#anyway your ten seconds longer of pausing at an intersection is not the end of the world

[sassygwaine]

here is a list of things drivers can do to make me slow down even more when crossing the street or otherwise pausing traffic:

honk at me

yell at me

turn while i’m still in the crosswalk

continue rolling through the crosswalk as though the mere presence of your motor vehicle is enough to relieve the reason i am walking so slowly in the first place

you can put nudge your bumper into my fucking legs it is not going to make me go any faster

[madamewriterofwrongs]

From the fluffy/blushy prompts: "No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them". Thank you!

Happy NaNoWriMo (aka, working multiple projects and filling prompts <3)!

911/Buddie

Take My Heart Away With You

“Eddie Diaz, as I live and breathe.” Half a dozen heads shot up from across the intersection as the firefighters of the 118 continued to pack up their equipment. It had been a simple enough call: three-car accident in a residential area, no major injuries or immediate dangers. In fact, the entire incident was over and done with in less than an hour; they might make it back in time for Bobby to cook lunch before half of the crew were off for the day.

Although, plans were certain to change given the determined excitement from the stranger on the sidewalk.

Eddie looked up from his place beside Buck and recognized the man instantly. “Jerry? What the hell are you doing here?”

Without a second glance, he tossed his share of the equipment haphazardly into the truck for Buck to sort and jogged over to greet his friend.

“What am I doing here? Last I heard, you were living in Texas with your parents, and now I find you pulling cats out of trees in the City of Angels?”

From against the side of the truck, Chimney tilted his head to mutter “I don’t think I’ve ever rescued a cat from any form of flora.” Hen chuckled but agreed with a quip of her own, though Buck was admittedly too fixated on the other voices to pay much attention. Unfortunately, he was a little too far away to hear Eddie’s conversation with his old friend so he returned to his task, picking up the slack until his partner’s return.

“I moved out here with my son about three years ago, now.” Eddie hadn’t seemed to notice the distinct lack of chatter from his teammates as they all strained to hear his conversation. “You remember Christopher? He’s almost ten now.”

Jerry whistled in response, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “Crazy. And Shannon? How’s she doing?”

No matter the passage of time, the sudden memory of losing his wife was always a shock to his system. “She, uh, she passed just over a year ago. It’s just the two of us. Well, I’ve got my aunt and my grandmother, and Carla, and Buck, and the rest of the 118.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked down at the hand on his shoulder and his mind returned to the days when the most sympathetic greeting he could expect on a daily basis was a firm clap on the shoulder. “but it seems like you’re doing well here.”

“I am.” Eddie was finally able to admit that he was thriving in LA, and it was nothing to be ashamed of (actually, he was almost able to admit that). “But what about you? I thought you were moving to Paris to be with Katie and her family.” It had been some time but he seemed to remember long nights of listening to Jerry pine for his girlfriend who had decided to move home now that she was done with her Masters, and how much he would miss her once his tour was over.

“I did. I’m just in town for a conference.” His friend flashed a smile that reminded Eddie of Buck’s giddy grins when he was almost too excited to share his news. “We’ve been married now, two years in August.”

He had nothing but congratulations to offer Jerry, though his heart did ache to see the ring glinting in the sunlight.

“How have you been since Shannon…” there was no need to end the sentence for two men so acquainted with death. “Is Carla…?”

“No.” He gently affirmed. “Carla’s an amazing woman but she helps care for Christopher when I’m at work.” And what a god-send she was. “Buck introduced us.”

There was a familiar glint in his eyes that Eddie recognized from every time he found himself roped into pulling pranks on their last day at any camp. “And Buck is…”

“My coworker.” He emphasized with a nod in his friend’s direction, hiding the smile that came when Buck gave an awkward wave.

“He’s cute.”

Eddie barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jerry wasn’t the first (and he certainly wouldn’t be the last) of his friends to be charmed by Buck with just a single look.

“And he knows it.” He grumbled good-naturedly. “But listen, I gotta get back to work. It was nice seeing you.”

He was already jogging back when he turned at the sound of his name. “A couple of the guys are getting together on Thursday to watch the game; you wanna join us?”

Eddie paused in the middle of the street, a rejection on his lips before he paused to consider the offer in its entirety. A night with old friends who shared a very specific (and some would say ‘traumatic’) experience, most of whom he hasn’t seen since returning prematurely from his second tour. A night which didn’t predictably end at home or at Buck’s, reminiscing about the day – not that he didn’t enjoy his downtime with someone he’d easily call his best friend. A night with no responsibilities.

“Yeah.” He called as he jogged back to his old friend. “Let me give you my new number and you can send me the details.”

Across the road, Buck stood upright as he no longer subtly observed Eddie’s interaction. “Did he just give that guy his number?”

“So what if he did?” Hen slammed the back of the ambulance after returning their unused equipment. “It’s been over a year since Shannon died, I think it’s good that he’s getting back out there.”

Chimney hummed in contemplation beside her. “I’m with Buck on this. Maybe it’s a little too soon to be dating. Besides, he’s got a kid at home, doesn’t that complicate things?”

“I didn’t say it was too soon.” Buck protested too sharply. “I just think it’s in poor taste to be hitting on a guy when he’s in the middle of a call.”

“Didn’t you frequently talk to your girlfriend while actively treating a patient?”

He ignored Hen’s excellent point in favor of watching Eddie return to his post.

“Sorry about that. Old army buddy. I haven’t seen him since I got back but we’re gonna get together with some of the old squad later this week to catch up.” He looked so excited (as excited as ‘Professional-Mode’ Eddie could be) that Buck didn’t have the heart to question him further. He used the same excuse to explain why we was virtually silent on the ride back to the station. It certainly had nothing to do with the curious way his heart tightened at the thought that Eddie might be ready to date after the passing of his wife.

Eddie would never describe himself as a ‘social butterfly’, in even the broadest sense of the term, but there was something about being in a specific environment that brought out his louder personality. Sitting on the couch, drinking beer, and half-watching a game while taking turns swapping stories about the old days and where life took them after (that is to say, standing and cheering when there was noise from the television and virtually ignoring the screen otherwise).

For once, he found he had stories to tell that didn’t leave him riddled with guilt. He could talk about the people he’d saved at work, and the daring rescues Buck decided to pull off that Eddie had to save him from. A few of the guys had seen Buck on the news but had no idea Eddie was there. Thoughts of all the people they’d lost – and almost lost – in bombings had silenced the room for a minute. And then someone scored a goal and they were all on their feet, cheering and sloshing drinks like nothing had happened.

For a few hours, Eddie was given the gift of forgetting that he had anything to be ashamed about and just enjoy the life he had now. So, of course, when the boys invited him out a week later, he was quick to accept their invitation.

“Sorry, I can’t do game night on Tuesday, I’m going out for drinks with the guys.” He declined Chimney’s offer of dinner while they dressed in the locker room before their weekend shift. “Buck, you’re welcome to join us if you don’t want to be the odd man out.” As much as he loved his sister, Eddie knew that his friend was less than keen on being the only person at dinner without a date.

Not that he and Buck would go as a date, but it always seemed easier when they could pair off in whatever way that meant to them.

“I don’t want to impose.” Buck began to protest but Eddie waved him off.

“It’s not imposing if I’m inviting you.”

Still, the man shook his head.

“Nah, I actually have plans on Tuesday anyways so I won’t be going to Maddie’s anyways.”

If he were paying closer attention, he might notice the way Buck avoided his eyes as he spoke – a sure sign that he was being less than truthful.

“You were just going to not show up and leave me as the odd man out? I, at least, gave you fair warning.” He tossed his uniformed shirt at Buck’s head, which he caught only after it hit him on the side of his face. Of course, that meant Eddie had to cross the locker room in only his slacks to retrieve the clothing item, leaving him standing next to Buck, shirtless, and all too aware of their close proximity.

“Have fun without me.” He saw the twinkle behind those blue eyes of something unspoken but instead of asking, he pulled the shirt out of his hands and pulled it over his head in a smooth motion on his way out the door.

Buck watched him leave with, breathless in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. And something in his gut that squeezed hard at the thought of Eddie spending time with other people. Which was ridiculous. Eddie was allowed to have friends that he didn’t know about. Yes, they were best friends but that didn’t mean they owed each other a free pass to their entire lives. He’d just have to get over this jealousy.

“Why’d you lie to Eddie?” He flew against the lockers at the sound of Hen’s voice at his side.

“Why-why do you think I lied to Eddie?”

Her incredulous gaze was nearly as intimidating as Athena’s (had she been getting pointers?). “Because you don’t have plans on Tuesday. Why did you tell him you did?”

Was he that obvious? Could everyone see that he was jealous and he wanted to sulk at home rather than spend the evening with his sister, distracted and wondering what Eddie was up to?

“I didn’t want him to feel bad. If he’s not going to Maddie’s, then I’m not going to be the odd one out – like he said.”

Hen perched herself beside him against the lockers, her scrutiny turning soft. “He invited you to join him, you could have gone out with his army buddies. Is there a reason you didn’t want to?”

He didn’t want to be a burden, he’d have nothing in common with them, he didn’t want to feel like an obligation, Eddie deserved a night out with friends who weren’t him.

“It just didn’t seem like my thing.” Drinking at a bar didn’t seem like his thing? Hen didn’t have to voice her question but he shrugged it off regardless. “I’ll probably just hit the gym and do some laundry. I’m way behind anyways.” He pushed off the wall of lockers before she could question his lies any further.

Of course, he hated lying to his friends. It seemed better than admitting that he was feeling petty and jealous – like a child – over something so silly.

No matter how guilty he felt for the way he was acting, it still hurt to see Eddie strolling into the station on Wednesday morning with a smile on his face. He looked brighter than he had in a long time (since Shannon, probably). And was there a bounce in his step? Surely, he was imagining it; but he did seem happy. That was all that mattered, right? As long as Eddie was happy, he’d learn to get over his jealousy and find other friends to occupy his time.

Or perhaps he’d just be alone forever. That seemed like a likely alternative. He would adjust, adapt; he’d figure it out and everything would be fine.

Four months later, he wanted to smack his past self in the face for thinking that he could have a normal, well-adjusted reaction to anything. He was the guy who overreacted, who felt things so deeply and blew everything out of proportion.

Of course, he would see Eddie finding other friends as a sign that there was something wrong with him, and thus should isolate himself from everyone in his life. The problem was: Eddie hadn’t changed – not really. Sure, he went out with the guys a few nights a month and always came back with a smile on his face and a few stories to tell that Buck got to hear with the rest of the crew. But he kept up their weekly game night, and pizza night, and their trip to the baseball game that he told himself was out of pity for the expense of the tickets (but really, he was just excited to spend some time with his friend).

Eddie was his usual self, it was Buck who started declining game night or ending pizza night early, or feigning illness when Eddie told him about adult night at the observatory. He was the one who was pushing his friend away because some selfish part of him couldn’t handle not having someone’s attention 24/7. The more he told himself of all the reasons he was wrong, the more convinced he became of his need to isolate.

He should have known better.

“Eddie? It’s midnight, what are you doing here?” He groggily answered the door, stumbling when his mind finally caught up with him. “What happened to Christopher?”

“He’s fine.” The man was quick to put his hands out in a calming motion, walking straight past him and into the apartment without invitation – not that Eddie ever needed an invitation. “He’s at a sleepover. I wanted to talk to you.”

He’d figured it out. He must have. Eddie knew that Buck was acting like a dick and wanted to cut ties completely. Why did he have to do it in the middle of the night when it was already so dark and cold?

“You see me every day.” He closed the door despite his own instinct to run away.

“This isn’t really a work conversation.” There it was: the truth.

“I need a drink.” Buck was circling the bar and reaching for the fridge before Eddie could protest. He turned back with two water bottles in his hand (a force of habit, he supposed) and slid the other to the man taking his usual seat on the island.

It was such a minor thing but Buck had always found it amusing that even though he had a perfectly good table a few feet over, the two of them always gravitated towards the kitchen bar/island – he couldn’t remember which. Perhaps there was something to that, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“So what is it?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you.” Two minutes in and Eddie was already nervously picking at the label of his bottle. This was going to hurt. “You’ve been distant lately; cancelling plans, lying to avoid spending time together. I appreciate that you still make time to see Christopher but you and I haven’t hung out in months. What’s up?”

After the last time he and Eddie split up – that is to say, they were separated as teammates – he’d felt so guilty about his favourite kid getting caught in the crossfire. So, even if Eddie never wanted to see him again, he was going to do all he could to still be there for Christopher. Although, it seemed especially cruel to make Buck confess all his wrongdoings instead of just yelling at him and walking away.

“There’s nothing up, I’ve just been busy.” Why he bothered to try and lie to his best friend would forever remain a mystery.

“You’ve never been able to lie to me, Buck, I don’t know why you’re doing it now but I’m worried.”

“Worried?” This was not the response he was expecting at all. What would Eddie have to be worried about?

“I’m worried that I’m losing my best friend and I don’t know why.”

There were moments in a person’s life that struck as lightning – hard and fast and completely unexpected. And there were some that rolled like thunder – highly anticipated but when it finally arrived, nothing could prepare for the aftershock. Buck finally understood the feeling of releasing a long-held breath only to feel the sensations trickle down his body, leaving pins and needles in their wake.

“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore.”

No puzzle pieces formed together, there was no sense of relief after letting go of this realization, but the moment the words left his mouth, they rang with truth. He didn’t want to see Eddie as a best friend, vying for time and caring from the sidelines of his life. He wanted to be in Eddie’s life. He wanted something new. He wanted-

“You don’t want to be friends anymore, what?”

“No!” He stumbled over his own shoes in an attempt to recover from his own misstep. “Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

“What other way is there, Buck?” He followed as Eddie instinctively stepped away, confusion and hurt marring his face. That suddenly, very kissable face.

One step at a time.

“The way where we are something other than friends. Something romantic.” He ventured, drawing out each word as they formed in his mind.

“Something…” Eddie’s voice trailed off and Buck was gifted with the display of emotions that crossed his face. Confusion, searching, conclusion, understanding, realization, surprise, and finally a soft, shaking “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Buck tried to smile in a comforting manner but it has difficult to concentrate when the air had left the room. “Is that okay?”

There had always been an understanding between the two men: words were not necessary for them to know what the other needed. They didn’t need to talk to come up with a plan to rescue someone from a three-story house. They didn’t need to talk to offer comfort after a call went badly and all they wanted was not to be alone. They didn’t need to talk to know when to pounce on Chimney when he had overplayed his turn on the game console. They knew each other – complimented one another in their silence – which made them an amazing team and wonderful friends.

In the silence following Buck’s question, he didn’t dare try to read Eddie’s expression, for fear of breaking his heart too soon.

“I-yeah it’s okay but,” Buck closed his eyes against the world. “I don’t know that I feel the same.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” His mouth retreated from the conversation before his feet could make a decision. “But that’s why I’ve been…yeah.” When his feet finally caught up with his beating heart, they made their way towards the door. “So now that we’ve settled that, I’ll see you at work.”

Just get him out now. Do whatever you need to be alone. Get out. Find the silence so you can put yourself back together.

“Buck, shouldn’t we talk about th-”

“Nope.” He squeezed the handle to steady his shaking hands. “No, I think we’ve covered everything.” With a strength he didn’t possess, Buck opened the front door and stepped aside for Eddie to leave. “I’ll talk to you at work.”

He could hear the slow shuffling of Eddie’s steps as he made his way towards the door, stopping in front of Buck. They had never needed words to know what the other was saying (there had been days when they had been completely off and needed to make amends but with time, their skills had improved) and with just the steady breaths between them, Buck acknowledged Eddie’s apology and listened as he walked out the door.

It wasn’t until the engine of his truck roared out of the parking lot, that Buck allowed himself to close the door and wipe a hand over his face to clear the emotions he’d delicately kept at bay.

Eddie found himself numbly driving anywhere but home, his mind racing with the onslaught of realizations he’d been handed in such a short amount of time. How had he not seen it before? How had he not noticed the signs? How had he not understood how important that moment was? How had he not found the words to say he felt the same?

With nothing awaiting him at home, he drove for what felt like hours until he finally pulled up to his front door, feeling no less certain of what he should do next. Even so close to the safety of his bedroom, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to walk inside, choosing instead to lean against the steering wheel until the sun came up.

When he found himself burdened with so many conflicting thoughts, the only person he wanted to talk to was suddenly the only person he couldn’t share his fears with. What else was there to do but keep his emotions close to his chest until he could sort them out. Or maybe he’d make an appointment with Frank – that’s what he was for, right? – and see what an objective mind could come up with.

For now, he had to find the strength to go inside and get ready for work.

Because naturally he and Buck would be scheduled to work together the day after such an unsettling interaction. The universe would never give him an opportunity to adjust to his new mindset and perhaps come up with what he wanted to say to Buck. His friend deserved an answer – or perhaps closure – but he had nothing to give. No amount of sitting in his driveway with the engine turned off, would give him the words he needed to find before he was set to face Buck again.

Why is this a problem?

That question had drifted through his mind over again as the night slowly faded to daylight. He’d known for some time that Buck meant something significant to him. Perhaps it was in the role of best friend, or trusted partner, and occasionally he laid in bed wondering if he might mean something different – something romantic.

The thought of dating Buck hadn’t scared him the way he expected it might. In fact, he’d been circling around the daydream with startling frequency of late. So why, at the pivotal moment – the moment when he might actually get to fulfill those dreams – did he lie and say that he didn’t feel the same way? It was like he was predestined to break his own heart at every turn; first, he hurt his wife, then his son, then his best friend. But unlike with Shannon, Eddie had a chance to make up for his mistakes with the other two people who meant the world to him. He could spend the rest of his life apologizing to Christopher for leaving by showing up every single day. And he could apologize to Buck by…

By telling him the truth.

That the sudden confession had startled him and his brain hadn’t actually registered what he was saying until he was down the block. That he very much reciprocated, but he’d screwed up – like he always did (maybe he’d leave that part out).

He had to try, at least.

Besides, this was Buck. They always came back to each other; they always forgave each other.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Eddie blocked the other man’s path as they approached the station together. It hadn’t been difficult for Eddie to beat him to work and then all he had to do was wait. “Buck, I just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk, Eddie.” Buck side stepped his partner but Eddie caught him again. “Not right now. We have to focus on work.”

He’d never seen the man so pale and small. He was carefully balancing his work bag on one hunched shoulder, his neck and head cast down but even then, Eddie could see how tired his eyes looked, feel how cold his skin felt from exhaustion. Had either of them slept?

“What about after work? Come over and we’ll talk.”

“Talk about what?” It wasn’t quite a shout but they were quickly drifting into the territory of ‘not work appropriate levels of conversation’. “You told me you don’t feel the same – that’s fine. I just need a little time.” When Eddie moved to block his escape again, Buck looked into Eddie’s eyes properly for the first time all day and whispered “Please.”

Eddie let him pass.

Their shift together was uncomfortable to say the least. Buck barely spoke to anyone and his avoidance of Eddie was obvious to anyone who accidentally walked through the cold air between them. Eddie didn’t try to engage with him again but too often, he caught himself staring across the table at his friend, begging for some sign that this – like every other horrible thing between them – would pass.

As they packed up at the end of the day, he watched Buck sidestep Chimney’s attempts to engage in conversation, and nearly ran into Hen when she approached him – now doubt some tag team strategy to get the story from both parties at once.

Unfortunately for the paramedics, neither of the men were up for airing their dirty laundry. No, Eddie saved that for drinks with his army buddies a few nights later.

“So when are we actually going to meet this ‘Buck’ of yours?” Ian meant well (as well as he could when teasing his friends about his obvious crush). “I thought you were going to introduce us.”

Eddie stared into the bottom of his glass of ginger ale, wondering if it held any of the answers he so desperately needed. Instead, he downed the rest of his soda in one gulp. “Buck isn’t mine.”

“Ooh.” A few voices from the table echoed Sam’s ribbing. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that.” He couldn’t exactly blame his loose tongue on the alcohol but he was sorely tempted to find a better excuse to share his feelings than simply ‘he needed someone to talk to’.

Like friends?

“Buck told me that he had feelings for me and I told him that I wasn’t sure I felt the same (even though that’s a lie). And now he’s freezing me out because I hurt him, but the only way I can make it up to him is if I talk to him. I don’t know how to make it right.”

It was an odd sensation to feel a weight lift off his chest – he was so used to carrying it all alone until he’d come to LA and even then, it was a hard habit to break – but confessing his frustrations to a room of receptive people did give him a sense of relief.

“Wait, hold on.” Ian shook his head. “You and Buck aren’t a couple? Could have fooled me, the way you go on about him.” Mostly receptive.

The trouble was: he wanted them to be a couple, and though he wasn’t sure Buck was still on board, he knew there was the potential to get everything he wanted. There was only one person who could get them there and it wasn’t any of the men sitting around the table in the dimly lit bar.

“We are not talking about my love life – or lack thereof – anymore.” He declared, rising to his feet. “The next rounds’ on me.” He was still waiting for their order when he felt a hand clap his shoulder and he jumped despite himself.

“Sorry,” Sam hissed in sympathy. “I should know better. I just wanted to say: fix it.” He grabbed half of the drinks as they were slid across the bar for Eddie to follow suit. “Do what you need to do to be happy – even if that means locking your boy in a closet until you sort it out.” Eddie held his balance as Sam lightly elbowed him with a smirk. “You talk about Buck like he’s someone special to you. Don’t lose that.”

It was Sam’s words that led Buck to open his door after midnight for the second time that week, to find an anxious Eddie eager to enter his apartment.

“What do you want, Eddie?” Without waiting for permission, the man walked through to the kitchen bar and began to lightly pace back and forth. He looked nervous, almost scared. What could he possibly have to say that was so terrifying? Was he fleeing the city because he couldn’t handle being around Buck any longer? No, that wasn’t it. Though his heart was still healing, he knew Eddie was not one to run away from his problems. Not that Buck was a problem. Was he?

“I want us to talk.” The man declared as he continued to run a hole in the hardwood floor. “And I don’t want you to kick me out again.”

Buck knew he’d been rash the other night in sending Eddie away before he could continue but the other option was listening to platitudes about their friendship (which he cherished greatly) and maintaining a professional attitude and he just couldn’t bring himself to hear it then.

The rest – the confrontation in the parking lot, the icing out – it had been to protect his heart while he readjusted the level of hope he was allowed to carry. He just needed time. Yet, here Eddie was, pushing his way through.

Just like you do.

“Fine.” He closed the door with just enough gracefulness to appease his grumpy neighbours. “Talk.”

Eddie stopped pacing when Buck approached. “No, we’re going to talk to each other.” He really didn’t want to talk about this awful situation between them. In fact, if they never spoke again, he would be perfectly content. He cursed his own traitorous heart for calling him a liar, then.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” He took the stool across from his friend when Eddie motioned for him to sit. Even now, it seemed important that the two of them never sat at the table.

“First, I want to ask you a question. Please be honest.” As much as his mind cried ‘no! You don’t owe him anything!’ his heart whispered ‘give him every chance’.

“Okay.”

“You said you were pulling away because you wanted to be something other than friends. Why?”

Buck couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped. “Why was I pulling away, or why do I want to be something other than friends? Because if I’m being honest, I’m trying to rethink that last one.” He silenced the voice shouting ‘liar’.

“No, why were you pulling away? What changed?”

His immediate response was to answer with ‘nothing’. To confess that nothing had changed except he suddenly came to his senses, even if those senses had gotten him hurt. But then, he let himself think back to the weeks and months when Eddie wasn’t around as often. When he suddenly had other people he would rather be with instead of him.

“I got jealous.” He confessed quietly. “You had your army buddies and you were spending less time with me. At first, I thought I was just jealous that you had other friends. It’s been just the two of us for some time and suddenly you weren’t always there.” He’d tried so hard to convince himself that he was just being selfish the way he always was; that he was simply meant to grow up and get over it. “Then I suddenly realized I wanted to be there with your friends – get to know them – but I didn’t want to be one of them.” Eddie’s eyes were too soft and bright to stare into any longer so he found a place on the counter between them that felt like neutral territory.

“I want you all to myself and I know that’s selfish but I want all of you.” Saying it out loud was meant to feel like relief but all Buck found was a pain in the center of his chest. “Seeing you and not knowing what to do: it was too hard. So I stepped back. And now that it’s all out there,” (And boy, was it all out there.) “I just need some time to readjust. That’s all I need.”

What he ‘needed’ was an infinite list of ever-changing desires, but several of the constants included Eddie and Christopher in his life. What he needed: was to put the genie back in the bottle and never realize his feelings in the first place. What he needed was to be happy.

“It’s not selfish.” He barely heard Eddie’s whispered words but he looked up to familiar, shining eyes. “Or if it is, then I’m selfish, too.”

It wasn’t quite like he’d heard a record scratch in his mind but the world most definitely stopped moving for a moment as his words set into place.

“You-what?”

Eddie reached out his hand but hesitated, placing it just between them. An offering instead of a command: Buck could answer if he wanted, when he was ready.

“When you told me…what you told me,” that was certainly one way of putting it. “I panicked.” Buck didn’t echo his nervous laughter but he did nothing to deter it, too lost in absorbing all of the new information.

“I thought maybe you meant it some other way, or I was dreaming, or I wasn’t good enough for you.” How could Eddie ever believe that he wasn’t good enough? Even if this was his long-winded way of letting him down gently, Buck made a promise to never let him believe that again. “So I told you that I wasn’t sure how I felt but that was a lie.”

The more Eddie spoke, the more Buck allowed his heart to take on just a little more hope. “And I wanted to tell you the truth but I could never get you alone.” Because Buck had made a point of walking in the other direction whenever Eddie entered the room, entirely born out of self-preservation that was, apparently, unfounded.

“You know my friends, they thought we were dating.”

“Wait, really?”

His laugh had elements of the joy he knew Eddie was capable of and it gave him permission to relax against the bar just a little bit. “Yup. They kept asking when they were going to meet the guy I couldn’t stop talking about. And then they told me to do what I need to do to be happy.” Eddie sighed in conclusion. “So I came here.”

Buck tried to speak a few times but no words ever came. He had let himself hope for this outcome too often, but it never felt like this. His heart felt as though it would burst from his chest and his ears were ringing like he was flying through high altitude. His eyes darting across Eddie’s face over and over, looking for a hint that he was being insincere but all he saw was the same terrified and shy desire that he assumed was in his own expression.

“So you like me?” Buck ventured.

“Yeah, Buck.” Eddie chuckled in return. “I like you.”

Good. “And I like you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And your friends think we’re dating.”

“They may have hinted at it, yes.”

It seemed a pity that Eddie’s hand was resting between them, completely unaccompanied, so Buck linked their fingers.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

It felt right, feeling Eddie’s thumb gently swipe across his skin and squeeze their fingers with all the joy they couldn’t express for fear of breaking their quiet bubble of hope.

“Honestly, I want to kiss you right now.” The shiver of anticipation was one he’d been waiting for, for a very long time. “But I’m also very tired. I haven’t really slept since that night.”

Buck found himself simultaneously relieved and guilty to learn that he hadn’t been alone in his sleeplessness so instead, he pulled Eddie to his feet.

“Do you have anywhere to be in the morning?” When Eddie shook his head, he smiled. “My bed’s pretty big. What do you say to sleeping – just sleeping – and then see about the rest of it in the morning.”

Without hesitation, he melted into Eddie’s smile. “That sounds perfect.”

--

He had done much scarier things in his lifetime – hell, he’d gone to war when he had a newborn son waiting for him at home – but somehow, walking into the pub with his boyfriend by his side was what really got him sweating.

“Hey,” Buck bumped his shoulder with an encouraging smile the way he had since the day they met. “it’s gonna go great.”

It didn’t entirely ease his anxiety but he also had the distinct realization that he could handle whatever happened because he wouldn’t have to handle it alone.

“I know.”

He spotted the group easily enough, the group of boisterous men in the corner booth, exchanging loud war stories and wiping up their sloshed drinks (because they were raised to be polite young men, thank you, ma’am). The moment they caught sight of Eddie they waved him over and the two made their way to join the platoon.

“Hey guys, I see you started drinking without me.” He greeted the men with a smile.

“Well Kelley started around noon.” Ian shoved his friend’s shoulder. “So unless you wanted to skip…whatever it is you two were doing before this…”

“We were at work.” Buck replied quickly with a mischievous smirk to his cheeks. The man really was shameless, even when he was telling the truth. “Hi, I’m Buck,” he extended his hand to the closest person – Sam – who took it immediately. “it’s nice to meet you all.”

Thankful for his boyfriend’s ability to charm the pants off of anyone he met (though the pants-loosing was a super power he reserved for one person in particular), Eddie allowed himself to relax into the evening. “Buck these are some of the men I was on tour with. This is Sam, Ian, Harry, Erik, and Cole.” Buck greeted them each with a polite nod and handshake. “Guys, this is Buck.”

“Please tell me you two are finally having sex.” Ian shook Buck’s hand enthusiastically, laughing at the double take from both men. “Eddie here has been mooning over you for months.”

If it were possible for the floor to swallow him whole, he would pray for an earthquake. The knowing look on Buck’s face, paired with the snickers from around the table, told him that he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for some time.

“Mooning?” Buck teased as they took their seats next to one another. “Eddie, I had no idea you mooned.” He was well aware that they both mooned over one another (as evidenced by the amount of times Chimney had asked them to stop looking at each other while they were on duty before they were arrested for indecent exposure) but he didn’t correct his boyfriend.

“Suddenly I’m feeling very down to earth.” He rolled his eyes at Buck’s faux indignation before they turned their attention to the rest of the table. “So, what were we talking about?”

Erik waved him off without waiting for the others to respond. “Doesn’t matter. We want to talk to Buck here. I bet there’s some things he knows about Eddie that we’d like to know.”

He knew before he asked Buck to accompany him to guys’ night, that the boys would latch on to him and search for blackmail material. Fortunately, he came prepared.

“And I know there’s some things about these guys that Buck would find hilarious. Like, guess who got caught sneaking out of the captain’s quarters after someone set off the fire alarm. And they were naked. And so was the captain.”

It wasn’t difficult to discern the culprit from the blush in his cheeks, but Buck still snorted at Cole with a mixture of shock and approval.

“I was fired a few months into being a probie because I got caught stealing the firetruck to have sex. Twice.”

If there was one thing Eddie should have known, it was that Buck was as shameless as he was handsome. Of course, he would reveal stories about his life that even his partner hadn’t heard before.

“You said I couldn’t kiss you goodbye in the parking lot because we had to be professional!”

“Because I got fired for having sex in a firetruck.” Buck matched his indignant energy with a smile. “I’m not going to risk getting fired again.”

“It’s a kiss, Buck, we’re not going to get fired for a kiss (not in LA, anyways).”

“Well I know that if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop. And the things I want to do to you would get us fired – even in LA.”

“You are both very horny and very sweet.” Eddie shoved his boyfriend lightly, to accompany his hidden smile of giddy joy. This thing between them was only a few weeks old and they were still learning what would change and what would stay exactly the same. So far, it had been nothing but happy adjustments and stolen kisses. Eddie knew exactly what Buck meant about never wanting to stop – and he hoped that feeling never went away.

“I feel so sorry for your coworkers.” They snapped to Sam, taking in the snickers from the other men as they came back to reality. “I don’t know how they get anything done with you two like this constantly.”

“They don’t.” The pair replied in unison, earning another round of laughter from the table.

Eddie recovered first. “Enough about us, we’re here to spend a night among friends, so whose gonna by us a drink?”

Truth be told: Eddie didn’t mind the sniggering or taunting because it all came from a place of love – a place he wasn’t sure he’d ever find like this. He had his son, his family, his friends, his partner, and even if it wasn’t perfect, there was certainly hope.

[alchemicalterror]

Self-implemented Parole

[ Below is a transcript of an RP between @askanarky​ and ol’ Jonny boy, involving Anarky’s breakout and aftermath. WIth special guest @riddlesandqueries​ and @echoandquery​

Trigger warnings: Adolescent Homelessness, swearing. ]

Fuck. Shit. God dammit. Fuck, Lonnie swears to himself, couldn’t stay hidden for two days, could he?

Here he is, leaning against the wall of the dentist’s-office-turned-failed-comedy-club-turned-pirate-radio-station-slash-hideout he’d been spending the day at. Beside him’s a wooden baseball bat, blood-red paint dripping down the business end, three posters, and an overfilled olive drab backpack absolutely covered in patches and safety pins. In his hands, a box of old clothes and records.

Bitterly, Lonnie wonders how much weight he’d lost. Six and a half months was a lot longer- or maybe shorter?- than he’d fully realized.

God, why’s he even humoring the old man? Ten bucks and he could already be gone. He’d find another shitty landlord to blackmail for an equally shitty studio apartment, and life’d go on like he never left.

...But then again, that wasn’t him. And plus, he owes Jon a lot and did kinda call him ‘dad,' and plus, he couldn’t feasibly cut him out entirely unless he left Gotham for good, and why would he do that, he’s got work to continue-

”Fuck.” Lonnie mutters under his breath, shifting his weight to his other leg.

"Fuck." Jon mutters, pulling his coat in tighter. He doesn't know jack shit about hijacked radio towers, and while his car is an unremarkable, beat-up old junker that he's had for years - it runs fine, there's no noises or weird smells, but the body has seen better days - why run into a headache with traffic, gas mileage, potentially being seen at an intersection with a recently escaped convict...?

'Course, nothing could hide how tall he is. And god damn it, it's April, it's supposed to be warm....

Jonathan mutters against the cold in vague irritation, gravitating towards the next set of charity drop-off boxes in vain hopes of actually tracking down the runt. Jesus, he should've asked for directions. At least he's in good shape.

"Me an' my motherfuckin' ide--" Pause. Squint, at someone who fits the stature in a beat up black hoodie, with a box.

"....Kid?"

The good thing about oversized hoodies is that, if you’re drowning in them enough, it can almost conceal how high you jump when something calls an epithet that can apply to you. Immediately, Lonnie crouches to quickly, but gently place his box down and grab his baseball bat in his place, then raises himself up into half of a batter’s stance at the source of the-

Wait. Tall man, absolutely orange hair, in a thrift-store jacket and blue jeans. Of fucking course.

”Jesus Christ,” he half-mouths. He lets his stance relax and his arms hang limply down in an exaggerated 'I-don’t-wanna-be-here' stance. “‘Ay.” Lonnie’s stage voice is remarkable, if a bit higher than his normal growl.

Jonathan grins, a bit, despite himself. Baseball bat? Good lad.

He lifts a hand in a wave, chuckling. "Nice to see you ain't without means, boy." Jon murmurs, nodding at the weapon. "Half kickin' myself I didn't get directions when abouts I could, I been walking around back alleys all afternoon."

"Legs could use a break, and I saw a beaten-down dive up the block some, folks don't glance at your face even when you're ordering in places like that. You wanna coffee or somethin' before we ship out?"

“....” Lonnie turns away for half a second, letting a puff of air escape his clenched teeth. “Hey, you said you didn’t need them.”

Hypocritical, coming from him. He’s at least trying to be a little friendly, through the obvious voice crack and the constantly-correcting tone. “...Fine, I guess? I mean, I’ve got what...” He backs away and unzips the front pocket of the backpack on the ground. A cheap leather wallet spills out (along with six separate embroidered circle-As in various shades of crimson.) He unfolds it and squints between the pockets, “....twelve...? Dollars on me? That’s enough for, like, a sandwich.”

"Come off it kid, I got paid yesterday, you ain't gotta spend what little you got on a sandwich. Save it, s'good to have bus money." And with that Jon turns, and waves Lonnie follow him. Tall as he is, he's long ago adopted a sort of ambling gait to make it easier for other people to keep up with his long stride.

The diner is, as estimated, utterly apathetic to the arrival of both Jonathan and Lonnie, save for the motions of seating them both. No odd looks are given to Lonnie's box of things, nor -- if he brought it along -- his bat. He was half-heartedly offered the opportunity to drop it in the umbrella rack, if he wanted to.

Jon takes a booth with a high back, and turns his attention toward the menu.

Lonnie, in fact, does put his baseball bat in the umbrella rack (only in Gotham,) and swings himself up onto the booth, squishing himself into the corner and placing his box under the table. His backpack’s placed right beside him.

He’s already small- especially compared to Jonathan- but he seems determined to make himself even smaller. Lonnie hunches over the table and scrutinizes the menu with one exposed eye, rapping his free hand on the table. Jonathan receives the occasional upwards glance from him.

Coffee. And a sandwich. Jon picks both, mentally placing his order, and sets the menu down.

"...After we order, I got some things to ask, arright?" He murmurs, keeping his voice low; the staff might not care, but patrons could. Best keep mumbly.

"Dinner's on me whatever you got to say, upfront. Ain't contingent on you givin' me answers you think I'm gonna wanna hear."

(The waitress does drift by, uninterested and unimpressed, to take their orders.)

Watching the waitress approach means Lonnie didn’t have the space to answer Jon in full; Instead, he flashes a thumbs up his way.

BLT, cherry Coke. Lonnie deserved something sweet, he thought. His menu comes down after Jon’s, and he doesn’t fully turn to place his order. He does, however, have the common sense for manners; “I’d like an egg BLT and a cherry Coke, please.”

"And I'd like a tuna sub and a black coffee, please, miss. Thank you kindly."

Their orders are noted down, and she drifts on to her next engagement - and Jon leans on the table, looking Lonnie over. Where to start. "....You got a place to stay?"

“I’ll get one.” Lonnie murmurs, implying that the answer’s actually no. “Old landlord probably won’t let me back in, not like I was actually paying for my old apartment anyway...” He murmurs as he passes the saltshaker between his hands. "...Right." Jonathan says, nodding slowly. "...If you need a place to crash a li'l while while you work him over, y'know - I got a guest room. Ain't got much more than a bed and a couple boxes and a desk, but it's dry an' the door locks." "...And like, if puttin' out on your own for a place don't work, I don't mind if you stay, right?" .... Hm. The saltshaker rests in his left hand.

“...You’re serious? C’mon, your job’s probably already batter-fried as is, if anyone finds out-”

Lonnie doesn’t trail off, per se, more than he just lets his throat close a little. “...Really? You really don’t-“

He’d be an absolute idiot to decline, but there had to be some kind of catch - ? - but Jon’s not that much of a jerkass.... "Kid, much as I'm sure you could find someone whose arm you could twist for a place, it don't sit right with me to just leave you in an alley to do that. I got the room, and - well, Arkham can just deal." Jonathan’s tone is flat.

"What they don't know ain't gonna hurt my career." Lonnie puts a fist to his rapidly-splitting mouth and exhales sharply. “‘Guess that is true,” he answers, then shakes two fingers at Jon. 

“...Shit, thanks, I guess? I didn’t... really expect you to show real concern, holy shit...” "What, you think it was just for appearances?"  Jon chuckles, genial. "Naw, son, I try to actually care 'bout the folks I work with, didn't get into this business on accounta I don't care about people."

"Look, after Dinner I'll help you carry shit, since I left the car at home." “Okay.” Lonnie doesn’t particularly feel like pushing it any more, so he doesn’t. 

“...How’d I not notice this place before?” He asks, mostly to himself. Or maybe he had, and he’d forgotten about it. Was it even worth forgetting?  Ech, everything was so overwhelming. As their food and coffee comes around, Jonathan turns his attention to the rogue chat, securing something, before starting to eat. Tuna melts are truly the mac and cheese of the sandwich world, and hard to get wrong.

[ Dr_J_C ] - Hey, Eddie, you on. [ E?Nygma ] - Yes? [ Dr_J_C ]  - You got a cab company you trust to keep their yaps shut [ E?Nygma ] - My henchwomen. [ Dr_J_C ]  - ...Think they'd be willing to come pick up me and a runaway? Wound up cross town and the kid's got luggage [ E?Nygma ] - Only one way to find out, really.

[ DM: E?Nygma to E&Q: Ladies? ] [ DM  E&Q to E?Nygma: [Q] You need something, Ed? ] [ DM: E?Nygma to E&Q: Yes, if you have the time tonight. Dr Crane is asking me about securing private transit that doesn't talk too much, if you catch my drift. Since you're both the pair I trust most on the matter, I thought I'd ask if you'd be willing to go fetch him and cart him wherever he needs to go. He's not in a stabbing mood, so it shouldn't be risky. ] [ DM  E&Q to E?Nygma: [Q] Not in a stabbing mood? Color me surprised.. but sure thing, Boss! [E] Dr. Crane requires transit? We aren’t busy, so we’ll be glad to pick him up, when needed. Anything that’s said will stay in the car, don’t you worry. ] [ DM: E?Nygma to E&Q: Peachy. Make him buy you dinner, huh? I'll forward the address: you know what to do if he starts giving you trouble, and where to send the bill. Thanks so much. ]

[ E?Nygma ] - Good news, Jonny, they'll do it. Have an address? [ Dr_J_C ]  - Yeah, hangon.... Down town, Eighth and Tuppence. The shitty diner.

[ DM: E?Nygma to E&Q: : Eighth and Tuppence, the "shitty diner", as he put it. ]

[ E?Nygma ] - I told them to make you buy them dinner. 

[ Dr_J_C ]  -  Yeah, sure, doesn't have to be from here. We just got our food, so - give it an hour? [ DM: E?Nygma to E&Q: He's asked for you to come in an hour, so you have time to get ready. ]

[ E?Nygma ] - Done and done, don't leave them waiting.

Before eating, Lonnie removes the top slice of bread from each sandwich half and salts the (perfectly over-medium) egg on top, then slides the salt to the other side of the table. He almost chokes on his first bite. God, he missed real food. "...Arkham food, huh." Jonathan chuckles, humorlessly. "Shit, every time I've gotten outta there, pizza boxes have looked appetizing."

"Eddie's henches are gonna be givin' us a ride. They ain't snitches, and I fancy our chances in one'a their cars than on foot."

“...Tall punk one n’ a short one?” Lonnie clarifies through a mouthful of BLT. Gulp. “Nice.”

“...Spent his ketchup money on Walgreens eyeliner and a burger. Should probably get online and tell ‘im once I get home, huh.” He pauses, putting down his sandwich for a second. “I told you the ketchup thing, right?”

Jonathan grins, lifting his coffee in a weird sort of salute. "Sure did. Bet you made with Eddie, right? Eyeliner and a bite's a good cause, then. He chomps down half his sandwich before turning his attention properly to coffee.

"...Good-ish news, the Asylum is pretty sure I didn't help you break out." "So they prob'ly ain't gonna assume I came got you, neither."

“Thank god,” Lonnie comments. “Like, not just ‘cuz your job’s still safe, that’s great, but god, I didn’t spend three weeks figuring out like, 80 million people’s schedules for a friend in a high place to get the stick, it’s my damn credit.” He pauses for a sip of soda. “...Is that the right metaphor? Doesn’t matter. ‘S.... nice y’aint in that deep shit.”

Another pause. “Jesus Christ, I just said ‘y’ain’t’ in complete earnest, what the fuck are you doing to me?” Lonnie laughs, leaning his head back and pulling down one eyelid. Jonathan barks a cheerful laugh, and even that is ignored by the utter apathy that is a back-street diner in Gotham. He shakes his head until it trickles down to a snicker and, grinning, drains the rest of his coffee before his attention returns to the perfectly adequate tuna melt.

"Naww, they had me doin' damage control, after talkin' to me a bit and nosing some at my notes. Shit, I didn't know a damn thing about your plans, and it showed, son, so oughta be fine."

"New's being shitty about it anyways, though, m'sorry about that." “I~’m aware,” Lonnie chimes rather sardonically, waiting to swallow this time. “Eh, GCN’s a bunch of corporatist bullcrap anyway. They don’t think I’m a real dude, I know they aren’t a real news station, cancels out.” It really doesn’t cancel out, but the shrug indicates either he’s actually fine or he doesn’t particularly want to talk about it.

Jonathan slowly nods, and makes a mental tick to get a tee-shirt made inviting people to physically fight him if they want to call Lonnie a girl. That's a dadly thing to do, right?

"...So,” Jon starts, slowly, “Y'all called me dad."

Groan. “Uh, I’m sorry?” Lonnie shrugs to accompany the nonapology— not like it was worth applogizing for. “Slip of the tongue, like callin’ a teacher ‘mom,’ y’know?”

He sucks the rest of his Coke down and sets the tall plastic glass back on the table. Jon laughs, sitting back himself and uncrossing his arms. "Dunno where all I said I was upset about it, son." His grin is lazy and easy, and he just shrugs.

"Y'all see me as a father figure?" ... Does he? ... “I mean— you’re what, two and a half times my age n I’ve seen more of you  in the, what, three-ish months since you took my case than anyone else, not to mention you’re like...” Lonnie cycles through various expressions as he speaks, apparently directing his explanation at his fingernails. (Note the lack of a solid answer.) 

He doesn’t mention what Jon’s like. Soon, he throws his forehead into one hand, rubbing his temples.

“I mean—- no, but also not no?” "...So, solid maybe." Jon suggests, wiping crumbs off his hands with a chuckle. "Right, well that ain't somethin' you gotta come up with an answer to today, son. Right now, priority's makin' sure you don't get picked up by the cops two days after a breakout."

"And,” he adds, “Not leavin' you to find a half-comfortable Alley to try an' make a sleeping spot from."

“Mmh,” Lonnie affirms through his last bite of BLT (emphasis on the L.) “In my defense, I spent like... the first third’a my sophomore year doin’ that, I’ve got practice.” He jokes, sending finger-guns Jon’s way. “But yeah, let’s leave that for later, ‘kay?”

"Sounds good." Jonathan pulls out his wallet, leafing through it and leaving the bill in cash, with a generous tip. No, the bill hasn't actually arrived yet, but he's pretty good at math. Something about being a Chemist, maybe. 

"Ed's girls oughta be here in a nother couple minutes, so - you wanna hit the washroom or anything 'fore we head outside?"

[agustdef]

Here & Now - Chapter 7

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,758

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn​

A lunchtime excursion is what I needed after a jam-packed morning. I’d been in New York for a week because of my other job and I was half excited and half drained. I’d come for a book convention of sorts, but I’d been attending other book-related things the entire time too. Meeting my agent, meeting with other authors, meeting with editors and just going to mixers. It was a lot.

I loved every solitary second of it though.

On day two of the con, my book friends and I had snuck away to have lunch at a rooftop bar we liked. Food and drinks were spread across the table as we ate and relaxed.

Some drank and some didn’t, me being part of the later even though I craved one glass of wine. It helped my mind decompress faster without getting me even slightly tipsy. But I’d put myself on a ban until later.

“Kendall, you’ve been eyeing the rosé for like ten minutes. Just get a glass already,” Sol, an editor friend, said.

I blinked rapidly and shook my head. Looking down at my orange juice I frowned but drank it anyway.

She huffed, probably over my nonsense. “Why not?”

I’d known her longer than anyone and she’d seen me drunk many times, so she knew why. “I can’t risk me turning sleepy instead of energetic. You know I have that panel.”

In the afternoon I’d agreed to do a panel on diversity in fantasy, that was by some miracle filled with POC whose identities were intersectional. We’d be having an actual conversation about how we built our worlds. And hopefully, it wouldn’t get derailed by an audience member.

After that I planned to drink, because I enjoyed it in a not getting wasted capacity and I hadn’t had a sip in over a month.

“So, about that Medusa retelling…” Sara, another author, trailed off, leaving the remark open-ended.

“No.”

“Okay, so how about that adult fantasy?”

“No,” I said again, shoving a fry into my mouth.

Sara rolled her eyes for a second but quickly went into puppy dog mode. “Why not? Why won’t you let me read what you have?”

Narrowing my eyes I shook my head at her. She’d been on me about it all weekend, which was more intense than her texts or Discord messages about it.

“Because they both need major and I mean major rewrites. Plus they aren’t my main focus right now. I don’t have time for them to be.”

“But Kennie, we won’t judge past you, we just want to see what you have.” My agent said, joining in on the harassment.

Soon the entire table was pouting at me. It was unfair, but I had to remain strong. Both stories were not things I would want to see. They were due for some major changes and made me cringe beyond belief. It was like some of my earlier music in that regards. Couldn’t really listen to it without shivering in disgust.

“No. You will wait.” I made sure to look them all in the eyes before turning to Ara. “And aren’t you supposed to be the one discouraging my wandering eye. I have a whole sequel to work on in like two weeks.”

Ara just took a sip of her tea and shrugged. Her unabashedness didn’t surprise me, she could be the worst when it came to me thinking about writing other things.

“Not like you aren’t ahead of schedule with it anyway.”

I was ready to respond sarcastically, but she wasn’t wrong.

We all quickly dissolved from trying to get me to show them my shame to talking about how con was so far. We all enjoyed it, but some were more drained than others. It was great to see people who liked books or liked out books, but after some much interaction with others, it would be hard to keep going.

It’s why we spent a lot of our non-con related meet-ups in a relaxed environment where no one was forced to say a word.

“So, any new music?” Ara instigated.

“None of ya business, ma’am.” I turned and glared at her, which made her glance away.

Rolling my eyes I continued eating in silence, listening to the conversations but making no effort to join in unless I was spoken directly to. I was so not present that I almost didn’t hear my phone ring and when I noticed it I was prepared to let it go to voicemail until I realized the voicemail.

Before anyone could say anything I snatched it up from the table where all the phones were. Everyone’s attention moved to me, but thankfully none appeared to have seen the caller ID or picture.

“That better not be work,” Sara warned.

“It’s not.”

Leaning away from her I cleared my throat and answered the phone in Korean. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Yoongi said.

“Hi.”

There was an awkward pause as usual when he called me, which always made me laugh. “What’s up Yoon?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

My laughter increased and drew the attention of the table, which I brushed off as I collected myself.

“Nothing? You’re up at 1:00 a.m and nothing is up? If I recall you knocked out the last five nights before midnight.”

There was silence and then a scoff. “How would you know? You didn’t answer one of those nights.”

My mouth dropped open for a second in surprise, but I had no clue why. He’d been holding that over me for three days, whining about him having something important to ask me then. Yet he couldn’t recall what said important thing was.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

On the other end, I could hear him chuckle. He didn’t even bother to muffle it like he’d done the first few times we’d talked and he’d even slightly sassed me.

The jerk was trying to get a rise out of me.

“I will hang up on you.”

“Wait. Wait. Okay. I was working on untitled three and it inspired something else, so I wanted your thoughts,” he said.

My interest was beyond piqued. He never let me listen to things, no matter how much I begged. “Something else? Something else like what?”

“None of your business something else.”

“Well, how am I supposed to give my honest, professional opinion if I don’t know what I’m giving…”

He cut me off, “Not going to work. I can hang up instead.”

“Fine. Fine,” I said in English by accident. Again the group's eyes were on me, but I waved them off.

“Okay.”

For seconds after nothing was said and I could barely hear the clicking of what I assumed was his mouse. The more time passed the more excited I became until there was a soft melody playing.

“Shit,” he said before it stopped. “Wrong one.”

Again I was left to wait until a much more intense sound slipped through the phone. It was a much harder beat, something that felt very on brand with your typical rap song but was straddling line into metal music. I’d never assumed he’d be one for the sound.

Pushing past my shock I listened closely as he played it a second time unprompted. When it was over I played it over in my head, trying my best to pick it apart of something.

“So?” he asked.

“It’s good, pleasing to the ears. But were you trying to venture into metal music? And were you going for something so drum heavy? If yes, then maybe take away some of that cello. I think that’s a cello. Why the hell is there a cello piece in there?” The more I thought the more confused I got.

Instead of answering me he laughed. It sounded like one of his head throwing laughs too.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Maybe,” he answered, still laughing.

“I’m hanging up!”

“No, wait. Here. This is the real thing.”

The track started the same, bass drum doing its thing and I almost hung up, but instead of the bass continuing with the cello like before it faded a little into the background. Everything that made it weird and metal was gone, replaced by a hip hop style beat that was more his style.

Once it played twice I spoke up. “I actually like this one and it’s still pleasing to the ears. Is there was a specific thing you were going for? I could be of more use if I knew.”

“No. Just wanted to see if it sounded okay.”

“Yoon, tell me. I hate the mystery,” I whined.

“No.”

Arguing with him would get me nowhere and I knew it. “Okay, then what was that other one?”

“Nope. Bye Kendall,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“No. Yoongi, tell me.”

“Bye.”

“Fine, bye.”

With a groan, I hung up and placed my phone back at the center of the table. The urge to pout and try to get him to tell me was strong, but I also couldn’t help the smile that formed.

Sara cleared her throat as I felt my cheeks begin to burn, drawing me from whatever weirdly happy place I was going. When I glanced her way her eyes were narrowed. “You said it wasn’t for work.”

As I cursed I blamed myself for not remembering that she one of the two Korean American’s at the table spoke it fluently, but that wasn’t the case. I’d simply assumed nothing I’d be embarrassed about would be said. Not like she didn’t know I knew him after I’d had her check a text for me without thinking it would be him days before.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t.”

“Sounded like it.”

“It was a friend asking for an opinion.” Grabbing my glass I hoped she’d drop it as I took a swig.

“Yup, totally. Min Yoongi just called for an opinion and that totally wasn’t adorable flirting.”

“No,” I practically shouted. Clearing my throat I tried again, “No, that’s not what happened at all. And you could only hear my side, so you wouldn’t know anyway.”

She wiggled her eyebrows and nudged my shoulder a little. “ You’re smiling way too hard for it not to have been.”

In response, my hand went to cover my mouth as I tried to push down the smile.

It’s cute. You’re both cute.”

Before I could respond someone asked her a question. As her attention diverted elsewhere I chewed the inside of my cheek and fought down the flustered feeling inside of me.

[megers67]

A Little Reunion

Okay, this is a fic about my most recent OC, Yoshimi (whose bio you can read about here with additional trivia here). I wrote it mostly to get a feel for writing him and I think, on the whole, I still have some things to shake out, but I still really like this character so hopefully I get to do more with him in the future. There are a lot of writing mistakes because I wrote it late at night. But since it was written more to get a feel for character, I don'tcare enough to put in the effort to clean it up.

Anyway, this is just Yoshimi running into a former student of his and maybe a little impromptu crime stopping on the side.

—————

Funai Yoshimi really liked summer break. For as much as he liked teaching and looking after his kids, he liked the breather that usually came with it. The summer was a longer break so most students went home for a much longer period of time rather than stay at the dorms. That meant that he had the place to himself for a good chunk of the break and that he had the time to just relax. For Yoshimi, that meant walking the nearby town and getting some reading done with some people-watching on the side. It was nice seeing the thriving life of people going about their daily business.

With that in mind, he found himself getting a coffee at a small bakery on his way to one of the larger parks when he spotted a familiar face. One of his former students was sitting at one of the outdoor tables at the corner of the property. She had been one of his brighter students a few years ago so he was already proud that he saw that she was in a police uniform.

While the young woman was distracted by her phone, Yoshimi walked over and tapped his cane on the leg of her chair to get her attention. “Hope you’re not on that thing while you’re on duty, Kiddo.” He distinctly remember having to be on her case all the time about her phone when she was his student.

Takei Ayumi blinked in surprise then looked up, already beaming since she recognized the voice. “Mr. Funai!” She stood to give him a big hug, which he returned as best he could with one hand on his cane, the other holding a large latte, and carrying a book under his arm. “Wait, is this how you dress when you’re not at school?”

“In the summer, yeah.” Yoshimi’s students usually saw him in a business casual brown suit, complete with a sweater vest and a tie. Right now however, he was in vacation mode. Socks and sandals, khaki shorts, and a loud shirt that had a pair of sunglasses tucked into the collar. Even his hair was different as his long hair wasn’t in the usual plain ponytail but had flowers braided into it. He even was careful to keep the strands of his grey streak together.

Takei gestured to a spare chair. “Sit! I’m on break so I have time to catch up!”

There was no way that Yoshimi would refuse, so he took a seat with his back to the corner so he could see the rest of the cafe then propped his cane against the table. “Are you enjoying police work?”

“Well, I only just made it through training so I’m still pretty new with all of it. I like it so far though! They assigned me a partner who has been on the force for about ten years so he’s showing me the ropes.”

The teacher took a nice long sip of his coffee. “Still going for detective? I know you talked about it a lot in your last semester with me.”

“Yeah! I still have several years of experience and as an officer and additional training to get through, but I’m on track. The Chief said that my quirk will come in handy so I might be able to assist in investigations early!”

“That’s great! How’s your quirk control?” Takei was one of those cases who had a quirk that wasn’t destructive or dangerous in any way, but very easily overwhelming. When she touched an object, she could automatically see the past 12 hours that object went through. It’s pretty much impossible to not be touching things at any point in time so it had taken a lot of work. Yoshimi, with support from the school got an old buddy of his from his hero days to make a bodysuit and gloves for her woven with the girl’s genetic material. This made it practically invisible to her quirk. Wearing it under her clothes meant there was a buffer between her and anything she could come into contact with. Whenever she did want to use her quirk, she could easily remove the gloves. That was the kind of assistance that going to Saisei could provide that the average person may not be privy to. Such support items were expensive, but were crucial for some just to live a normal life.

The woman held up her hands showing that she was still wearing her gloves. “Still going strong. I’m mostly working on extending the scope of it. I know you were working with me on the timing, stopping, starting, forward, backward, and the speed going through it, but now I’m working on my visual and audio range. If I can consistently get to a meter, I think that would be really amazing. Still got a long way to go on that front. Let me see your cane.”

Without question, he handed it over. Takei took off one of her gloves and clutched it. Her eyes glazed over as she began to rewind the last 12 hours. Yoshimi could tell she was just speeding through and not really looking judging by how quickly her eyes seemed to be moving. However, the officer’s expression changed, as if her curiosity was piqued and slowed down. After a moment or two, she chuckled and let go of the cane.

“Sensei, who was that guy on the train?”

“Some asshole who decided that he absolutely deserved a seat despite the fact that it was a full train and everyone who was sitting had a disability of some kind. I was even ready to accept that he had an invisible one, but he made sure to let everyone on that train know that he wasn’t, in his words, a cripple.”

“So you smashed his foot with your cane?”

The man just shrugged. “He seemed determined to need a reason to need a seat, so I gave him one.”

“Technically…. I could pursue assault charges for that. However, it wasn’t reported by anyone and neither I nor another officer witnessed it when it happened so I’ll just let you off with a warning this time, Sir. Just don’t do that again.”

“Duly noted, Officer.” Yoshimi gave a salute for good measure as his grin widened. He took his cane back and propped it against the table once more. Yeah, she was going to be just fine.

He saw another police officer coming up to them with a tray that had a couple of pastries and two coffees on it. The officer was younger than the teacher, likely in his early 30s. “Takei, who is this?”

“Sir, this is one of my teachers from Saisei! Funai Yoshimi.” She then introduced the other man to her former teacher. “Sensei, this is my partner, Okura Kosuke. He’s showing me the ropes now that I’m on the force.”

The two men shook hands as Okura took a seat. “So, Mr. Funai, what did you teach?”

“I’m a freestyle dance teacher,” Yoshimi replied with the unshakeable confidence. While the other man was utterly confused, Takei looked on in abject horror. She was hoping beyond hope that it would end there.

It did not. The teacher felt he hadn’t mortified his former student enough so he decided to flail his arms, making sure to bop his head to imaginary music as he did so for a full minute. It was… it was pretty bad.

After a few beats, Okura started laughing. Hard. There were tears and everything. “You, I like you,”  he managed after he regained his breath. “I need to remember that for when my son gets older!”

“The effect would be better if I was standing and my back would let me. Also, it’s good to throw in either a really old and outdated move or one that is really current and popular with the kids. Never fails.” To emphasize his point, Yoshimi gestured to Takei who was holding her beet-red face in her hands, looking like she wanted to melt into the table.

“But I’m not even at Saisei anymore!” It technically wasn’t a whine, but the sentiment was similar.

The teacher pat her on the shoulder sympathetically, but still had a shit-eating grin. “Sorry, once you’re one of my Kiddos, you’ll always be a Kiddo. You could probably start a support group about that.” It wasn’t the first time he embarrassed a former student and absolutely won’t be the last. That’s a pleasure he plans on taking to his grave. “You should have seen Tajima’s face when I was in his family’s bookstore!”

Yoshimi paused to take a moment to triumphantly drink from his coffee, during which time the police officers settled. Takei seemed desperate to change the subject. “How’s Junichi doing, Sensei?”

The man winced for a moment. “Unfortunately he passed a year ago.”

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. It was hard for a while, but I knew from the beginning that he wasn’t going to have a long life, so I was prepared for it. At least he had a nice life. He loved his ball and climbing through my clothes. When it was getting to the end I was spoiling him a bit and gave him small amounts of dog food as treats.”

Okura spoke up for the first time in a bit. “Dog food?”

“My preferred pets are rats. Anyway, I’ve got Kamiko now and she’s the sweetest little girl but she really has a bit of a chewing problem. Want to see pictures?”

As he was pulling out his phone, he noticed a figure racing past behind him from the direction of the blind corner. Since he was a retired pro hero, he instinctively looked at his watch. You know… just in case something came of it. He had a gut feeling about these kinds of things. When the figure reached the intersection, Yoshimi and the officers heard someone yelling about a thief further back. It didn’t take a genius to piece those pieces of information together. The officers reacted quickly, but because they were delayed in getting the information, the suspect was already across the street and rapidly disappearing from sight. Potential movement quirk. After about 30 seconds, Yoshimi could tell that the officers had lost the chase. 30 more seconds later they began walking back to the cafe.

Alright, he’s seen enough. His quirk allowed him to travel back to where he was 90 seconds in the past. It wasn’t a grand amount of time, but more than enough to get a second shot at an event that just occurred.

Flash back!

“-should have seen Tajima’s face when-” The man stopped mid-sentence to give himself a second to adjust, blinking his eyes rapidly. Jumping back could be kind of disorienting and typically made him at least slightly nauseous. However, he’s done this sort of thing countless times before and was more than capable of handling it. Looking at his watch, he saw that he’d jumped back to approximately 30 seconds before the figure first appeared.

Takei, as a former student of his, recognized the signs that he used his quirk. “Sensei?” She began looking around to find a potential reason for the older man to have jumped back.

“You have your handcuffs on you right?”

Right, so whatever happened, it involved a criminal of some sort. That was all she needed to get her to stand. “Any quirks, Sensei?”

“Possibly a movement quirk, but undetermined.”

Okura, for his part, didn’t really know what was going on, but was experienced enough to read the change the tone had taken. He stood up as well.

Yoshimi checked his watch. “Okay Kiddo, ready up in five, four…” the rest of the countdown came in the form of silent head nods. Just as he reached one, he jutted his cane out behind him with the perfect timing to trip the suspect and send him sprawling. The officers were on him in half a heartbeat. Since the criminal had been turning a blind corner, Yoshimi timed it perfectly, and the police on the scene were already prepared, the guy never had a chance in hell. There was a struggle, but nothing that posed much of a challenge. The shopkeep that accused the young man was able to catch up to give their official statement.

During the fallout, the teacher caught the eye of his former student. She shrugged apologetically with her hands full. This was going to take a while and they likely won’t be able to continue their conversation. Yoshimi nodded his head and raised his coffee in both an understanding and a goodbye before collecting his things to resume his original plans for the day. They’ll run into each other again, he was sure of it.

[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 13

We toured the entire span of the front office, shifted into the clubhouse and ‘social room’, then moved along outside to view the Vegas style pool. I was in awe as we spent nearly half an hour viewing every astounding amenity that the complex had to offer. From the cyber café, the outdoor cabanas, the dog park with a covered bar area, and the athletic club… this complex had it all! We completed the tour inside the one-bedroom model apartment that Chris had his heart set on. I found myself lingering in the spacious kitchen area as Chris went over last minute details with Cassandra before making a final decision.

“Can you give me a minute Cassandra? I’d like to talk it over with my girl really quick if you don’t mind.” He tried to keep his voice hushed, but I still managed to hear him clearly. “Sure, sure. No rush at all Chris… just let me know when you’re ready.” Her tone was too exuberant as she skipped into the living room and left Chris to make his way toward me.

“So what do you think?” He asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he stopped about two feet in front of me. Twisting my brows with confusion, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at the ornate porcelain tile beneath our feet “I think it’s perfect Chris. I mean… this place is amazing. But…” I raised my gaze and peered into his twinkling russet orbs, “I don’t think my opinion really matters.” He stared at me as the twinkle in his eye quickly dimmed and he frowned almost immediately “What do you mean your opinion doesn’t matter?”

“It just doesn’t. Listen to what you’re saying… look at what you’re doing,” I could feel myself getting worked up from the thought of the entire charade he’d put on from the moment we’d set foot on the property, “The mother of your child needs to be here with you, not me. You’ve got this lady thinking we’re together and I don’t understand why.” Titling his head to one side, he squinted his eyes at me and ran his tongue over his top row of teeth beneath his clenched lips “I’m simply asking you for your fuckin opinion, because whether you believe it or not… it fuckin matters to me. It’s cool though. I’m sure the mother of my child will love it.”

With a not so subtle roll of his eyes, he turned and walked back over to Cassandra. I was left in utter shock and suddenly wanted nothing more than to hightail it out of the luxury unit. “I’d like to submit an application for the one-bedroom unit Cassandra. I love it!” Chris exclaimed with what I could easily decipher to be some type of forged happiness. “Great! Let’s head back down to the office and get your paperwork started. The turnaround time is exceedingly quick. Once everything is cleared, it’s a go and you two will be enjoying your luxury unit before you know it!”

With a smirk, he trailed behind her as she headed for the door. I could see him through my peripheral and I could see his eyes glued to my face as he passed. His smiled had suddenly vanished and he glared at me, brushing against my shoulder as he exited the model apartment.

--

The ride home was silent and the tension was thick enough to reach out and grip. The radio played softly in the background, but neither of us spoke a word. I stared out at the beautiful scenery and nearly rejoiced at the distracting vibration of my phone in my lap. “Hello.” I greeted all too quickly, assuming it to be Destani when her face appeared on the screen. “Hey girl!” A loud voice that didn’t match Destani’s rang out over the line. “Tameka?” Though the tone was loud, I was sure it didn’t belong to Destani.

“Oh you don’t recognize my voice now? Don’t act brand new boo!” She exclaimed. “Sorry Meka, I thought you were Destani.” I laughed. Tameka smacked her lips obnoxiously and I could only imagine the harsh roll of her eyes to match “Don’t be confusing me with that trollip. Anyway, Dez is in the bathroom… probably taking a shit,” She paused to giggle at her own crude joke and I shook my head and chuckled, “She told me to call and make sure your ass is going to the movies with us tonight.”

Glancing at Chris who focused intently on the road and seemed to be completely ignoring me, I turned my attention back to the phone conversation and gazed down in my lap with a sigh “Yeah, I am.” “Alright, I’ll let this heffa know. Where you at though? Why you ain’t go to the mall with us?” She inquired curiously. “I’m with Chris.” I nearly whispered. “Chris! Where the hell you find that nigga at?”

I could feel the truck slowing at a traffic light and from the corner of my eye, I could see him glaring at me “He came to my house last night and I’ve just been out running a few errands with him all morning....” Within the blink of an eye, an ink adorned arm swiftly whizzed past my face and I felt my phone being snatched away from me. Ending the call just as the traffic light changed, Chris tossed the phone down in my lap and accelerated through the intersection. My mouth hung open with shock as I stared down at my phone, completely astonished.

“Are you serious? What is your problem?” I whipped around to face him, irritation surging through my body. “That’s not her fucking business.” He muttered, plain and simple with a single shrug of his right shoulder. I stared at his profile and fought the urge to chuck my phone at the side of his composed face.

The most malicious names that I could think to call him swept through my mind as I turned to face the windshield. I crossed my arms tight over my chest and my right leg quickly began to quiver with irritation. I wanted out of the truck immediately and contemplated climbing out at the next traffic light. His attitude was progressively worsening by the minute and I didn’t want to be anywhere near him much longer. Ten minutes later, we’d finally pulled into the neighborhood and I nearly leapt from the truck before he pulled it to a complete stop in my driveway. Before I could get the passenger side door open, I felt the unintentional strength of his hand curling firmly around my forearm.

“Get off me Chris.” I murmured with a deep scowl. “Can I just talk to you for a fuckin second?” His tone was gruff and somber, with not an ounce of humor and I knew he meant business. I didn’t care though. He’d brought me home safely and I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from him and his attitude as possible. “You really need to stop cursing at me and I don’t think there’s anything that needs to be discussed. Now can you please let go of my arm?” I remained stern as I yanked myself from his grasp and moved to push the door open. “What the fuck is your problem Hope?” Again, his voice was still harsh as he disregarded my request and I nearly cringed at the sound of it.

I rotated in my seat to face him and chuckled humorlessly in his face “You are my problem.” “The hell are you talking about? How am I your problem?” His cheeks were gradually morphing into that familiar light rosy tint and I rolled my eyes at the sight. He was getting himself worked up for no good reason. There would be absolutely no purpose to getting upset if only he would allow me to exit the car. I was trapped beside him though… until he spoke his final word. I leaned calmly against the passenger seat, not the slightest bit concerned about his oncoming rage. I was confident that no matter how angry he allowed himself to become, he wouldn’t dare lash out on me.

“Are you done?” I asked serenely. His brows had furrowed so deeply, I was sure they physically touched right in the center of his forehead “Hell no I’m not done. I’m trynna got damn talk to you and you steady trynna walk away from me.” “Chris, listen to me okay,” I started, turning my body completely around to face him, “You don’t like to hear the truth and that’s exactly what I told you. Your girlfriend should have been with you through this entire ordeal today, not me. But instead of being mature and rational enough to listen to me, you shut down and get angry…”

“She’s not my fuckin girlfriend!” He hollered, loud enough for the veins in his neck to bulge, and I quickly shut my eyes, shaking my head as I raised a hand to hush him. “Do not yell at me Christopher.” I maintained my calm demeanor as I stared at him through squinted sapphire orbs. “She’s not my girlfriend,” He repeated, in a significantly laxer tone, “Gabby has no say in shit that I do, but she’s pregnant Hope… with my kid. I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I have to as a father to make sure that baby is taken care of, but Gabby doesn’t have shit to do with it from there.”

His words stung as the reality of his situation struck me. I hadn’t heard him speak openly about the baby until now and nausea surged through me with every word he uttered. “This is why I didn’t even wanna tell anyone, especially you,” I glanced at him as he dropped his head against the headrest with a sigh and ran his hands over his frowning face, “I can’t handle you treating me different just because I have a kid on the way. Like… you still mean the world to me and I wanted you there with me today because honestly, your opinion is the only one that matters to me.”

He made it clear in that moment that he was struggling to cope with perhaps the biggest dilemma of his entire life, and I was doing a horrible job of being by his side as I’d vowed to do just the night before. When he introduced me to his refuge at the lake, he revealed to me that a part of his sanity depended on me. In just the past few hours I’d spent with him touring his prospective new home, I’d managed to be the cake topper to his mountain of turmoil. I couldn’t go back on my word now. No matter how I felt about the situation he’d managed to get himself into, I had to promise myself and him that I would always be his happiness.

--

With my aunt and Chris and Destani’s mothers out enjoying their girl’s night on the town, Destani, Nalay, Tameka, and I decided to leave the house early to grab a bite to eat before heading to the movies. Shortly after filling our famished bellies, we ventured on to the movie theater and stood in the lengthy line, conversing as we waited to purchase tickets. Eventually the line finally moved up, we collected our tickets, and we were soon on our way into the dim theater.

“This shit is about to be hilarious. Ya’ll know my husband in it right?” Tameka exclaimed boldly as she plopped down in her seat beside Destani. “Who girl?” Destani asked with a smirk. “Zac Efron’s fine ass. Girl, I would take that little white boy down in a heartbeat!” She said and they both cackled loudly. “Will ya’ll two please shut the hell up? The movie is about to start!” Nalay whispered harshly. With a smack of her lips, Tameka rolled her eyes toward the movie screen and crossed her arms over her chest “Rude ass.”

The remaining lights in the theater dimmed and a layer of silence washed over the audience. We all focused on the screen as the opening credits rolled through and the first scene of the movie played. We laughed throughout the movie at the silly antics of the characters and Tameka occasionally ooh’d and aww’d at an often shirtless Zac Efron. Nearly halfway through the movie I could feel the undeniable sensation of piercing eyes glaring into the back of my head. I turned to glance over my shoulder, but to no avail. The theater was too dark to catch the culprit behind the penetrating glare. Without second thought, I faced forward and tuned in to the rest of the movie.