw tenses, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. James can tell he’s at war with himself, fighting a battle to tell a lie or a truth. It’s odd, watching Keith actually think before he moves. James had only ever known him to act rashly without a thought for the consequences. It was what made him a thorn in everyone’s side, yet at the same time made him such an incredible pilot. As the silence and battle stretched on, James pressed further.

“Keith…”

“Because of the nightmares,” Keith finally shouts; James jumps, startling Kosmo. Keith runs his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the ground as he continued to speak.

“Because when I close my eyes I see my team dying, I see Shiro dying, or that stupid fight in that God forsaken factory, or my mom dying just within reach or,” Keith heaves a breath, fingers gripping the material of his pants, “or an entire planet being blown up because the Galra have just gotten that powerful now.”

“These alliance meetings…I know they’re important, know that they can change history, but they just…they make it impossible to exhaust myself so I can just black-out in bed.”

Realization dawns on James; he grips Kosmo’s fur harder than necessary. “That’s why we’re sleeping together, isn’t it?”

Keith nods, head still bowed as if in shame. James frowns as he processes the information, smoothing the ruffle he made in Kosmo’s fur. He’s not sure why this surprises him; maybe it’s because Keith has never failed to give off an air of confident nonchalance. Maybe it’s because he never suspected Keith of all people to use sex as a coping mechanism. Maybe it’s because he never thought Keith would involve him in any of his recovery steps. Either way he’s here and a choice needs to be made.

James turns towards Keith, reaching out with the hand not buried in Kosmo’s fur. He tilts Keith’s head up before slanting his mouth against his. He feels the way Keith freezes beneath his touch, lips chapped and slightly parted. Knows the exact moment Keith melts, moving his mouth in an all too familiar dance, allowing him to slip his tongue in. Shudders at the intimate feel of them meeting in the middle, twining around each other in greeting, combined with a tingling sensation in his stomach. Surprised when a sudden force has him pushing Keith down into…a mattress?

James pulls back, panting as he takes in their surroundings. They were back in his room, Kosmo nowhere in sight. He must have teleported them back before going back to Keith’s room.  He looks back to Keith, taking in the sight of cheeks flushed with something other than physical exertion, black hair spread out in a halo around his face. He traces his thumb reverently over the scar he came back with before daring to speak.

“You take care of the universe,” he murmurs; he settles more on top of Keith, straddling his hips. “Now, let me take care of you.”

A barely perceptible nod from Keith has James leaning back down to reconnect their mouths. He slips a hand under Keith’s shirt as their tongues pick up where they had left off. His skin is still tacky with sweat from the workout he did; James feels a desperate need to run his tongue over those hardened muscles. He pushes Keith’s shirt up higher, breaking the kiss only to remove it. He quickly yanks his own off, tossing them both to some part of the room before focusing back on Keith.

In the wake of Keith’s admission, the scars that mar his body tell a new tale to James. They tell the story of a man who’d give everything and anything to save the universe from tyranny. They speak testaments to his utter selflessness, how he puts lives above his own and asks for nothing in return. Before James had simply thought they were attractive, marks of his prowess as a warrior and ability to survive. Now though, he thinks as he traces the scar on his cheek and shoulder with his eyes, now he just hopes that someone had been there to soothe the hurts he suffered.

He presses a gentle kiss to the scar before peppering kisses down his neck. It’s different from the other times, no harsh bites or crudely given hickies. Tonight isn’t about staking claims or taking frustrations out on each other’s bodies. Tonight it’s about simply being there, taking care of the wounds they can’t see. Again James is reminded of that night they shared so long ago; he realizes then that he hadn’t treated Keith like he should have, like he had wanted to. He presses a kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, so dangerously close to his pulse point.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is almost lost in the harsh panting Keith provides. James feels fingers carding through his hair, blunt nails gently scraping his scalp.

“…For what,” comes the hoarse reply. James looks up, eyes locking onto Keith’s. He shrugs, hand idly moving to stroke at his abdomen; Keith’s muscles contract.

“For not treating you right,” he finally managed, moving to kiss a more recent scar further down. He continues moving, pressing kisses along every trace of injury, old and new, speaking between the kisses. The hand in his hair tightens as he moves ever close to Keith’s cock.

“That night, after the pilot error…I should’ve been kinder to you. I shouldn’t have said all the things I said to you, before or during. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you deserve to know.”

The silence in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. James wonders if Keith will shove him off now and tell him never touch him again. He’s surprised when he hears a isgh, and the hand in his hair pets him instead.

“I…” The hand stutters, before resuming its pace, “I’m sorry too. I know I wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and…I shouldn’t have left you that night. At least, not like that.”

James dares to look up; Keith is looking off to the side, finding the corner of his bed absolutely fascinating. He sees that vulnerable side Keith so rarely shows, and knows that he should tread carefully here. Still, seventeen-year-old James wants answers, wants to know why he was abandoned when all he tried to do was be kind.

“So why did you,” he asks as softly as he can manage, moving back up his body. Keith shrugs, still not making eye contact.

“I dunno, I was…scared? I didn’t know what would happen after, and I already was going to leave, so I just…did.”

James cups his face again. “You scared now?”

“Absolutely terrified.” Keith’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, leaning into the touch. “But…I don’t want to stop.”

James huffs, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms he keeps on his night stand. “That makes two of us then,” He uncaps the lube; Keith begins to shimmy out of his pants and boxers at the sound, “So at least…we can be scared together.”

He pulls his own boxers down, exposing his hard cock nestled in brown curly pubic hair to the air. He rolls the condom down, wanting to be prepared as soon as Keith is slicked and stretched. He takes his time loosening Keith, using one finger at first before gradually moving to two, then three. He never paid much attention to the sounds Keith made before and he curses himself profusely. The moans, the high pitched mewls he makes when James manages to strike his prostate, the expressions he makes on his face as he basks in pleasure…it’s enough to have him grasping the base of his dick to keep from cumming too soon. The rest is a blur; he’s only back to full awareness when he’s pushing inside Keith.

The feeling of that familiar wet heat gripping him tightly, coupled with the flood of newly discovered feelings has James feeling like it’s his first time all over again. Perhaps in a way it is; perhaps this was life giving them a second chance at something incredible. He reaches up, fingers lacing with Keith’s as he sets a slow pace, moans mingling beautifully with the punched out cries from Keith. With every thrust inside him James feels the balance of their relationship shift, changing from something to casual to something deeper than either of them ever dared to dream of. It brings a pleasure far greater than any physical action has ever wrought. He reaches down, taking Keith’s cock in his hand and stroking it, coaxing a gasp and moan from the man beneath him.

“James,” Keith pants; his hands grip tighter to his shoulders, legs moving to wrap around his hips to pull him in deeper. “I can’t…I’m gonna-ah!”

James slants his mouth over Keith’s milking him slowly through his orgasm. He feels his own drawing ever closer, abdomen drawing tight. His pace speeds up ever so slightly and, with a shout of Keith’s name, he spills inside the condom. Panting he rests, pulling away from Keith’s mouth; he chuckles as he sees that just like before Keith has already passed out in his bed, chest rising and falling steadily. He slowly pulls out and makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up. He pulls the covers up, and allows himself to fall asleep to the sight of Keith in his bed.

In the morning James presses himself against Keith’s back with a kiss to his shoulder, intertwining their fingers together, and feels like old wounds can finally begin to heal.

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 23

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Alec slows to a stop, breathing hard. He’s just finished his morning run and he’s ready to collapse with a coffee and maybe a muffin. Luckily, he’d planned his route with that in mind and he’s just a few streets over from Uptown Java.

He brings his shirt up to wipe his face and starts walking to the coffee shop like he has all the time in the world. Once or twice a week Alec likes to push himself on his runs and since he’d known he’d be swinging by, he’d ran ten miles this morning. He's definitely feeling a runner's high even as his thighs are trembling like a newborn colt.

A few minutes later, he’s swinging the door to Uptown open, smiling as he hears the little bell chime.

It’s almost eight and there’s half a dozen people in line ready to get their caffeine fix before work. Alec waits his turn and grins as he sees Luke and Maia working in tandem. Maia is moving with quick grace as she steams milk and drizzles syrup and pours coffee. Luke is expertly handling bills and complicated orders with an easy smile.

When Alec gets to the front of the line, Luke looks up distractedly only to bark out a delighted laugh.

“Hey man,” he says cheerfully. “It’s been so long since I last saw you that I was about to send out a search party.”

“I’ve been busy,” Alec laughs. Shrugging, he continues, “I didn’t realize that it’d been a month since I saw you last.”

Seeing the guilt starting to furrow Alec’s brow, Luke just shakes his head, still smiling. “It’s fine, Alec. Goodness knows that I’ve gone months cooped up in the shop and before I know it, I can’t remember the last time I surfaced.”

He points a finger at Alec’s chest. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t remember a promise of a beer, though,” he says sternly.

Relieved that Luke isn’t genuinely upset, Alec laughs, raising his arms defensively. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t we set a date right now?”

Narrowing his eyes, Luke offers, “Tuesday after next.”

“Sounds good,” Alec agrees readily. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick a sooner date.”

Shrugging, Luke just says, “You’re not the only one who’s busy.”

Alec hands over his card and throws in a generous cash tip when Luke turns around. Luckily, it looks like there’s a few minutes break and Luke moves down the counter to start making Alec’s drink as Maia catches up on everyone else.

“So, what’s been keeping you so busy? Last time we talked you said in no uncertain terms that you didn’t have a boyfriend and I know you like to relax between album cycles. What’s up?”

Luke’s eyes don’t leave the espresso machine as he casually adds, “Could you be preoccupied with a certain professor?”

Alec blinks twice, heart stopping for a moment, before he releases a slow breath. Really, he should’ve expected this.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. I’d have to be living under a rock not to see that you’ve been getting cozy with someone. There was that shady ass picture in that tabloid a few weeks ago and then I see you on TMZ playing coy about a new friend?” Luke finally raises his eyes from where he’d been swirling whipped cream on the top of Alec’s drink. “What gives? I know you, Alec. Talk to me.”

Alec debates for a minute but ultimately capitulates. This is Luke, after all. The man was like a father to him and had seen him in every conceivable state. Alec knows he can go to Luke about anything. So, why not at least admit that there’s something going on?

He sighs. “Okay, you’re right. I made a new friend earlier this summer and I guess that I’ve been. . . preoccupied with him.”

Luke doesn’t gloat, just grins knowingly. “Details.”

Alec crosses his arms on the counter and leans forward. Luke stays at that end of the counter, jerking his head to the till to let Maia know they’re switching.

Biting his lip, Alec thinks about where to start, just how much he wants to divulge. He opens his mouth, just to close it.

Luke doesn’t say anything, let’s him have his space as he makes a drink for the next customer in line.

After a moment or two, Alec starts, “For starters, he’s a professor. Columbia.”

Luke raises a brow. “You do know how to pick ‘em.”

Alec laughs even as he feels heat climb up the back of his neck. “Shut up. Anyway, we met accidentally at this diner one night and then ran into each other again here a few days later. We’ve been talking pretty much nonstop since.”

Narrowing his eyes, Luke repeats, “You met him here?” His eyes widen. “Are you telling me that your Columbia professor is Magnus?”

“Yes?”

Luke’s still for a minute before he doubles over laughing. “Damn, Lightwood, what are the chances?”

Alec lets him yuk it up for a few moments. Eventually, he settles down, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe two of my best customers are dating and I wasn’t the one to set them up.” Humming, Luke says, “Now that I think about it, though, you two really would be good together.”

“We aren’t dating,” Alec clarifies, tone alarmed. “We’re just friends,” he insists.

Granting no quarter, Luke prompts, “But you’d like to be more?”

His tone is light but there’s an undercurrent of knowing. Talking to someone that knows him so well is a double edged sword-- he doesn’t have to tiptoe around the truth, even if he might like the option.

“Yeah,” he says morosely.

Luke expertly makes some cappuccino foam art as he says, “That’s great, Alec! I know we talked about this last month but I was getting a little worried that you were never going to settle down. It’s nice to see you show legitimate interest in someone.”

Alec takes a sip from his crazy straw that’s a jarring blue and orange. “I can be interested in someone all I want-- that doesn’t mean that they feel the same.”

At that, Luke looks up. “What are you talking about? You’re one hell of a catch and if you’re even half as close as I think you might be, than I have a hunch it’s not just one sided.”

“We’ve talked about this before. My career doesn’t exactly lend itself to something serious.”

“You’re a handsome, talented man with a good heart. So, what? You’re on the road part of the year and people are sometimes overly interested in you. That’s no reason that you can’t fall in love someday.”

“My last tour was nine months and I got two weeks off between legs if I was lucky. The press are intrusive as hell-- they’ve been all over the Magnus thing, sniffing like hounds. Isn’t it selfish to ask someone to deal with that when they haven’t signed up for it?”

Luke sends him a pitying look. “I’m not saying that there might not be problems that you’d have to work through. I’m saying that relationships are give and take. Here’s a tip: you’re an idiot. Magnus is choosing to be friends with you. I know a lot of people have either bailed when the scrutiny became too much or that’s the only reason they were with you in the first place. But, I’ll vouch for Magnus. He’s good people and he must genuinely be interested in you.

“You think he hasn’t already thought about what just being your friend means? You’re not an accountant who stays in his office all day. You’re one of the biggest names in the world and even friends choose to deal with whatever attention comes their way. Magnus is anything but stupid. If he’s still your friend even though the press are--” Luke uses air quotes, “‘Sniffing like hounds’ then he’s choosing to stay in your life even with all your baggage.”

There’s a pause as Alec thinks about what Luke’s just said and Luke makes a frappuccino in the meantime. He passes the drink and straw to the waiting customer before turning back to Alec.

“I don’t know if Magnus is into you, Alec. But I can say that you shouldn’t let your insecurities or your own feelings about the media keep you from pursuing something if you want it. Is that the only thing holding you back?”

Alec nods without hesitation. “Yeah. I probably would’ve asked him out weeks ago if I didn’t have to worry about the press.”

Luke reaches over the counter, clapping Alec on the shoulder. “Then, I say go for it. After all of this, the worst that could happen is that he’d say no.” Snorting, Luke continues, “I know you're a big shot and all, but even you’ve been turned down before.”

Alec smiles faintly. “And if I ruin our friendship?”

Luke shakes his head, though Alec can’t see his expression as he’s looking down, concentrating on drizzling caramel. “Don’t worry about that. You can’t let fear control you. From the sounds of things, you have a pretty good foundation. Even if he just wants things to stay the same, could you handle that?”

“Of course,” Alec says, even though he’s not so sure. It’s fine while he hasn’t put himself out there-- he’s dealing with a thousand hypothetical situations where the biggest issue is retaining his friendship with Magnus. But if he were to tell Magnus how he feels and Magnus didn’t feel the same? In the short term, Alec supposes he would be overwhelmed with relief that Magnus doesn’t disappear on the spot. But could he handle months and even years of wanting more when it’s one sided?

He has a sinking feeling that the answer is no.

Luke leaves him to brood and Alec finally heaves himself off the counter. He needs to think and maybe write and he really needs to get in touch with Lydia-- there’s always something that he could be doing. Even during his off time, Alec works hard and right now, he’s be grateful for a distraction.

Alec turns away from the counter. “See you later, Luke. Thanks for the pep talk,” he throws over his shoulder.

“Anytime, kiddo. Don’t be a stranger,” Luke throws out.

Alec makes his way to the front door, taking a quick sip of his drink. He’s reaching for the door when it opens and he almost runs into it. Some fancy footwork keeps his coffee from spilling everywhere and he reaches out automatically to steady the person, wrapping an arm around their back to support them both.

He’s too focused on making sure that his drink doesn’t end up everywhere that he doesn’t notice the other person. Until they speak.

“Alexander?”

Alec jerks his head up so fast that he almost gets whiplash.

He looks into warm brown eyes and can’t help the smile that that transforms his face.

“Magnus, hi,” he says breathlessly.

“Alexander, fancy meeting you here,” Magnus replies, teasing.

Alec brings his drink up, waves it a little. “You know me. I love drinks that are as much caffeine as they are sugar and Luke has my order down pat.”

Magnus hums but doesn’t offer anything further. The two descend into silence. It’s easy, companionable, and Alec doesn’t notice that his arm is still pretty much embracing Magnus even though they’ve both long since regained their equilibrium. He does notice that a runner's high has nothing on seeing Magnus, though.

The two of them are in their own little world until Magnus rakes his eyes over Alec, asking, “Did you workout this morning?”

That jars Alec into action. He hastily drops the arm wrapped around Magnus and steps back. He grimaces. “Yeah. I went for a run this morning and ended it here. Sorry I got so close-- I’m probably disgusting right now.”

He doesn’t say anything but Alec feels his eyes as Magnus runs them over his damp hair and the singlet he’d made out of an old tour shirt.

He sounds distracted as he says, “No need to apologize, darling. I didn’t mind at all.”

He snaps back to attention a minute later and Alec asks, “What are you doing here? I didn’t think that I’d see you for a few days. I figured you’d sleep all day. You got in what? Eight hours ago?”

It’s Magnus’s turn to wince as he looks at his watch. “Just over eight hours,” he confirms. “I’m still on London time though. I went to bed at one but woke up six. I tried to go back to sleep but finally realized it was a waste of time. I figured that if I’m up I should be productive so I threw something on and came here. I’m planning to spend the morning reading over my manuscript.” He pats the computer bag that Alec hadn’t noticed yet. “It’s something I’ve been putting off and it’s low risk enough that I can do it jet lagged.”

Curious, Alec asks, “How far are you?”

“I’m just over halfway. I’ve finished my threads about before WWI and now I’m working on India during the Great War. I have about three hundred pages now so this monster will end up being dreadfully long.”

“Holy shit. That’s so much work," Alec exclaims.

Magnus laughs a little. “It’s a labor of love. I’ve been working on it for a little over a year-- the writing of it. Research has taken me the better part of five years and I still regularly spend days in the archives or occasionally fly to different libraries around the world. I squeezed in a few hours at the British Library and I’m so glad I did-- I ended up with some great first hand accounts that I didn’t even know existed--”

“But enough about that. I don’t want to bore you. How have you been?”

Ignoring the question, Alec asks, “Why aren’t you teaching today? If you’re back and everything, I’m surprised you’re not rushing to campus right now.”

Magnus smiles. “I told my students to take the entire week off. I knew I wouldn’t want to teach and they don’t know that I could’ve had class. It’s a win for everyone. I get to relax a little and catch up on everything I’ve missed and they get to sleep in or put off their assignments for another few days.”

There's an imperceptible pause before Magnus ultimately adds, “Plus, I got to see you this morning, so I’d consider this little play at hooky well worth it.”

Alec returns Magnus’s smile and the two of them just stare into each other’s eyes for a minute before there’s a loud cough behind them. Alec spins around to see a disgruntled customer pointedly looking between them and the counter. Alec’s face doesn’t betray what he’s thinking as him and Magnus move over a few feet so the woman can order.

“Well,” Magnus says when it’s just the two of them again. “We were blocking the doorway.”

Alec just looks unimpressed. “Yeah and she was rude.”

The two of them shake their heads in amusement before Magnus repeats his question from earlier. “What have you been up to in my absence?”

Alec shrugs. “I hung out with my siblings, wrote a little, had a few business meetings.” Missed you like crazy. “Really, whatever I would’ve done had you still been in the city.”

He debates about what he’s going to say before finally admitting, “I missed you, though.”

Magnus’s expression softens. “I missed you, too. I know we talked every day but it definitely felt different. I was hoping I’d see you soon, though I didn’t quite think that it would be within twelve hours of my arrival back into the country.”

Alec clears his throat before nodding towards the door. “Well, I should probably get going. I need a shower and want to work a little.” He gestures to Magnus’s laptop with his drink. “Plus, you’ve got things to do, too. I’ll see you later Magnus.”

He turns away, only to come to a stop as Magnus’s arm reaches out, wrapping a hand around his wrist. Alec’s total focus is on where they’re touching. Magnus’s hand is warm, gently calloused, and Alec realizes with a jolt that besides their brief, accidental embrace this morning, this is the first time they’ve really touched.

It’s innocuous and innocent but it fills Alec with fire.

“What are you doing for dinner?”

Alec freezes as he hears the question. Magnus pulled him back to ask him his dinner plans?

“I’ll probably just grab a pizza or something. What about you?”

Magnus sighs. “Probably the same, though goodness knows that I’d kill for something homemade right now. I’ve been eating takeout for a week but I’m too tired to actually cook.”

Alec thinks about the idea that’s sprung to mind but he can’t find any flaws. “I could-- I could cook? I’m usually the one that makes dinner for my siblings and I like it. I could make something if you wanted to come over?”

Magnus’s eyes light up. He doesn’t seem to realize it, but his thumb starts softly sweeping against Alec’s wrist.

“Are you sure,” he asks. “I don’t want to impose, especially when it’s such short notice--”

“Magnus, it’s fine,” Alec says firmly. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I definitely don’t mind cooking, especially if it’s for you.”

Magnus grins. “Great! What time should I come over?”

Alec hums as he thinks. He really doesn’t have anything structured going on. “How about six? I know that’s a little early but you are jet lagged and we can watch something something after?”

“Sounds like a plan, darling.”

“Great,” Alec responds. “I’ll text you my address?”

Magnus nods and releases Alec. The two of them stand there, silent, neither turning away. Finally, Alec catches Luke’s expectant expression in his peripheral and though he ignores it, it jolts him into motion.

“I’ll see you tonight, Magnus.”

“I can’t wait, Alexander.”

They smile one last time at each other before Alec turns away again, this time uninterrupted.

He’s halfway down the block when he starts grinning. Holy shit. He’d just invited Magnus over to his place. He can’t remember the last time he’d given anyone his address. It was a big decision. He supposes that goes to show just how much Magnus has come to mean to him. He trusts Magnus. He doesn’t give his address out all willy nilly, especially since he also has to worry about his siblings.

This was a big deal.

Reassuring himself that friends make dinner for their other friends all the time, Alec’s subconsciously singing one of his new songs under his breath. He feels good. It’s like just seeing Magnus after a week apart had recharged him. It’s absurd, but-- it’s how he feels.

He’s lost in his own head, thinking of what he wants to make, when his phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket absently, throwing his drink away as he passes a trash can.

It’s just after eight thirty and he sees Lydia’s name across his screen. Knowing that she doesn’t usually call him so early, Alec answers right away, curious.

“Hey, Lyd, what’s going on?”

“Hey, Alec. I have a huge favor to ask. It’s super short notice.”

Lydia sounds a little frazzled, which never happens, and Alec straightens a little, alert. “Lay it on me.”

Lydia blows out a breath. “What are the chances that you could get to the NYU hospital by ten? Sebastian was supposed to go there for a charity op but he cancelled this morning, sighting illness.” Alec can feel Lydia roll her eyes from here. “I really don’t want to leave the kids hanging and you’re one of the only people on my roster who’s in New York right now.”

Alec picks up his pace a little as he listens. He’s nodding before she’s even finished speaking. “Yeah, of course. You know I’m down with this. You said the NYU hospital? Where is that again?”

“It’s off E. 34th Street. I can call Dave and have him ready by 9:30 and you should get there just on time. Is that good?”

“That works. I’m on my way home now and I’ll get ready and by waiting for him when he arrives. Don’t worry-- you know I won’t disappoint the kids.”

Lydia laughs. “And I’m thankful everyday that you’re not a giant asshole. Unlike some of my other clients,” he hears her mutter under her breath.

“Was that everything?”

“Yes, that was the only thing I had for this morning. We need to meet within the next few days and check in on progress and future plans but that can wait. If you get there on time, I’ll be much more lenient with you when we do meet.”

“No you won’t,” Alec says dryly.

Lydia laughs. “Okay, so I won’t go easy on you. But you will win major brownie points and a favor from me.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Oh, hush you. I have a call on the other line, so I’m gonna go and seriously, Alec-- thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. Bye.”

The two hang up and Alec strides down the street.

Sebastian was an asshole. Relatively new to the scene, he’d landed his first Top 40 hit a couple of years ago. While he stayed relevant on the charts, it was well known in the industry that he was a right bastard-- a drama queen who liked to steal credit from others and was proving increasingly unreliable.

Alec scoffs as he turns a corner. It takes a real shitbag to cancel on sick kids. Alec’s glad that he didn’t have any structured plans today, though he probably would have cancelled them to do this. Alec visits a New York hospital, usually the pediatric department, once a year minimum. NYU has a special place in his heart after the way they took care of Max and he’s donates monthly.

There’s a different doorman today and Alec just nods as he strides through and makes it up to his apartment without issue. Everyone must be out and Alec goes straight to the shower. He gets ready in record time, even for him, and grabs a bottle of water on his way out the door half an hour later.

Dave is waiting for him. There’s no time for pleasantries-- he has just under thirty minutes to get to the hospital and it’ll take every bit of that time in New York traffic-- but it’s an easy silence. Dave has been his driver for years and he’s seen Alec in every state. This is just business as usual.

He’s an excellent driver, navigating smoothly in and out of lanes. They come to a stop at the front doors of the pediatric wing at 9:57. Alec opens his own door and sees Lydia waiting for him with her ever present iPad.

She starts walking without looking up and he follows her through the automatic doors. They’re in the elevator before she acknowledges him.

“Good morning, Alec. Thanks again for doing this.”

He smiles easily. “Like I said, it’s no problem. You know I’m always free for this kind of thing.” He pauses a beat before continuing, “So Sebastian bailed?”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “I should’ve seen this coming, honestly. He’s getting even more erratic lately. It’s not just public appearances. Do you know that he’s been over forty five minutes late to his last two performances? The one before that? They found him five minutes before warm-ups drunk off his ass and belligerent.”

She leans closer, tone dropping to conspiratorial. “Between you and me? His contract is up next month and I don’t think Branwell and Co. will be renewing his term.”

Though it’s not surprising, Alec can’t keep his expression neutral. “You have to do what’s right for your company. You do know that no other management company will touch him with a ten foot pole though, right? And if he doesn’t have an agent he’s dead in the water. His career is over.”

Lydia shrugs, the shark gleam in her eyes obvious. “He dug his own grave. I might expect a lot from my people but I also give them free reign. There are only a handful of real rules I have and they’re basic. If he can’t handle showing up on time to concerts, then he’s not my problem as of August 17th.”

“Does he know he’s losing you?”

“I don’t think so. Sebastian might be a bastard but he wants this-- the money, the fame, everything. If he knew just how seriously he was damaging his reputation and prospects, I think he would’ve cleaned up his act even if it was only until negotiations concluded and he had a new contract with us signed. But, like I said. My company doesn’t have time for celebrities like him.”

She moves closer to Alec, straightening his shirt and flicking imaginary lint from the shoulder. “Now, you on the other hand are a dream client. You show up when you say you will, people love you, and you’re not bad to look at.”

Alec huffs out a laugh. “Thanks, Lyd. Good to know I’m not deadweight for you.”

Lydia snorts. “Please, Alec. You know that you’re my best client and that I’ll always be indebted to you.”

“Water under the bridge, Lydia.”

“We’ll agree to disagree,” she says as she always does every time the topic comes up. “I know, I know, it’s no big deal that you signed with your high school friend fresh out of college and gave her a shot even though all the other PR companies were circling you like sharks scenting fresh blood. No biggie. Anyone would do it.”

Alec doesn’t deign to answer. He justs shakes his head, amused. They’ve gone over this a million times and Lydia will never accept that he didn’t just do it as a favor to a childhood friend. He’d been in the business for a few years and while he’d been steadily on the rise, his old agent hadn’t wanted him for anything but the heft percentage he gave her. He wanted an agent who knew him and really did have his best interests at heart, not just the bottom line his name could provide.

Lydia had been top of her class and keen to start her own management company. Alec hadn’t waited for her to ask him, instead offering to be her first client. His show of faith hadn’t been unfounded and now Lydia had a waiting list and was constantly expanding staff and headquarters. She was busy but she was thriving.

A win-win for everyone, then.

The elevator doors open and Alec walks out first. There are a few kids lined up in the corridor and he stops at the first on he sees, crouching down until he’s eye level.

“Hey there,” he says, grinning. “What’s your name?”

The kid look to be about eight and his right leg is in a cast.

“Danny,” he says, excited to have an adult show interest.

“Hey, Danny. I’m Alec.” He extends a hand and Danny eagerly shakes it with his own, proud at being offered such an adult gesture. Alec talks to the kid for a few minutes, learns how he broke his leg-- bicycling accident-- and his favorite movie-- Captain America.

He moves onto the next patient. He spends close to forty minutes just in the corridor. Alec really enjoys these visits. They can be emotionally draining and exhausting but it’s worth it in spades to get to meet kids and lift their spirits, even if it’s just for a morning. It helps that he talks to everyone on the same level. He’s not a grown-up faking interest. He talks about everything from someone’s favorite book to answering questions about the solar system. Kids always have a million things to say; They just need someone to show that they genuinely care.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when Alec finally surfaces. He’s taken a hundred pictures, including some with the staff, and he’s ready for a nap. These public appearances are usually slated for two hours and Alec has spent double that in the hospital. The staff seem appreciative of him making an unexpected visit-- he catches a few thinly veiled insults about Sebastian and studiously ignores them. He might not like the guy but professionals don’t shit talk to strangers, even if it is warranted.

Lydia stays in the vicinity the entire time. She does her own thing, knows when to let Alec have some space, but she’s there if Alec needs her. This is a great PR opportunity but Alec never advertises his visits to hospitals. That’s not to say they haven’t occasionally leaked-- staff, parents, or teenagers spilling the beans-- but Alec tries his damnedest not to get any undue credit for it. These visits aren’t for his image; they’re just to be a decent human being.

It’s a little after two when Lydia and Alec walk through the automatic doors and into the July heat. He’s immediately sweating and Lydia looks annoyed as she takes off her suit jacket and slings it over her arm.

“Well, I’d say that was a success.”

Alec hums as he slips his sunglasses on. “Yeah, it went pretty well. The kids seemed excited.”

Lydia laughs. “You really have a way with children, you know? You’re a good guy, Alec. I know Sebastian wouldn’t have been as fun today.”

Alec just shrugs. “I just do my best but yeah, I agree. Sebastian would’ve probably been a disaster.” He gives her a look. “I’m surprised you even booked him with a hospital appearance.”

Sighing, Lydia admits, “I thought it would help his image . Visiting sick kids? It’s a foolproof PR trick. Too bad he’s too much of a dick to follow through.”

Alec throws an arm over her shoulders as he sighs too. “You can’t save them all, Lyd. Sometimes people just want to sink their own boat.”

“Don’t I know it,” she glumly replies.

The two walk for a block or two until Lydia ducks out from Alec’s arm.

“I have to head back to the office and get some work done. Not all of us have nothing to do all day.”

“Hey,” Alec says, mock offended. “I’ll have you know I’ve written half a dozen songs in the past couple of weeks.”

Surprised, Lydia asks, “Really? I thought you were suffering from chronic writer’s block?”

Alec smiles. “Something must’ve broken through. I have two almost finished with music and everything and the others are over halfway written, I’d say. I’m going to try to sneak in some recording time next week.”

“Way to go, Alec. I’m glad that you seem to have gotten some inspiration.”

Alec smiles, nodding. “It’s a nice change of pace. This stuff might not make it onto the album, but at least we have something. Even if they were just warm-ups, these songs are good just for what they represent.”

“That Alec Lightwood has his mojo back?”

���Shut up,” Alec says as he grins.

“I can’t wait to hear these songs. Maybe I’ll visit the studio,” Lydia teases.

“Yeah, yeah. You know I don’t let anyone in the studio except techs when I’m recording.”

“Whatever, Lightwood. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Alec takes a step back as Lydia half turns in the opposite direction. “Sounds good. Later, Lyds.”

Alec walks across a crosswalk, head lost in thought. It’s mid afternoon now and Magnus is due to come over in a few hours. With that thought in mind, Alec moves out of the way as he takes his phone out. He texts Magnus his address, including the code for the Penthouse unit.

He thinks about what to make for dinner. He wants something simple that he can make even if he feels like he’s a moment away from self-combusting. Alec knows that Magnus is distracting-- it would be too embarrassing if he burned his building down because he was trying a fancy recipe trying to impress him.

With that thought in mind, Alec changes his route.

He has some grocery shopping to do.

[hunnybadgerv]

It’s the Thought That Counts | Mass Effect: Andromeda

Summary: Cassie Ryder decides to share a special surprise with someone that has become quite dear to her.

a/n: Written as a gift for @vorchagirl who has been especially encouraging and sweet to me this year. Thank you so much. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better. Happy Holidays!

Links: AO3 | FFnet

It’s the Thought That Counts

-1-

Cassie Ryder stared at the image on her console, swiping it from side to side to inspect every curve, every angle for even the slightest imperfection. It was times like these when her perfectionism could be more a burden than a blessing. “This would be so much easier at the research station,” she mused to herself as her eyes narrowed at the screen.

With an exhausted sigh, she stood and stretched her arms above her head. “Of course, then you’ll also have to explain to the entire ship what you’re doing,” she added, continuing the conversation with herself. “And that would be far more sharing than I’d prefer to do just this moment.”

She walked back over to her desk and polished up a few flaws she thought she saw here and there. Of course, once it was complete, she waited until the Tempest’s night cycle, when the fewest members of her crew were awake and kicking around. It would limit the number of questions she had to answer. And the number of lies she might have to craft. Cassie really was the worst liar; it seemed her twin brother Poll was the only one of them to really have any skill in that arena. Pulling up the design on the main station in the heart of the ship, she gave it one more quick once over, wincing at a pointy bit here and a bump there. She took the extra time to smooth it all out.

“Pathfinder, I do believe that this would be considered a waste of Initiative resources,” SAM stated.

“Mmhmm,” she agreed. They’d already had this discussion once.

“Are you certain about this course of action?”

“What are you going to do SAM, taze me? Stop my heart, again? All for a little whimsy? Hmm?” she asked, the challenge clear in her voice.

She got no answer.

“Look, it’s not like I’m a huge waster of resources. But this—” Cassie sighed, resting her hands on the edge of the round table. “I can’t explain why, but it’s important, SAM. Even if only to me.”

A silence dragged on between them, it was kind of strange for the two of them. Cassie hoped it was because SAM might be considering what she said. “Is there some way I can assist?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “No, SAM. I think I got it. Besides … that’s at least half the point. Crafting it myself.”

It took almost no time for the simple, non-mechanical design to be produced by the machine. Once complete, Cassie put her real skills to the test and set to wiping the activity from the production log. Of course, she also knew that would raise questions about the supply levels when Vetra did her inventories.

“Another problem for another day,” the pathfinder told herself as she scampered back to her quarters.

The pyjak, Ella was sitting on the edge of her desk, playing with the strands of red fabric she’d cut from a shirt. “Those are not for you, miss.”

The primate just blinked at her. Since being sent to the Tempest, Ella had proven herself quite clever and ingenious; she also proved herself to be a quick learner. Sometimes it made Cassie wonder: if the 600-year journey allowed the krogan’s biology to work past the genophage, what kind of evolutionary changes had occurred with Ella and the other creatures brought along by the Initiative?

Cassie relented, stowing her small sculpture in a drawer. “Okay, fine. One,” she said, holding up a single finger.

Ella held one strand out to her and Cassie tied it around her wrist in a loose, yet decorative bow.

“Now, may I have the other one back.” The pathfinder held her hand out expectantly.

The space monkey looked from her wrist, to the ribbon in her other hand and then hopped off the desk with both and took off down the hall.

The pathfinder didn’t chase her, she just sighed and leaned back in her chair, glancing over at the space hamster, who had hidden aboard her ship somehow. “And this is why I cut extras,” she mumbled toward the cage as if he might have some thoughtful input.

At least, he didn’t seem to want to be festive as well. Taking the sculpture back out, she tied a red ribbon around the stem area. Then looped a longer piece through the eye in that same section.

“There,” she said, holding the other end of the longest ribbon, her creation dangled, turning slowly.

“Nexus in sight.” Kallo’s voice chimed through her quarters.

She knew that single announcement would enliven the entire ship. Her own heart beat faster at the proposition. She tucked her treasure away once more, wrapping it completely in a bit more of the red shirt she’d made the ribbons from.

-2-

The onmi-tool chime echoed through the medical bay. Dr. Harry Carlyle clamped a hand down on his wrist. He knew exactly what that sound meant. In a moment, he tried to pull up the schedule Cassie had given him and match the Tempest’s arrival to the alarm that just rang. Be it fatigue or just a hole in his memory, he could not reconcile it. Even still, he completed his task with attentive haste and completed the revival physical of a young engineer.

Just as Harry could be in his duties, Cassie was a creature of habit; she always stopped by the bridge to speak with Captain Dunn and ducked into SAM node before finding her way to the med bay or elsewhere. It was the latter where he hoped to catch her.

When his long-legged stride carried him through into main atrium of the habitation deck. A young, recently awoken crew member called out to him. “Dr. Carlyle. Doctor, over here.”

Harry smiled and nodded, crossing toward her and a group who seemed to be her friends.

“I just wanted to thank you again for all your help.”

“You’re very welcome,” he assured her. “You certainly seem to have found your equilibrium.”

With a smile, she nodded. “Indeed. You were right …”

A flash of a particular shade of aqua shimmered in his peripheral vision. Harry’s eyes darted from the young woman’s face toward that familiar splash of color that stood out against the grays and blues of the Hyperion’s interior. His eyes met a bright gaze, just a bit darker than her hair. Cassie peeked out from around a corner and flashed him the most inviting smile. She tipped her head and ducked out of sight. Her finger crooked in a come-hither motion he did not want to resist, before it too disappeared.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” he said, touching her shoulder lightly. Then he began to extract himself form the conversation. “If you’ll pardon me, I need to—” Harry couldn’t come up with proper excuse to explain his rapid social retreat, but slipped out of the conversation without another word anyway.

With a curious glance, he rounded the same corner where Cassie vanished. He barely entered the corridor that led to SAM Node when her hands twisted in his tunic and pulled him near. His eyes sank closed when the velvety softness of her pliant lips met his. He wrapped her up in his arms, holding her body against his.

In that instant, he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he held her like that. Of course, it didn’t matter either. With her in his arms, it felt like no time had passed at all. She kissed him with abandon, like she too had forgotten they were standing in an open corridor where anyone could happen upon them.

As biology and necessity demanded, the kiss broke; far too soon for his tastes. But then, separations of all sorts from her always came too soon for his liking.

“And hello to you as well, Pathfinder,” Harry said with a laugh as he looked down into her sparkling eyes.

“Hiya, Doc,” she replied, that engaging smile of hers widening a hair.

“I could stand to be greeted like that far more often.”

Her cheeks reddened, drawing a chuckle out of him. “Me, too.”

“You know there are people right over there,” he told her with a nudge of his head. Harry only just realized they’d both been whispering.

“I know. But …” Her gaze darted upward.

Harry’s followed. At first sight, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at, except that it was meant to resemble a plant of some kind. The oblong leaves contained small white and red berries as well. “What is that?” he asked.

Cassie poked him in the ribs, making him jerk away a bit. “It’s supposed to be mistletoe.”

That admonishment led his mind on a quick journey. “Is it?” he asked.

“It doesn’t look that bad to be unrecognizable,” she replied with a hint of a pout. And her inflection rose with a sort of unasked question.

It tugged at the corners of his mouth as he let out a soft chuckle. “No, I didn’t mean the mistletoe,” he said, stealing another quick kiss, since they were still standing beneath it. “Is it …” A part of him didn’t want to say it. One of the biggest selling points of the Andromeda Initiative had been the idea of starting over, starting anew, a fresh beginning in a new place where none of the old prejudices should hold. But of course, no one had explicitly said that the plan included sloughing off old traditions.

“Christmas,” she finished for him in a quieter murmur, nodding her head.

Harry cupped her cheek in one hand, guiding her lips to his once more, while pulling her body close to his once again in the process. “Well, then. Let me hope I’m the first to say Happy Christmas.”

Her arms snaked around him. The sensation carrying the practical doctor off into the role of the most impractical lover. He didn’t care that they stood in a barely secluded corner of a hallway kissing like teenagers between class bells. He clung to her. His lips only leaving hers in order to gasp in a breath here and there, which Cassie offered no argument to, nor did she discourage it in any way.

“This numbers among the most precious gifts I can ever recall,” he finally whispered against her lips, his gaze holding hers.

He felt her smile against his mouth. “Mine, too,” she agreed. Cassie pressed another tender kiss upon his lips.