#but going and smelling the honeysuckle while I was there that (almost certainly) last time ever I was there... man.

[blujayonthewing]

[layers demeter firefly and honeysuckle to give myself psychic damage]

[writerpeach]

Stamina

Berrygood Johyun x Male Reader

8885 words

Categories: smut, public sex, oral, anal

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Read on AFF

Read on AO3

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This piece took a while to finish, I started over at least twice and didn't really feel like editing it much anymore, so apologies if it's not up to my usual standards. I will be taking a long extended hiatus from writing after this chapter and figure out what exactly I want to do next. Thank you all for continuing to read my writing.

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas <3

"Ugh, babe, I'm so full!"

Johyun slurped on the last bit of her noodles, bringing the large porcelain bowl to her red lips and drinking the leftover broth. She wiped her lips and let out a sound of satisfaction.

“I would hope so, you ate like a pig,” you teased, finishing your own ramen and washing it down with a small bottle of milk which aided in cooling your tongue. You could handle spice just fine, but this restaurant always made things just a bit spicier than you were used to, which always caught you off guard.

Johyun stuck her tongue out. “Come give this pig a kiss then,” she said, leaning over the table and puckered her lips. You graciously fulfilled her request and kissed her on the lips before taking one more drink.

“Too hot for you, baby?” Johyun asked, noticing your sniffling nose that you were trying to hide.

“Maybe, I’m okay though. It was good though.”

“This is still the best ramen place in Seoul. What should we do now?”

“I could go for some dessert. Something to offset all this spice,” you replied.

“I think if I eat anything else it’s going to go straight to my ass, baby.”

“Well then we better get you something else. I love your ass.”

“I know you do, baby, you’[re always staring at it,” Johyun teased.  “I think we should go for a run and work all this off. All these carbs and salt aren’t good for us.”

“Okay, but dessert-” you protested, not wanting to exercise at such a late hour.

“Dessert can wait, babe. It’s important for us to stay healthy.”

“Fine, you’re right.” Complaining wasn’t going to do you any good.

You hated working out. Cardio was your enemy, even a brisk walk left you out of breath.

The gym did have its benefits. Johyun always showed off her big round ass in very tight leggings, leaving little to the imagination as her defined plump buttcheeks swallowed up the fabric of her pants. You never would have stepped inside a gym voluntarily.

Johyun on the other hand loved to workout. It was part of her job to be in shape, and she worked out regularly, sometimes starting as soon as she woke up which you could never wrap your head around.

You had joined this particular gym as it was closest to your shared apartment and a close distance from both of your workplaces and had the benefit of being open 24/7, which you didn’t know was a benefit or a curse. Johyun insisted on paying up front for six months, insisting it would force you to commit to an exercise routine.

Making a quick pit stop at home to pick up water and change you held the door open for Johyun as she smiled and headed in first. She wore a pink shirt underneath a black jacket, while her lower half consisted of tight dark leggings, letting you see that wonderful plump ass and her full wide hips swaying as she entered.

This gym wasn’t like the other ones you had tried, full of loud gym rats who lived to lift weights and loved to let anyone know how much they could bench. It was smaller but still had plenty of various equipment and you never had to wait long for a machine to show up, allowing you to focus on what body parts you wanted to focus on or the dreaded cardio you loathed.

It was rather late when you entered, seeing a lack of anyone else in the gym. It was your lucky day. Your eyes scanned the rows of machines, deciding what you wanted to do first. Johyun settled on the elliptical first, taking a moment to warm her body up with a stretching routine.

You started simple, doing lat pulldowns while Johyun worked her arms and legs at the same time. You were tired after just one set, while she hadn’t even broken a sweat.

She moved to the row of treadmills facing a wall of mirrors, and you followed, taking a seat in a nearby weight bench and grabbed a set of free weights, using a heavier weight than you normally did as you tried to show off.

You had the perfect view of your girlfriend as she worked out, legs moving like a gazelle as the upped the incline right away. Her leggings hugged her ass perfectly, and you couldn’t decide where you wanted your eyes there or on her bouncing breasts as she jogged at a brisk pace.

“Babe, stop staring at my ass.” she whined as she caught you in the mirror even though you both knew she loved the attention.

“How can I when it looks so good? If you didn’t want me staring then you shouldn’t have worn those pants,” you replied, catching Johyun smiling in the same mirror you were caught with.

“Fair point. Look all you want, but we’re here to workout. I don’t want you slacking!”

“I am working out,” you said, demonstrating by doing more bicep curls in succession, making a point of flexing your muscles.

“My baby is so strong! Keep going!”

It was hard to focus when you were distracted by Johyun’s scrumptious ass, but you did what you could and at least pretended to finish more reps. Johyun meanwhile had increased the speed on her treadmill as her legs flowed gracefully like water and you were tired just watching her.

You exhaled loudly after doing three sets of ten, placing your dumbbells back on the rack and took a seat back on the bench, enjoying the view of Johyun’s bouncing backside as you took a long sip of ice cold water from your bottle.

While you tried to catch your breath Johyun winded her workout down, gradually decreasing the speed until the belt on the treadmill stopped moving. She spun around on her heels, giving off a sweet smile as she saw your lethargic body resting.

“We should work on your stamina, baby. You’re exhausted and you barely did anything,” she teased.

“I did plenty! I counted at least two hundred reps. I’m gonna be feeling it in the morning.”

“Is that so?” she asked, deciding to play along. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Thank you,” you said as you abruptly pulled her onto your lap, close enough to smell the honeysuckle scent of her shampoo that reminded you of candy.

“I forget how horny you always get after working out,” Johyun said, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair.

“You can’t blame me when your butt looks that good in leggings,” you said, giving her ass a soft smack.

“It really does, doesn’t it?” Johyun replied, tilting her head to one side as she gave you a kiss, letting you taste her sweet lip gloss on her puckered lips.

“Now, who’s horny?”

“You caught me,” Johyun said. “We should go shower, the hot water here lasts forever.’

“We didn’t bring anything to change into and there aren’t towels after hours. We can save water and I’ll clean you up instead,” you said as you dove into her neck, running your tongue and collecting her perspiration.

“Babe, no, I’m so sweaty!”

“I know. I love it,” you said as you continued to lick the sweat off of her neck, finding her taste succulent.

“I have a better idea,” she said as she brought her lips to the side of your face, turning her voice into a mere whisper.

“I wanna suck your cock, baby.”

Her lewd words sent a shiver up your spine and you felt yourself hardening already.

“We better get going then-”

Johyun shook her head, letting her intentions be obviously known.

“I can’t wait until we’re home, baby. I wanna suck your dick right here.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Someone could come in and see, I don’t think this a good idea-”

Johyun interrupted you by placing a finger to your lips, silencing any further protests. “It’ll be fine. I come here almost every night and not a single person shows up. This neighborhood is full of old people so they workout in the early morning.”

“Just relax, baby. Nobody will be here,” Johyun said, giving another kiss as she used your chest to dismount your lap and lowered to her knees slowly, placing both hands in her lap and eagerly looking up.

“I want to gag on your cock, baby. I’m dying to feel it throbbing in the back of my throat, baby, please, I need your cock so bad.”

Well fuck. She had you under her spell, and you certainly weren’t going to deny a woman begging to suck your cock. Johyun smiled happily as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your gym shorts, pulling them down to your ankles and exposing the bulge in your boxers.

“It must have been so difficult trying not to get hard while you were staring at my tight ass,” Johyun said as she pulled your cock out of your boxers, gripping it tightly and stroking, causing your first moan.

Johyun was an impatient woman which let to situations like this, wanting to have sex in as many public place as possible, now adding a gym to the list of checked off places.

“You’re like a rock already,” Johyun smiled as she gave a soft kiss on your tip, pulling the rest of your boxers down to your ankles as she squeezed your cock tighter, giving firmer strokes that made your throbbing shaft leak over her fingers.

You weren’t expecting the night to end with your pants around your ankles at your local gym, but Johyun’s spontaneity kept you on your toes.

Johyun didn’t waste time as she flattened her tongue against your shaft and slowly painted your cock with it, delivering long drawn-out strokes that caused pleasure already. She teased your swollen tip, swirling her wet tongue around it several times to increase your pre-cum, lapping up every drop of the colorless liquid.

“It’s too bad I didn’t bring my purse. You could have fucked my ass here in the gym,” Johyun taunted with a deadly smirk, knowing she always came prepared.

“We’ll just have to save that for later though,” Johyun said as she licked more of your cock, running her tongue over every surface and tasting it like it was a delicious treat for her, which it certainly was.

You never got tired of Johyun’s need to please you in public, and even though you caught yourself nervously looking around, you couldn’t help but selfishly want more.

“What is it, baby?” Johyun asked, spitting on your cock several times and jerking you off with her soft small hand as she spread her warm saliva all over.

“I wanna see your tits,” you replied, without a moment of hesitation.

“All you had to do was ask,” Johyun said as she grabbed the hem of her white top and lifted it up up and over her head, showing off an orange and red bra that you had never seen before that contained her full large breasts, the coloring popping out in the gym lights.

“Is that new?” you asked, unable to take your eyes off from her chest and taking note at how well her breasts were pushed up.

“This? It’s from my last photoshoot, they always let me keep what I model,” Johyun said. You knew she loved showing herself off during lingerie shoots, but always felt a little jealous, something she always sensed.  

“Don’t worry, baby. Everyone gets to see me with this on, but you’re the only person who gets to see me with it off,” she said, giving a reassuring smile. She kept stroking your cock slowly with one hand while the other reached behind her back, unclasping her bra. Johyun tossed it aside, exposing her large milky breasts and nothing could take your eyes off them.

Your mouth watered at the sight of her huge tits. Johyun did her best to distract you as she planted several kisses on both sides of your cock, throbbing with each contact of her lips in preparation for what was next.

“You’re so hard for me, baby,” she said, kissing and licking your tip several times, and you responded with a low groan.

“You make me so hard.”

Johyun licked her lips and ran them along both sides of your needy shaft, giving your cock one final tease. You were both more than ready as her warm lips parted with your hard shaft in between, applying a light suction as she gently sucked your tip.

You gasped at the feeling of Johyun’s soft lips wrapped around your cock as they slid back and forth, her wet tongue adding more stimulation as it played with your sensitive underside.

Johyun’s warm wet mouth felt amazing, even better the deeper she took you inside it. She swallowed up half of your shaft as she bobbed her head up and down, slurping on your cock loudly. Her tongue swirled around your cock as more of it disappeared into her warm cavern, adding endless pleasure that ran through your whole body.

“Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” you moaned as Johyun kept eye contact, watching the pleasure she was giving. Her lips were sealed tight around your throbbing cock, bobbing her head faster as she quickly covered your cock in drool.

“It’ll feel even better if you fuck my face.”

The look in her lust-filled eyes was the only invitation you needed. Johyun stuck her tongue out as you slapped your hard shaft on it several times, giving off several loud smacks as you pushed back inside the warmth of her mouth.

Johyun’s need was visible and you didn’t dawdle, grabbing onto both sides of her head and forcibly started thrusting into her mouth, fucking your girlfriend’s pretty face in the middle of your favorite gym.

You were rough right away, not letting Johyun take any adjustment as you stuffed her throat with as much cock as possible, using her wet warm mouth like a toy for your own selfish pleasure. With each movement of your hips Johyun gagged repeatedly and drool spilling out of the corners of her lips, coating your shaft in saliva as she looked up with teary eyes with nothing but satisfaction.

The only sounds that could be heard were needy pleasurable moans you both gave off and Johyun loudly gagging on your cock as her gorgeous sparkling eyes filled with tears. Wrapping your fingers around strands of hair you increased your pace even more, moving in a harsher manner drool overflowed out of her lips and spilled down to her full perfect breasts, turning her stunning face into a beautiful mess that encouraged your thrusts to be even rougher.

“You like that, baby? You like when I use you?” you growled as you slammed your shaft deep down her throat as possible, sliding every inch of your wet shaft and out mercilessly as Johyun braced herself by holding onto your thighs.

If not for the look of wanton lust in Johyun’s eyes you would have been worried about hurting her, her nails digging into your skin signaling you were meeting her standards. Not wanting to finish abruptly you slowed down your pace and held Johyun against your base, her cute nose flushed with your stomach as she looked up and continued gagging, signaling for a break as she slapped your thighs several times.

When you released her with a loud pop she gasped for air as several strands of spit connected her messy mouth to your shaft, and you slapped her gorgeous face with your cock repeatedly and rubbed your tip all over.

“You were so rough, baby. I love choking on your cock, “ Johyun said with a huge smile as she leftover spit dripped out of her mouth and she spread it all over your cock.

“We shouldn’t let all this spit go to waste,” she said as she batted her eyes, taking your cock and slapping her soft heavy breasts with it before rubbing your tip up and down her cleavage.

“I know just what you want, baby.”

With a kiss on your swollen tip Johyun slipped your throbbing cock in between her huge pillowy breasts, trapping it in between warm flesh and squeezed her tits tightly to keep you from escaping.

“Oh fuck.”

Johyun smiled sweetly and didn’t waste time, moving her chest up and down as she used her abundant chest to grind up and down your body and create delicious friction. The pleasure was intense as you watched your tip disappearing in and out of her wet cleavage with ease, being lubricated properly as your cock was surrounded by soft warm flesh.

“You like fucking these big tits?” Johyun asked as she added more drool, spitting on your cock several times to ensure the friction remained as smooth as possible. The warm mounds around your cock caused endless pleasure as her huge breasts did their job, sliding up and down around your shaft that was locked up in between her warm cleavage.    

“Fuck, baby, you know I do. It feels so fucking good.”

“You’re so easily controlled,“ Johyun teased. “I love how much my tits turn you on.”

She wrapped her soft breasts tighter, interlocking her fingers and squeezing your cock more with warm flesh everywhere that drove you insane. Johyun did her best to lick your swollen cockhead when it became visible again, sending even more electricity shooting up and down your spine with every strike of her wet tongue.

You worked together to achieve pleasure in tandem with Johyun, thrusting in between her huge soft mounds as she grinded them against your pelvis, making you moan loudly for her how good they felt around your dick.

“F-fuck, baby-”

You felt that annoying tightness in your loins that always showed up at the worst possible moment.

“You’re going to cum already?” Johyun frowned as she tightened the warm flesh around your needy throbbing shaft, not that there was anything you could have done to prevent it.

“My tits must be too much to handle,” Johyun smirked.

Truer words had never been said. You didn’t know how much longer you had, but it wasn’t more than a few seconds. Johyun’s assault with her breasts was deadly, and you couldn’t take it any longer. Savoring those final moments you watched your cock slipping in and out of her fleshy pillows, setting off your orgasm like she had just lit the fuse of a stick of dynamite.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess all over me.”

With a final glance between the soft flesh your cock was sandwiched in between, you throbbed wildly as you erupted in between Johyun’s tits as your toes curled. While your cock had disappeared in between her deep cleavage you filled it with several thick spurts, helping to lubricate your constant pumping motions, splashing her pretty lips and chin and painting her features white as you groaned incessantly.

Your legs shook as you were milked all over Johyun’s tits, white stickiness coated her skin as you struggled for air, your orgasm taking control of your body as Johyun rubbed your warmth into her skin, looking into one of the gym mirrors at the mess you made all over her and smiling proudly.

“We really need to work on your stamina,” she teased with her earlier words, drawing her tongue around your shaft to make sure everything had been given to her.

“Rest for a little bit, baby,” she said, flicking her tongue against your sensitive slit that caused a reaction in your whole body.

While you tried to regain your senses Johyun stood to her knees and playfully pushed you against the weight bench as you stepped out of your pants and boxers, still gasping for breath as you laid down.

She didn’t say another word as she faced away from you, still watching your reaction in the large mirror as she bent over and slowly peeled her leggings off, revealing a matching orange thong nestled in between her tight round ass.

You could feel your erection coming back to life already. Johyun kept her body bent over, rubbing her thighs before squeezing her ass, giving you the show of a lifetime. She spanked her ass on each side, the smack echoing as she wiggled her hips and shook her ass before pulling down her thong painfully slow an inch at a time, displaying her bare body for your eyes to marvel over.

Johyun’s backside was the work of hundreds of squats and dozens and dozens of hours at the game, and it was worth all that effort. You were able to see her naked body in full glory, those luscious long legs and thick creamy thighs, her beautiful ass and bare shaven pussy that looked like heaven, pink flesh dripping with arousal as you were ready for a taste.

“Since you’ve been appreciating my ass all day, I think you deserve a closer look.”

Your mouth salivated in anticipation and before you could even take another breath Johyun made her way over to the head of the weight bench, facing away from you. In one swift movement she took a squatting position and lowered herself onto you, the flesh of her bare soft ass pressed firmly against your skin, squishing your face.

There was nothing more you loved than to be Johyun’s chair, especially after a workout as you felt the warmth of her sweaty thighs surrounding your face.

“Do you like when I sit on your face, baby?” Johyun asked as she looked over her shoulder, the comforting warmth of her body pressed down as she put more weight down and smothered your face with her supple cheeks.

You found it hard to both breathe and speak, unable to form a response as you squeezed her ass in response, slapping each of her cheeks that rippled. You didn’t need to breathe when you could be suffocated by Johyun’s delicious plump ass. Blood flowed freely to your loins again, causing your erection to be at full attention.

“I can’t believe you’re hard again already,” Johyun said as she leaned forward and gripped your cock, resting a hand on your thigh while she stroked your shaft. You reciprocated and focused on giving pleasure as you licked her pink wet slit several times, making her moan.

“F-fuck, that feels good,” she moaned as she began bouncing her ass on your face, spreading her juices all over. You traced the outline of her pussy, sliding your tongue through her folds and exploring every surface you could find.

“Can you breathe, baby?”

You shook your head as you gave her pleasure, neither of you seeming to care. You saw nothing but delicious flesh in your vision as you ran your tongue through Johyun’s wetness, making her moan with every delicate movement you made.

“I can’t believe my naughty boyfriend loves being suffocated with my ass so much," she said, grinding her backside back and forth while she kept stroking your shaft.

You kneaded her soft cheeks with your hands, digging your fingers into her warm flesh. Her juices collected on your tongue and you couldn't get enough of her delicious juices spilling into your mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, that tongue feels so good. Eat my fucking pussy."

Giving several slaps on her bottom you had enough teasing and sucked on her swollen clit, making her thighs squeeze around your head tighter as she moaned with satisfaction.

Johyun kept you in between her thick thighs and you couldn't think of a better place to be then nestled under the comfort of her warm cheeks, tasting her delicious pussy like it was a full course meal.  

While you became Johyun’s personal bench, time no longer existed as you ate Johyun out. You could have been there for a few minutes or hours, keeping your hands full of her cheeks as you licked her wet pussy everywhere. You wandered aimlessly as your face became wetter with each swipe of your tongue, giving her as much pleasure as possible.

It didn’t take long for Johyun to grow selfish, no longer caring about your pleasure but focusing on her own as she rested her hands on your thighs and shoved her ass against your face. You loved everything about her taste, the way her juices flowed into your mouth and you never wanted to stop until your tongue had gone numb, grabbing her hips and forcing your tongue as deep into her tasty cunt as it would go.

“Make me cum, baby. I’m so close,” she said, closing her eyes momentarily as she moaned lustfully, wanting to savor this moment forever. Lips closed on her clit you slurped her juices that leaked out, desperate for more to fill your palette and helping her chase the end that was in sight.

“B-baby, don’t stop, please fucking stop, I’m going to cum on your face-”

It didn’t take long. Johyun’s thighs put your head in a vice-like grip, digging her nails into your skin as she hit her peak and screamed in pleasure. You felt wetness gushing everywhere, coating your face in her sweet essence as her toes curled and the thighs around your head violently trembled.

You did what you could to help her ride out her orgasm, running your tongue through every surface that contained her juices, cleaning her up and making sure not to waste a drop. It took several moments for her orgasm to subside as she released you from the constricting hold she had on you, allowing you to breathe for the first time in several minutes as you gasped for air.

“H-holy shit, baby, I came so hard,” Johyun said as she gingerly turned around to face you once more, looking down at the mess she had just left deposited on your face. You showed your appreciation by licking your lips, not even bothering to wipe her juices from your face as you pulled her into a kiss, making her taste herself on your tired lips.

“You taste so good. I wish I could eat you for every meal.”

Johyun laughed at your cheesiness, giving you another deep passionate kiss as she held onto both sides of your face.

“You made me feel so good. I want to make you feel even better.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well...seeing as you’re still rock hard for me,” she laughed, looking back and grabbing your throbbing hard cock.

“How about I ride you, baby? You did all the work for me, so I’ll do all the work for you now.”

“Ride my cock, then.”

Johyun was quick in her approach as she climbed onto the weight bench and straddled your lap as her soft thick thighs wrapped around your waist. There was lust and hunger in her eyes as she reached back behind her and claimed your hard cock, stroking it several times and couldn’t wait to be filled up with it.

“I want you so badly, baby. Fill me up with that thick cock, will you do that for me?”

“Of course. Whatever you want, baby.”

Johyun lifted her body up, letting you see the pink glistening flesh that was your destination, rubbing your tip in between her wet folds. She felt wetter than she had when your tongue was inside, and you wanted that wetness all over your cock, something you weren’t going to wait long for.

Carefully lining up your cock with her pussy, Johyun aimed it at her dripping hot entrance. She bit her lip in preparation and pushed her hips down, parting her silky lips as she sank down and let every inch enter her body with a loud greedy moan.

“Baby, you’re so big,” Johyun said, taking a moment to gather herself as she took a deep breath. Her tight dripping walls were so warm, squeezing your shaft to make sure you weren’t leaving her body anytime soon.

With hands on her slim tight waist you shared exchanged glances of lust, waiting for the pleasure to be delivered equally.

“Ride that cock, baby” you demanded, as if she were looking for your permission. Johyun placed both hands on your chest, flashing a smile as she moved in small motions, using her hips to grind on your cock.

You felt wetness and warmth surrounding your shaft, amplified by every rock of her hips. Johyun took it slow at first, watching herself in the gym mirror.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Johyun said as she rode your cock, establishing a rhythm. Every entrance into her pussy caused a satisfied moan to escape her lips as she took you deep into her body.

Her pace quickened, hips working in smooth movements as she took your shaft inside with ease, juices lubricating to make every motion fluid as could be.

Johyun was so wet and tight around your cock as her perfect large breasts bounced up and down beautifully. You captured both mounds in your hands, squeezing the delightful soft flesh with your fingertips.

You felt your cock bring drenched with juices as Johyun rode you harder, bouncing her ass on your crotch.

With Johyun’s soft breasts in your hands you massaged them, pinching her rosy pink nipples that had stiffened at your touch. You quickly gave each of her voluptuous tits a slap, causing a gasp from Johyun as she tightened around you, signaling her enjoyment.

"Oh fuck, baby. Slap those big tits!"

You did as she asked, slapping each of tits individually in succession several times, pinching her nipples in between. You slapped both tits at the same time over and over, watching the satisfying ripple of soft flesh and the loud smack of flesh on flesh as you left your handprints on the tender skin. Johyun let out several desperate needy moans, her pussy constricting even more around your shaft.

Massaging the now tender skin, you fondled Johyun’s sore breasts, playing with her nipples as you brought your mouth to her chest, kissing each mound before licking stripes up and down her cleavage, tasting the sweat collected already.  

She flashed a look of appreciation as you dove in, latching your lips onto each of her sensitive nipples, hungrily sucking each one. Johyun whined as you slurped on her juicy tits, bouncing carelessly on your cock as you covered them in saliva, biting, licking, and sucking on her tits as if you couldn’t ever have your fill.

Johyun became more aggressive, slamming her body down hard on you as her sweaty thighs met your own, each bounce more forceful, more full of wanton desire. You kept your assault on her breasts going, giving teasing flicks against her sensitive nipples as you felt your cock being drowned in her juices.

You ran your hands all over Johyun’s sweaty body, feeling every curve of her perfectly sculpted body. Johyun moved swiftly and grabbed the back of your head, pushing you deep into her cleavage and smothering you with her large heavy breasts, the perfect resting space for your face.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby!” Johyun cried out, as for the second time you felt it hard to breathe, not that you ever would have complained. Her nails dug into your skull as she forced you deeper into her tits, enjoying being smothered by the softest pair of pillows you’ve ever felt.

Johyun aggressively rode your cock as you tried to ilck whatever flushed skin you could find, wildly moving her hips without a care, the loud slap of skin on skin echoing all around the gym walls.

“Cum on my cock,” you muffled out, feeling the tight dripping walls of Johyun’s needy pussy pulsating around you harshly.

“I-will, f-fuck! I’m cumming, baby!”

It was quick and wordless, moans escaping Johyun’s throat as she rode you to completion. Her bouncing thighs felt so warm and soft as they crashed against your body, as did her delicious buttcheeks smacking against your own skin. In seconds flat Johyun became a loud squirming mess, drenching your crotch with her nectar as her thighs trembled violently. Her warm wet pussy pulsated while you let her have your way with you until her intense orgasm settled down.

You didn’t let up, pumping your shaft inside Johyun to catch up, desperately wanting to chase your own orgasm as well. With the intense pressure around your cock you pumped harshly inside, the slapping of your skin against her own as you fucked her, squeezing her delicious round ass.

“Are you close, baby?” Johyun asked, her voice still frail from her climax as her glazed over eyes struggled to keep open as she flashed a sweet smile.

You answered only with words, bouncing Johyun aggressively on your cock repeatedly as your eyes were unable to focus on anything besides her bouncing tits.

“I want you to cum now. Fill me up and cum inside me, please, baby, please cum for me,” Johyun begged, and it wouldn’t be much longer before she would have her wish.

The air inside the gym grew harder to breathe as you reached those final moments, watching the lustful look inside Johyun’s eyes as you both waited for the inevitable.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Johyun,” you said the final set of words before the pleasure in your body became too much to handle. With one more set of thrusts you buried your cock deep inside Johyun as your cock throbbed, mercifully emptying several spurts of hot thick semen deep into her walls all the way to her womb and keeping your hands full of her delicious asscheeks.

Johyun kept her eyes on you as you finished emptying your seed deep into her cunt, letting her pussy milk your shaft of every last drop until she had taken everything into her body as your body shook from the pleasure of such an intense orgasm.

“That’s what I like, baby,” Johyun said with a pleased smile, leaning down to give one more kiss before gently lifting her tight naked body from your depleted shaft. Your cock released from her pussy with a loud forceful pop as your freshly deposited load slowly leaked from between Johyun’s thick thighs, releasing a creamy liquid mixture of both of your bodies that escaped from her freshly fucked pussy.

“We really made a mess,” Johyun shyly said, using her tongue to clean off your cock before before grabbing the closest towel and wiping off the workout bench.

“I blame you,” you teased, still catching your breath. “Let’s get out of here and take that shower.”

✦✦

It was a safe assumption to say that Johyun was a bit of a screamer. And there was no better place to let out her lustful emotions than in your shared apartment underneath the hot water currently steaming up your large bathroom.

Water droplets bounced off Johyun’s milky wet skin as you pinned her tight naked body against the shower door, smacking your hips against her ass in a rhythm as you drilled her harshly from behind. Her large round breasts were mashed against the glass surface as her palms flattened against it, desperate to find any outlet for the sharp pleasure running up her spine as she was impaled to the hilt with a thick cock repeatedly without mercy.

“F-fuck, that’s so good! Just like that baby, don’t stop fucking me!” Johyun moaned as your hands squeezed her hips tightly, making sure her body never left your fingers.  

Hot water ran down both of your bodies, accentuating the already flawless curves of Johyun’s naked body as the smack of flesh on flesh echoed around the shower walls, mixing with needy screams and cries of pleasure. The shower door shook with every thrust of your shaft, moving in and out of her pussy carelessly as your hands moved from Johyun’s full wide hips up to her soapy wet breasts and squeezed firmly.

“You like being fucked like this?” you growled near Johyun’s ear, feeling her wet walls clenching around your cock in response that brought a smile on your features from ear to ear as your bodies crashed together and you nibbled on her earlobe.  

“Y-yes, f-fuck, yes, baby I do!”

While you appreciated Johyun’s love of public sex and the thrill it brought, you vastly preferred fucking her in the privacy and comfort of your apartment, able to freely let out your raw emotions and be as loud as you wanted without bothering anyone else.

You gave Johyun a handful more thrusts before letting your cock slip out of her tight pussy as she whined cutely from being abruptly empty, a feeling that wouldn’t last long thankfully.

Taking a moment to admire the view, every curve and naked flesh of Johyun’s bare body, you rubbed your wet shaft all over the inner flesh of her warm soapy thighs, and she knew just what to do as her thighs closed around your shaft, trapping you in between them - one of your favorite places to be.

Johyun’s sculpted body was nothing but perfect, every body part flawless and worked together to create a work of art. It was regretful to not be able to see Johyun’s big supple breasts, your favorite part of her body if you had to pick one, but being able to fuck her thighs was just as pleasurable to you.

Her thighs brought immense pleasure, just as much as other parts of her body. They were thick, creamy, and most importantly felt amazing wrapped around your dick, you never wanted to leave their comfort.

They felt softer than silk as your cock was sandwiched in between her warm flesh, using her muscles and squeezing tight to keep you trapped inside her thighs, a destination you never wanted to leave.

“Mmm, baby, fuck those thighs,” Johyun pleaded, as your throbbing cock slowy slid in and out of her soft flesh, the body wash left all over her body making it the perfect lubricant to allow the smoothest friction possible. You held onto Johyun’s insanely wide hips, letting out needy groans that echoed as your shaft was being smothered by the softest thing you’ve ever felt and giving off heavenly sensations.

You closed your eyes for just a moment, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the feeling of delicious soft flesh surrounding your cock as your pace increased. When you opened your eyes back up you felt a wetness forming, not just from the shower but the juices from Johyun’s leaking pussy, aiding your ability to thrust even more so and ensuring this was something you were both enjoying.

“That feels so good, baby. Does it feel good for you? Does it feel good to fuck my thighs?” Johyun asked, her legs squeezing even tighter as you gasped at the pleasure that was driving you insane.

You didn’t feel like answering, not that Johyun didn’t already know how good you felt in that moment as every bit of pleasure shot through each section of your body, jolts of electricity putting you in a deep euphoric state.

“I wish I could fuck these thighs forever,” you said, increasing your pace even more as you felt a familiar tightness in your abdomen, a sensation you were equal parts thankful and annoyed at.

“If you work on your stamina maybe you can,” Johyun teased, and you couldn’t think of a better set of motivation.

It was like your body was taunting you as you felt your climax approaching right then, a moment that Johyun couldn’t help but notice, but you still felt the need to announce.

“I’m going to fucking cum,” you hissed, louder than expected.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess all over my thighs.”

It really didn’t take much longer. Gripping her hips tightly as you could, you kept the slippery motion going until you knew you had to give in, throbbing between the warm flesh you were trapped between as you shot hot cum onto Johyun’s thighs, grunting with every spurt as the rest of your load sprayed the shower door.

You kept pumping in between Johyun’s thighs as long as you could stand it, never wanting to forget the euphoric feeling as your cock was milked again for the second time. Your thrusts began subsiding until your sensitivity kicked in and you could barely move, resting between Johyun’s warm thighs as you recovered, catching your breath.

You slowly withdrew from the warmth of Johyun as she spun around to meet you, a smile curled on her lips.

“We didn’t get very clean did we?” Johyun said with a cute tilt of her head, grabbing the shower head as she washed the suds off her body.

“I only have you to blame.”

Johyun’s mouth opened in surprise. “Me? You have your share too!” she whined in protest.

“But you seduced me with your body. Like you always do.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “You caught me. I’m guilty," she said with a perfect smile on such a perfect face as she made sure to wash off every bit of soap before turning off the water.

The two of you stepped out of the shower, Johyun grabbing a towel to tie up her hair while she dried the rest of her body. It didn't take you long to towel off as you headed into the bedroom and flopped face first into the sheets with exhaustion, not even bothering to get dressed.

Johyun stepped out of the shower shortly after, tossing her towel off her hair when she saw your lifeless body on the bed and joining, pressing her body against yours as you could feel her breasts on your back.

"Baby, don't tell me you're going to sleep already. You still need to fuck me some more," she said abruptly.

"You wore me out," you replied, grabbing a pillow and burying your face in it, pretending to sleep.

"Baby…" Johyun whined, rubbing your shoulders and kissing the back of your neck.

"I can't believe we had sex in the gym and nobody caught us," Johyun said.

You lazily flipped around, meeting her gaze as her hands rested on your shoulders.

"We shouldn't have gotten caught since you said nobody goes there at night."

"Usually."

"Usually?" you repeated.

"Nobody showed up the few times I went there, so it was a safe assumption."

"Few times? I thought you went there every night."

"I do, but I just started going there a couple weeks ago," Johyun said, smiling mischievously.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you had been tricked.

"But you know the neighborhood, right? Nothing but old people?"

"I have no idea, baby. I just go there after work," she said as her grin increased.

"Johyun. We really could have gotten caught-"

"But we didn't, did we?"

"You're bad."

"Oh? Am I?" Johyun asked as she bit the tip of one of her fingertips.

"Yes. My baby was naughty tonight wasn't she?"

"But you love when I'm naughty don't you?"

“You know I do. You’re my naughty little slut,” you said, responding with a quick slap on her bare ass, causing a gasp to escape her lips.

“Are you going to punish your naughty little slut?” Johyun asked, biting her lip deeply and staring into with the deepest gaze.

“I just might do that. How should I punish you?”

“You should fuck me. Fuck me so hard that I can’t walk tomorrow. “

You furrowed an eyebrow in response at such something relatively tame. “But I do that every day, that doesn’t like much of a punishment. “

“Then fuck me here,” Johyun said as she guided one your hands between her plump ass, spreading her cheeks to let you know just where she wanted you. You teased her puckered hole with your middle finger, looking at the look of approval in her eyes.

“Is there where you want it? You want my cock right here?” you asked.

Johyun playfully nodded. “I know you’ve been dying to fuck my ass since we left the gym. Well now you have the chance, don’t you baby?” she asked, gesturing towards the bedside table drawer.

You both smiled together as Johyun climbed off your body, positioning herself onto the bed on her hands and knees while you grabbed a bottle from the drawer. You never got tired of the sight of Johyun’s big round ass as you lined yourself, feeling the blood to your loins again as you were hard as a rock.

Before you did anything you squeezed Johyun’s buttcheeks firmly, giving each one a hard slap as her soft flesh rippled. You gave her beautiful supple ass repeated smacks, the loud crack of your palm on her flesh until her cheeks had a light pink tone on them, continuing to smack Johyun’s plump ass until you were satisfied.

“Is this my punishment?”

“Of course not, baby. I know you love this too much.”

You caught a smirk on Johyun’s face as she looked over her shoulder, watching as you continued slapping her ass under her skin was sore, rubbing your hands all over her skin to soothe out the stinging sensations.

“I do love it,” Johyun said, wiggling her ass cheeks as you continued caressing her tender skin.

“But I’ll love it even more when you put that cock in my ass,” she said with a devilish smile that you returned. You lubed up her tight puckered hole and your shaft, admiring what a perfect backside she had as you gave her body a gentle push. Johyun got the hint, sliding her long legs under your body and laying flat on her stomach, allowing you to take her at your mercy as her naked body was completely prone.

You positioned yourself carefully after taking a moment to admire Johyun’s full supple ass and the soft cheeks you were about to drive yourself deep into, spreading your thighs wide and resting them on the outside of her ass.

You gave her full tender cheeks another smack with both hands and brought your shaft in the middle of them, gently thrusting in between the warmth and softness of her flesh, sampling the appetizer before you were about to have the main course. With your slick cock in one hand you lined yourself up with the puckered hole waiting patiently for you, holding a hip with the other as you teased Johyun’s back entrance you were about to enter.

“Put it in my ass already, baby,” Johyun whined, sharing your impatience as your tip rubbed against the rim of her ass. Pushing carefully, you let out a light moan as you entered Johyun’s tight asshole with your tip, watching it slowly sink inside as you penetrated her more intimate area.

Johyun took a deep breath as her muscles relaxed, allowing you to push deeper into her ass with ease. This wasn’t the first time you had partaken in anal sex. Hell it wasn’t even the first time that week that you had entered her tighter hole. Johyun loved anal as much as you did thankfully, with an ass like hers that she was proud of it wasn’t surprising that she loved it being filled, wanting you to take her in her butt just as much as her other holes.

“You can go deeper, baby,” Johyun said, a set of words that you were always happy to hear as you filled her more inch by inch as her ass swallowed up more of your shaft. The tightness you felt squeezing your shaft as you pushed in deeper was like nothing else you’ve felt. Her ass was so much tighter than her pussy, which already was incredibly tight hugging your cock and refusing to let go. Each inch that entered Johyun’s body was clenched tight, fitting perfectly inside her until you had filled her up to the hilt.

You gave her a moment to adjust to your length, which wasn’t necessary as expected.

“F-fuck, baby you feel so good inside me. Fuck my ass, baby.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You held onto her wide hips and began thrusting in and out of her incredibly tight ass, feeling the deep clench of your shaft with every movement. You didn’t bother with any type of build up, you knew she didn’t need it as you gave hard forceful thrusts into her ass, using the power in your hips as your cock stretched her tight little hole.

“How does that ass feel, baby?” Johyun asked.

“So good. You’re so fucking tight, baby,” you replied as you formed a rhythm, moving in and out of Johyun’s super tight asshole at a steady pace.

“Harder, baby. Pound my ass.”

You wanted nothing more as you held onto both of her delicious ass cheeks for leverage and upped your pace, pressing your fingers into the soft flesh as your hips smacked against her ass, causing the bed to squeak loudly with every motion.

“Oh fuck, just like that, baby. That cock feels so good in my ass.“

You were losing your mind at how good the pleasure felt. Your lubed cock slid in and out to the hilt with each thrust, the loud slap of flesh on flesh filled the room as you pounded into Johyun’s tight little hole. Her face was buried into the mattress as her hands formed tight fists, squeezing the bed sheets desperately and trying to find an outlet for the intense pleasure as you impaled her repeatedly.

“You’re so deep in my ass, don’t stop!” Johyun cried out, as you were giving her body the hardest thrusts possible. Her cries, moans, and gasps were every bit of encouragement you needed as you slammed into her ass, using every bit of force to make sure she felt every bit of your cock.

You loved being this rough with Johyun, and judging by the constant stream of drawn-out moans she loved it just as much, taking every thrust so well.

“Oh god, baby, I love when you fuck me like this. Keep fucking my ass, don’t stop until you cum in it!”

Well, you certainly didn’t want to disappoint her. You held onto her shoulders as you pounded into her tight gripping asshole, the bed shaking wildly underneath each harsh thrust in a way you weren’t sure it was going to hold.

Sweat began misting on your body, dripping down your forehead as you kept up the merciless pace. You were giving Johyun everything you had as she moaned lustfully with every thrust, taking every inch of your cock so well and not wanting you to let up.

“I’m so close, baby,” you moaned out as you continued pounding her ass roughly as possible, feeling the hot tightness of her hole as you used it for your pleasure, causing the flesh of her big ass to ripple as you pumped in and out of her.

“Cum inside me, baby. Fill my ass.”

“I fucking will,” you growled back, slamming into Johyun’s ass as hard as you could, losing your self control as you drilled into her hot tight hole and savored those final moments. It was so rough, so raw, so animalistic that you couldn’t help last that much longer.

It took just a handful of thrusts more before you reached your limits, throbbing inside Johyun as you sent spurts of thick hot cum deep into her impossibly tight ass, filling her up to the brim. The two of you moaned together as your shaft continued emptying into Johyun, draining your balls as her body milked you dry of every drop, making sure you didn’t leave a single drop outside.

You rested for several moments, attempting to catch your breath as you press your body against Johyun, kissing her neck several times just below her ear, sharing a chorus of heaving breathing and gasps.

“Baby...you came so much inside me,” Johyun said proudly as you kissed her shoulders and upper back. “It’s so warm…”

When you feel your breathing had normalized, you slowly slipped your shaft out of Johyun’s backside an inch at a time. You watched your generous load leaking out of Johyun’s gaping asshole and dripping down her thighs, a warm thick stream that flowed freely and spilled onto the sheets.

“You made me cum so much,” you replied, crashing besides her onto the mattress in an exhausted heap.

“Wanna go again?” Johyun teased, running a finger through her messy thighs to collect a sample of your freshly given semen before taking it into her mouth and sucking it clean. You were too exhausted to formulate any type of response, and Johyun took your silence as an answer as her sweaty body rested against yours.

“You really did a number on me, baby,” Johyun said, her massive breasts resting on your chest as she smiled sweetly at you.

You could only stare at Johyun’s beauty, trying to think of anything to say but finding words difficult in that moment. Sometimes it was better off this way. You didn’t care how long it took to work on your stamina, knowing that it meant countless hours of sex with Johyun was the best possible way to train.

[asweetprologue]

Words: 2618, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Witcher

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Additional Tags: Fluff, geralt has a fixation on jaskier's hands, Pining, Confessions, it's about the hands tm

Inspired directly by this post by @valdomarx​

“I didn’t even ask you to come this time, witcher. I don’t know why you’re acting so dour,” Jaskier pouted. He was standing in front of a small mirror that he’d propped up against the table, the only thing with a reflection in the small inn. His shirt was untucked over his tight pants, which were a startling peacock blue this time around. It was a fetching color, nearly matching the bard’s eyes, though Geralt would never voice such a thought aloud. He was fiddling with the ties at the front of the cream shirt, trying to decide on a complicated pattern of lacing that was well beyond Geralt’s understanding. The smell of wisteria and honeysuckle filled the room, overwhelming in its recent application. Jaskier rarely used scents beyond soaps while they were traveling, and Geralt preferred when he could more easily smell the distinct musk of the bard himself, rather than cloying perfumes. 

He grunted in response to Jaskier’s comment, leaning against the bedpost. The inn was nice, actually, even though it was small. The sheets smelled fresh, the mattress was free of holes, and there was even a full bath off of the main room. Jaskier had sunk more funds into their accommodations than usual, expecting a big payout from the ball he’d been hired to perform at for the next several nights. “I’m not being ‘dour’,” Geralt said, watching Jaskier tug his shirt closed. His fingers played over the laces, easily working them into a tight series of delicate knots. Geralt wasn’t lying, truthfully. He wasn’t so much dour as… distracted. His eyes followed Jaskier’s hands as they tucked in his shirt, revealing his slim hips. The bard tugged here and there on the fabric, his fingers fluttering about as he searched for just the right amount of artful dishevelment. 

Geralt noticed Jaskier’s hands. 

He wasn’t sure if this was a universal experience or not. Over the past few months, he’d overcome the initial shock of realizing he was interested in the bard. He’d known Jaskier for years - closer to decades - and it certainly was a notion that took some adjusting to. One day Geralt had just looked up and realized that the gangly limbed youth he’d met in Posada had turned into an extremely attractive man, a man Geralt very much wanted to put his hands on. The thought had been startling, and he’d spent full weeks telling himself that it was a fluke. And yet he was captivated by Jaskier’s broad shoulders, his strong thighs, his infuriatingly dexterous fingers. It was embarrassing really. 

But, he reasoned, he was in good company; literally half the Continent wanted to fuck Jaskier. Geralt was particularly unique in that regard. It was honestly more spectacular that he was a person who wanted to sleep with Jaskier who hadn’t. It was a bitter draught to swallow, but Geralt accepted it. Few people wanted a witcher in their bed for more than an hour, and he knew that it could never be a simple one time roll in the hay between himself and Jaskier. Geralt was already spending much of his time reminding himself that he was not and could not be infatuated with Jaskier, the famous bard, womanizer and, above all, his best friend. He was at least self aware enough to know that Jaskier’s rejection would be painful, and that losing him as a companion was unacceptable. 

Still, this left him with a predicament. While he assumed Jaskier had caught on to his developing feelings quickly enough, Geralt didn’t want to make the bard uncomfortable with his attentions. He tried not to let anything change between them. He didn’t reach out to pull Jaskier closer when they shared a bed at night, he didn’t give him the best cuts of meat during meals, he didn’t buy small, intricate rings or beautiful leather bound journals for him when they went to the market. He would think about it and then turn away, and keep things how they’d always been. Jaskier was bright and loud and annoying, and Geralt was quiet and snappish. If the bard had wanted anything more, he would have made it clear long before now. Geralt was doing a pretty good job of keeping things platonic, he thought. He probably would have been totally successful if Jaskier hadn’t chosen a lute, of all the cursed instruments, as his primary tool of the trade. 

The issue was that Geralt had something of a preoccupation with Jaskier’s hands, which may be a common experience but might be unique to Geralt himself, much to his dismay. They were just exceedingly nice to look at. They had long and elegant fingers with wide, reassuring palms that had spent hours cleaning, patching up and comforting the witcher. They were unscared except for a thin white line under his right ring finger, where Jaskier said he’d been punctured by a nail as a child. Though that wasn’t to say that they were totally unblemished. Years of playing had worn deep calluses onto the tips of his fingers, rougher skin that made Geralt shiver when they played over his scalp as they so often did. 

They were nice hands, but it wasn’t just that. They were expressive, an extension of whatever Jaskier felt at the moment. Geralt never knew what to do with his hands if he wasn’t in a fight, but Jaskier’s moved constantly. When he was angry they curled into fists and pointed fingers, elbows tights against his body as he raged at some perceived slight. When he was happy or excited, they darted about him in wide, sweeping gestures, an unspoken language that Geralt thought he might be able to read now without words. When he was tired they dragged, lingering on Geralt’s shoulders or pulling at the seams of his armor as he bullied the witcher into bed. Those moments were almost the worst, picking away at Geralt’s already frayed control, but he found it got to him the most when Jaskier was playing. 

To say that Jaskier transformed when he played was not quite accurate. It was closer to say that he became. Jaskier was always intense, bright and focused and vibrant, but when he picked up his lute and stepped onto a stage he was resplendent. When Geralt had first met him, he’d thought maybe Jaskier was a siren, or some kind of incubus, luring men in with his honeyed words and saccharine melodies. He’d quickly realized that no, Jaskier was as human as they came, but it didn’t stop others from acting like they’d been bewitched when he was around. Jaskier performing was Jaskier at both his least and most genuine, distilled into whatever the crowd needed him to be most at that moment. It was enthralling, to say the least, and Geralt wasn’t immune to the draw. 

At first watching the lute had been a defense mechanism, of a sort. Watching Jaskier himself was almost too intense, and Geralt felt exposed anytime their eyes met across a crowded room. So he’d taken to watching Jaskier’s hands, flying across the strings of the lute and dancing up the neck. Initially it had been only intriguing, and he’d found himself impressed by the bard’s skill. He was faster and more precise than any other player Geralt had come across, while remaining gentle in his ministrations. Jaskier touched the strings of his lute with such tenderness, as if he were caressing a lover.

One night while watching the bard, Geralt had though, Sometimes he touches me like that. And after that he was well and truly lost. 

“I’m just saying,” Jaskier said, bringing Geralt sharply back to the present, “while I would never begrudge your presence, I don’t think the response to Toss a Coin will be as enthusiastic if the titular witcher is off glowering in a corner.” He reached for his doublet, a green jacket picked out with yellow thread that looked like gold in the right light. It was beside Geralt on the bed, and he nearly flinched away from Jaskier’s grasping hands. He thanked every god above that he no longer had the ability to blush the same way a human did, knowing that he would be pink in the face after watching Jaskier lace up his shirt sleeves. The man was actively putting clothes on and Geralt was nearly sweating from it. 

“I’m not going to glower in a corner,” he grumbled. 

Jaskier gave him a look that displayed an insulting lack of faith in Geralt’s word. “Well,” he said, “at least you’re dressed appropriately.” He’d managed to wrestle Geralt into a black jacket and a pair of dress trousers, though Geralt had won the fight to keep his boots and his swords. It was better, Jaskier allowed, that the people be able to see the tools of the trade. The bard reached out to adjust the collar of Geralt’s shirt. The witcher forced himself to still as Jaskier’s knuckles grazed his Adam’s apple. His skin hummed where they’d made contact. 

Jaskier gave him a pat on the shoulder and turned away. “Well, we’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” he said, giving himself one last glance in the tiny mirror. With a grin, he turned to Geralt and said, “If you’re very good I’ll buy you one of those tarts from the market for breakfast tomorrow.”

The words if you’re good rolled over Geralt in a disconcerting way, curling up at the base of his spine and settling like they intended to live there. Shit. He made a slightly strangled sound of agreement that he hoped just sounded annoyed. 

As Jaskier reached for the door, Geralt noticed that the ties of Jaskier’s undershirt had gotten twisted around one of the buttons of his doublet. He must have accidentally pushed the clasp through a loop in the laces while he was doing them up. Geralt wouldn’t have noticed unless he was watching Jaskier’s hands, but it seemed like he was always watching Jaskier’s hands nowadays. Watching, anticipating, hoping for the next touch. Geralt reached out and snagged the bard’s wrist before he even really knew what he was doing.

“Um,” Jaskier said, eloquent as ever. Geralt turned his hand over - in for a penny, in for a crown - and started undoing the buttons on the doublet. Jaskier hummed in realization, seeing where the laces had twisted into a knot. Focusing on his task, Geralt bent his head slightly, pulling the thin string loose from its tangle. As he did so, pale, unmarked skin was revealed through the parted fabric, a spider web of delicate blue lines branching out before Jaskier’s warm palm. Geralt’s thumb brushed briefly over the veins, Jaskier’s skin as smooth and soft as fresh rose petals under his rough fingers. He was seized suddenly by an overpowering urge to put his mouth there, to breathe in the scent and find Jaskier hidden under all the oils and the smell of crisp linen. Without thinking too much of it, Geralt bent down and pressed his lips to Jaskier’s wrist, just below the swell of his thumb.

Jaskier gasped. 

It was like taking a mouthful of Thunderbolt - the world coming sharply into focus, his mind keenly aware of his surroundings. Geralt nearly jumped back, flinching away from the sound. Fuck. Why had he done that? He’d been helping with a fucking sleeve, it hadn’t required his mouth. Jaskier was going to be pissed. He was going to demand that Geralt stay here while he went to the banquet and then he would find someone to bed for the night and he wouldn't try to find Geralt in the morning, and Geralt would have to set back out on the Path alone all because he couldn’t control himself enough to lace up one sleeve - 

“Geralt?” Jaskier's voice cracked slightly. The witcher clenched his jaw, wincing. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice sounded strained even to his own ears. He couldn’t meet Jaskier’s gaze. “That was… inappropriate. Have fun at the ball.”

“You’re not coming?” Jaskier asked, sounding distressed now. His scent was still free of the sour stench of fear and anger, but Geralt could hear his heart beating faster. “Geralt, look at me. Just - Are you alright?” Hands came to rest on his shoulders, and Geralt was startled enough at the contact that he raised his eyes to meet Jaskier’s. 

The bard looked nervous, but there was something else in his face too. Something softer. Geralt swallowed heavily. “I shouldn’t have touched you like that,” he said. His face tingled with the phantom of a shameful flush. 

Jaskeir smoothed his hands gently down Geralt’s arms. A comfort the witcher certainly didn’t deserve. “I don’t mind,” Jaskier said, impossibly. He bit his lip, his tongue darting out to sooth the spot. Geralt couldn’t help but follow the motion even as Jaskier gave him a wry smile. “I wish you’d do it more, if I’m being entirely honest. After all these years, I assumed you weren’t interested.” He took a breath, as if he was about to launch into a very demanding ballad, or perhaps jump from a cliff. “But I very much am. Interested.” 

Geralt stared at him for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. Jaskier was looking at him with wide, expectant eyes. His infuriating fingers played anxiously over Geralt’s, not quite holding on. Unsure of what else he could reasonably do, Geralt kissed him. 

Jaskier’s hands flew away from his own, and Geralt had a singular crystalline moment of panic before he felt them threading through his hair. Jaskier twisted closer, throwing himself into the kiss with little of the finesse he was so renowned for. It was too hard and too fast, but Geralt drank it anyway, inviting Jaskier in with his tongue and trying to convince him to stay. His fingers tangled in the loose ties of the shirt sleeve, and he could feel Jaskier’s pulse against them. It was almost more intimate than the kiss itself. Jaskier’s heart beat quick and steady under his hand, a rapid tempo just for him. 

Finally Geralt pulled away, breathing hard as he pressed his forehead to the bard’s. “This is a fucking terrible idea,” he said. 

Jaskier jerked back a bit to glare at him. “How so? Counterpoint: I think it’s a singularly marvelous idea, actually.”

Geralt shifted slightly, uncomfortable. “I can’t… I don’t want to ruin this. You. What we have.”

“We could have more,” Jaskier said, uncharacteristically fragile. Geralt wanted so badly not to break him. “Anything. If you just want a fuck, that’s fine. We can do that. If you want more than that, I… That’s okay too. Or not. Whatever it is, whatever you want.” His fingers smoothed down the back of Geralt’s hair, just at the base of his skull. A caress, as soft as if he were playing his favorite instrument. Maybe he was. 

“I’m going to want you,” Geralt said, like a warning. “Longer than you want me.”

Jaskier looked indignant. It was one of Geralt’s favorite expressions, when it wasn’t directed at him. Maybe even then. “I doubt that very much,” Jaskier bit out. The fingers in Geralt’s hair tightened, and the witcher let out a shaky breath. “I have loved you for almost my entire adult life. I doubt I’m going to stop anytime soon.” Jaskier still looked nervous, but there was more anticipation in it than before. Something closer to hope. “So I’ll say it again: Whatever you want. What do you want, Geralt?”

“You,” Geralt said, leaning in again. He pressed the words against Jaskier’s lips. “Always you.”

“Then you have me,” Jaskier said, and he did. 

[marrys-dream-world]

if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter 13)

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Notes:  A bit happier with this chapter than I thought I would be. Day 13: Affection.

Working with Rena Rouge was different now. 

Ladybug hadn't thought someone knowing would be so freeing. She had spent the first week waking up in cold sweat, mind working at the speed of light to come up with counter plans from the nightmare scenarios it kept conjuring. Looking over her shoulder and expecting frantic calls from Alya's mom that something happened to her, that Shadow Moth took her became her common place. It went so badly that Alya took on commenting on her dark eye bags and fidgety hands. 

The perks were undeniable though. Having her friend by her side was also calming and reassuring in a way she never felt before. Alya had always been whip-smart and quick on her feet and having her come up with believable excuses so she could run and transform ("Sorry, Marinette, but Rose said that the next time you say you have sudden heart palpitations, she's going to take you to the doctor.") was very convenient. It wasn't limited to their civilian lives, however, and culminated on the perky Rena Rouge in front of her and Chat Noir.

"Ugh, I can’t wait to tell you guys what I found about miraculous maintenance in my last research. I wanted to talk about it earlier, but someone — “ Rena mock glared at Ladybug, who rolled her eyes and elbowed Chat Noir when the stifled a giggle. “— said I should wait until our next meeting so can we start? Please?”

“Oh, since you’re in such a hurry I guess you don’t want the treats…” Ladybug sing-songed, holding the Tom & Sabine’s patissiere box behind her back as Chat Noir organized the pillows she made so they would spend hours on the concrete of the rooftops. 

Almost simultaneously, Rena and Chat’s ears perked up and it was Ladybug’s turn to hide her giggle. 

“What did you bring?” Rena Rouge asked, voice deceptively nonchalant. 

Ladybug put her index finger to her lips, pretending to think. “Maybe… beignets?"

“Yes!” Her two companions shouted in unison as Ladybug gave up on hiding her grin, sitting down on her polka-dotted pillow. 

She set the box down in the middle of the pillow circle and quickly took her hand back as Rena and Chat jumped on the treats. 

“Okay, we can start now.” Ladybug said, watching as Rena perked up even more. “After you finish chewing.”

As her friend nodded, Ladybug felt a familiar weight on her shoulder and caught the sight of messy blond hair from the corner of her eye. She squirmed a little, finding it a little hard to grab her own food as her arm was pressed against her body by the boy leaning against her. Wordlessly, Chat Noir slid down and put his head down on her lap, munching carefully on the pastry in his hands so as to not let crumbs fall on her suit.

Smart kitty. She thought fondly. 

As she scanned the box to choose a beignet, Ladybug noticed Rena Rouge stopped chewing, half of her beignet hanging out of her mouth. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she started directly at them. Tensing up, Ladybug looked around them carefully as to not startle Chat Noir and, upon not seeing anything, turned back to her friend.

“What?” She mouthed, in case they were being heard. That seemed to snap Rena out of her state, as she ripped her pastry away from her mouth.

“Nothing at all.” Rena mouthed back before popping the rest of her beignet on her mouth.

“So, we’re starting?” Chat Noir said out loud, hand sneaking at what amounted to his, if Ladybug was counting right, fifth beignet. 

“Yeah, sure, let me just get my notes.” Rena said as she grabbed her little reporter notepad and opened it. “Okay, first of all, after intensive research, I can say the miraculous probably aren’t made from any metal known to men. They certainly don’t taste like any —”

As Rena went on with her thesis, Ladybug listened attentively as she munched on her beignet. Her other hand went, inevitably, to the fluffy blond mop of her lap. God, how did Chat keep his hair so soft? No matter how much she hydrated hers, it never felt like this. Also, his shampoo must have been expensive since she could smell the calming scent of honeysuckle everytime the wind ruffled his hair. 

When she heard Rena stop talking, she noticed her gaze was too busy between her partner and her beignet to pay attention to her friend and winced. Looking up to apologize, she noticed Rena’s cheeks were puffed and she was biting on her lips, face slowly turning red from lack of air. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Ladybug asked, crossing her arms. Chat Noir whined from the loss of her hand on his hair.

“Noth- pfffff.” Rena started, letting out a few huffs of laughter before composing herself. “It’s nothing, really, I’ll continue.”

“If you’re sure…” Ladybug said, trying to shove suspicion aside, and put her hand back on Chat’s head.

“I am.” Rena grinned, going back to her talk about the benefits of soaping the miraculous three times a day. 

After that, the reunion went on without much fanfare. The stand out point was, in Ladybug’s opinion, the very convincing arguments for giving the kwamis baths and Chat Noir begging her to send Tikki to convince Plagg to take a shower at least once a month. When he left with hand kisses for both the girls, Rena broke into laughter. 

“Alya?” She hissed, only making her friend laugh more. “What’s this all about?”

Rena hiccuped, cheeks flushed red. “God, Ladybug, you two are too much.”

“What does that mean?”

Rena Rouge didn't answer her, only gave her the tenderest touch to her face and swept her hair back while looking deeply into her eyes. It was nice, but she still slapped her hand away.

“Oh, so you can do that to Chat Noir but I can’t do that to you?” Rena smirked, watching Ladybug turn red. “I thought we were frieeends.”

“Stop it.”

“Oh, Chat Noir, your hair is so soft!”

“Stoooop!”

“Why would you need a pillow? Take my lap instead!”

“Alya!”

[dwellordream]

the best laid plans

day 1 for @wayhavensummer because this is the only prompt I'll have time to do this week!

T Rating (for one brief mention of sex and one brief reference to emotional abuse) Felix x Detective Esme Kingston, 2300 words

The migraine cuts her to her core, and Esme can’t even manage the usual dose of guilt and hesitance she’d feel about canceling plans with Tina. They were supposed to go away this weekend, and Esme hasn’t been on a vacation since uni, but right now she couldn’t even make her way out of her flat, never mind into a car for a seven hour drive down the coast. 

She feels like vomiting, the pain is so intense, as if she’d been concussed. Migraines have been a constant for her since puberty; she has a vivid memory of her first one, when she was thirteen, and the long wait in the nurse’s office at the private school her mother paid so much money for. The same mother who eventually sent someone else to pick her up, ninety minutes after the first phone call. 

Esme doesn’t even remember who it was; some Agency intern? A vampire? A demon? Whoever it was, they brought her home, gave her some painkillers, and told her to sleep it off. She woke up hours later, in the middle of the night, to a still empty house. Rebecca had come home briefly to leave a note for her about some leftovers in the fridge and another one excusing her from school the next day if need be, and then gone straight back to work. 

Maybe Esme should have been outraged or hurt by this, but she doesn’t recall feeling much of anything at the time beyond hunger, when the pain had finally receded enough to think straight. She ate the leftovers cold in their sterile, silent kitchen, and put herself back to bed.

The migraines had intensified through high school, to the point where her mother considered putting her on permanent medication, before receding just before she went away to university. After that they were far more infrequent, which was both a blessing and a curse- it was easy to forget what the pain felt like, and to feel like it was weak, lazy of her to let it get the best of her. 

Bobby certainly didn’t help matters; the first one Esme had during their relationship came around shortly after they’d had sex for the first few times, and Bobby quickly became convinced this was her version of ‘not tonight, dear, I have a headache-’. That she was, for some ludicrous reason, exaggerating her migraines. 

If she didn’t want to have sex with him, she’d never had much of an issue saying as much, bluntly, clinically. Another thing he despaired of- her lack of social graces, her insistence on saying exactly what she meant, in her usual ‘ice queen’ manner. Now he had reason to call her frigid in more ways than one. 

Esme still isn’t sure how things between them ever lasted as long as seven torturous months. She assumes they both had a private masochistic streak- why else would two people who made one another so blatantly unhappy stay together? 

Bobby isn’t here now, of course, to whinge and moan about her ignoring him, but there’s still a little voice in her head telling her to get up and stop acting like a baby when the evening rolls around. The pain has greatly lessened, thankfully, and she’s hungry, which is usually a good sign, but she’s also exhausted and cranky and generally miserable, feeling as though an entire day was wasted, one she could have spent with her best friend, on her way to a vacation. 

Now, again, she is alone in a dark room. She slowly rolls over onto her side, bracing for a wave of pain or nausea, then pushes herself up onto her elbows and gropes at her night table for her phone. She has several missed calls and texts. Two from Tina, one from her mother, and one from Felix, which is the most recent, about thirty minutes ago. 

Felix H: omw over to drop stuff off. 30 min???

She checks the time, then jumps, almost bashing her head into the headboard, when she hears a quiet knock at her door. For a moment Esme considers lying back down and not answering it; Felix can be persistent but he would never try to break her door down, especially when he knows she’s ill. 

Then she clambers out of bed, some instinct driving her, a desperate kind of loneliness- for an instant tears spring to her eyes, as if she were a child again, terrified of being left alone, that she will just miss him, that she will pull open the door and he will already be gone-

“Ez?”

He’s right there when she yanks open the door, the chain still in place. Esme undoes it and pulls the door open all the way. Felix is staring at her, a small bag of groceries in hand. Vampires have far better temperature regulation than humans but it’s obvious he is feeling the heat; for once he’s not wearing a beanie or any kind of hat or cap at all. 

He’s gotten his hair braided recently; Esme looks at him for a moment, staggered by the fact, as always, that even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of her narrow hallway. Felix’s dark skin has a sheen all its own, magnified by his golden eyes. 

He prods her shoulder gently with the pad of his thumb. “If you faint on me, I’m gonna drop your gifts.”

“My gifts?” Esme shakes her head, leading the way back into her darkened flat. It’s much more cluttered than usual; she never finished packing for the trip she was supposed to take today. 

Felix does not reach for a light switch; he has perfect vision in the dark, and light from the parking lot is spilling through her blinds. Instead he sets the bag on her counter and sorts through it as enthusiastically as Santa Claus on Christmas, or a child sorting through their Halloween candy. 

“Min tea,” he says, “cold packs, squash, sweet potatoes, brown rice, dried cranberries…”

“Did you just look up ‘what to eat and drink for a migraine’?” Esme manages to ask, bemused. 

He looks up, a sheepish smile quirking at his soft lips. “If I say yes…”

“I’m impressed,” she says. “And.. thank you. Very much. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I didn’t have to supply my ailing girlfriend with nutritious food and drink?” he waves the bottle of mint teat in her face vigorously. 

“Ailing? I’m not eighty five years old, Felix.”

“That’s right, I’m the old man here,’ he cackles, then amends, “Or, will be. Technically we’re not that far apart in age but eventually when you start decaying-,”

“Decaying?” As usual, his word choice both horrifies and amuses her. 

Felix has even less of a filter than her, but with the opposite effect. She comes across as cold and controlling. He comes across as… well, ‘space cadet’ has been used a few times, but Esme likens it to a time traveler. Only, not from the past, and not quite from the future. A parallel visitor. Something out of the Twilight Zone, only… warm and colorful and eager to please. That’s Felix.

He shrugs. “Succumbing to the elements?”

“I’m not a castle,” she mutters, but pours herself a cup of cold mint tea. Will it be as good as if she’d brewed it herself here at home, no, but at the moment she doesn’t care. 

He puts the rest away in her small fridge while she drinks, leaving out the cranberries, then circles warily, as if approaching a wild animal, when she finishes off her cup. “Can I-,” his fingers ghost along the back of her neck. The hairs there raise and she shivers violently, but not in fear or pain. 

“Yes,” she murmurs, then leans back into his embrace as he wraps his arms around her. 

They scuttle over to the sofa like that, and ease down together. Felix is not terribly tall, and she is average height, so there’s scarcely a few inches between them. Esme has always liked that. All the others she’s been with had towered over her, and it made her feel spoilt and delicate in an undesirable, bratty kind of way, as if she were childish, some little princess to be coddled and indulged. Or maybe that’s just her projecting onto everything else that makes up a relationship besides height differences. 

For now, she is content to lie back so her head rests against Felix’s, cheek to cheek. His is silken smooth; she knows he is fastidious about shaving, the same as her. 

“You’re feeling better, though?” he murmurs, and snakes a hand under her pyjama top as if to check. Splayed warm against her belly, it tickles for an instant and she smiles. 

“Yes. It’s mostly passed. I’m just tired. And annoyed. Tina was really looking forward to this trip. She’ll still have fun by herself, but it was supposed to be the two of us, and I’m always canceling plans.”

“You are not,” says Felix, reasonably. “You’re just busy. And you couldn’t help it this time, you were sick. She knows that.”

Esme nods; for all his jokes and quips, Felix is always sensible in a manner that she finds comforting- stating the obvious isn’t such a bad thing when dealing with someone like her. 

“I hate being sick,” she murmurs, rolling onto her side so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her more securely, even intertwines their legs. Felix sleeps like this too, though at this point he’s only spent the night a few times. 

Esme is taking things as slowly as she dares, given all the other factors at play- her mother, their work, the rest of the team, the fact that he is a vampire from another dimension and she is the human equivalent of dry toast… 

“I kind of like it,” Felix confesses, with just enough lilt in his voice that she knows he’s half teasing.

Esme grumbles vengefully into his shirt. He smells like coconut butter and vanilla. She doesn’t know if that’s his aftershave or just the essence of Felix, refined to the purest degree. Sometimes he smells like cinnamon to her, or lavender and honeysuckle. 

Felix tolerates these assessments but likes to claim that it’s him producing some kind of super pheromones perfectly designed for luring in unsuspecting human prey. Or his girlfriend. Or both. 

Esme has not been anyone’s girlfriend in a long time. Years. It feels very strange. Before him, it’d been so long since she’d even touched anyone, besides Tina or her mother or shaking hands. That absence did not hurt Esme. But being with Felix is like an unexpected delight. Free dessert. Extra sprinkles on your sundae. Any number of juvenile metaphors she should be above, but isn’t. 

“You’re not going to ask why I like it?” He is winding his fingers through her hair, which she let down from its usual tight ponytail to ease the tension on her scalp.

“Because you like to mock me?” she ventures.

“No,” says Felix. “Because you would have gone away with Tina, and now I get to see you. And hold you.” He presses an astoundingly gentle kiss to her brow, like a feather.

Esme feels a queer stab of guilt. “I didn’t know you’d minded so much.”

“I don’t mind,” he says quickly. “I was happy for you to get away for once. I’m not going to third wheel you and your best friend.”

“I think the terms refers to the opposite-,”

“Hush hush,” he interrupts, which gets a giggle out of her. “But this is like… an unexpected delight.”

The back of her neck prickles. “Can you read minds?” she asks, half serious.

“Not yet,” he sounds smug. “I have great intuition.”

“Because you’re a vampire?”

“No, because I’m me,” he boasts. “Look at Ava’s intuition. Terrible.”

Esme laughs again. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“She’s always expecting the worse. And Nat swings in the other direction. Always wants to play nice and hug it out.”

“And Mason?” Esme teases, feeling energetic enough not to raise her head so her chin is on his chest. Their noses are almost touching.

“Eh… he’s alright,” Felix breathes, and then closes the gap with a kiss. 

Esme kisses him back, more passionately than she’d meant to, and only stops it when he starts to sit up so she is straddling his lap. 

“I don’t think I can…”

“Eat some cranberries?” He grins impishly and hands her the bag from the coffee table.

Esme smiles and bumps her forehead against his, something she did impulsively after their first kiss and which he never let her live down. 

“What are we, cats?” he says, on cue, but brushes his nose and lips down her cheek and onto her neck, as if to nuzzle her in turn. “Eat some fruit before your migraine comes back. Do you want me to put some of this stuff away?”

“No,” she says, pushing him back down on the sofa. “Just- stay with me, please?”

“Alright,” he agrees, amiable as ever, and reaches for the remote. “This can be like our vacation, yeah? The Felix and Esme Show. The Fezme Show-,”

“No,” she groans, but wriggles off him to curl up beside him instead, a handful of cranberries rising to her mouth as he flips through the channels.

He settles on an episode of Columbo. Felix hasn’t really seen much in the way of TV, and so reruns mean nothing to him. But it means everything to her. They keep the volume on very low, and he gets up at one point to open the windows more, even as the faint sounds of the parking lot outside drift in- the buzz of the lights, doors opening and closing, the crunch of gravel. 

Esme falls asleep sagging onto him, cranberries in her lap, mouth half open while Felix watches, riveted in the light of the screen, as the detective closes the case.

[fireblaze5555]

Sleeping Over

Smutty mcsmut smuttington smut. This is pretty much just smut. Thank you for listening.

I wrote this pretty quickly this morning in between work and it is lightly proofread so I apologize for any mistakes!

Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900966 

Title: Sleeping Over

Frank woke to sunlight streaming through a window that definitely wasn’t his. It was far too clean and bright. But when a weight shift on his arm and he got the faint smell of vanilla and honeysuckle he remembered, he had crashed at Karen’s last night after finishing up a mission. It hadn’t gone terribly but it hadn’t gone smoothly either. He stopped by with the intention of just checking in, she liked to see that he was okay after his jobs, helping him patch up whatever injuries he may have received. He always tells himself he isn’t going to stay, just assure her that he was fine and go on back to his place. Of course, it almost never goes that way and more often than not these days he finds himself curled around her in the morning.

At some point he is going to have to accept that he basically lives there already and just move the rest of his meager belongings in with him. Karen had already made a point of telling him she would like that, she didn’t pressure him, just put it out there so he could make the decision for himself. As he laid there and continued to soak up her warmth, he began to think that ‘at some point’ was going to be very soon because he couldn’t seem to conjure the feeling of needing to leave. It took him a long time to get here, not feeling incredible guilt for the time he spent with Karen Page. The guilt was still there, like he didn’t deserve her or her love, her compassion or her kindness, but it didn’t drive him away anymore. It wasn’t a sharp pain anymore, more a dull persistent ache in his gut.

“I hope as loud as you are thinking that you are at least thinking about what you are going to feed us.” Karen’s voice was thick with sleep and had the teasing reprimand she reserved for him when she knew he was too much inside his own head.

Frank pressed a kiss to her hair and stretched an arm behind him to support his head, “Yes ma’am,” he didn’t count that as a lie since she already knew he hadn’t been thinking about food. “Though when I checked last night I saw half a jar of mayonnaise and beer in your fridge so I think it might be an order in kind of day.”

“I’m okay with that, it means we don’t have to leave the bed.” She said.

Karen chuckled and rolled to her stomach, her face pressing into the mattress as she gave a luxurious stretch, her back arching prettily. Frank couldn’t help but to let his eyes wander down the length of her, he turned his head and let his eyes linger at the graceful curve of her neck, down over her shoulders where her hair was in disarray, something he loved to see. Karen was always meticulous about her hair, he knew he was one of the very few that got to see it anything less than perfect and, if he were honest, that simple knowledge always gave him a flare of pride. Especially since her hair looked like that more often than not when he spent the night.

Frank continued his perusal, eyes drifting down her arched back before following the enticing curve of her ass where it was now peeking out from the t-shirt that served as her night clothes. He followed the black lacy line of her cheeky underwear, they contrasted exquisitely with her pale skin and suddenly Frank’s mouth went dry and he was achingly hard. He marvelled at that fact an innocent stretch from her turned him on so thoroughly, so fast but really it didn’t take much for Karen page to turn the big bad Punisher into a horny mess.

Before his brain thought better of it, Frank slid his hand under Karen, past her chest and over her taut stomach until his fingers slid over the seam of her through her panties. She had made a questioning noise at first but it turned into a small gasp that made Frank’s blood spike. He slid his hand up just enough to maneuver it past the waist of the lacy garment in his way and had to bite his bottom lip to keep a needy noise in when he repeated the motion again only this time drawing his fingers fully through her folds and pulling a needy whimper from her.

Frank repeated the motion a few times before dragging his fingers up to circle her clit, drawing the most beautiful sounds out of her. His eyes snapped up to her face and he nearly lost his control. She was watching him, those incredible blue eyes fixed on him, her full lips parted as she panted his name and a flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck and, goddamn, he wanted to lick every bit of it off.

His fingers worked expertly over her so it didn’t take long before her hips were grinding down into his hand and she was gripping the pillow, shaking with the need for release. Frank’s cock was straining against his own underwear and the friction it caused was not nearly enough. With his free hand, he slid the boxer briefs down just enough for him to grip his arousal and give a few languid strokes. He couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him, the pressure of his own hand coupled with the incredibly enticing view before him, Karen’s hips grinding in slow circles, her eyes shut tight as she chased her release, made it impossible for him to stay silent.

Karen heard the little noise somehow past her own pleasure and her eyes snapped open before they slowly trailed down his chest to where his hand languidly pumped the length of dick. Her hips jerked and she tugged at her bottle lip with her teeth as she watched him and the sight had him on fire, the blood rushing in his ears so loud he almost missed the beautiful sound she made as her orgasm finally hit her. Her hand flew up to grip his bicep as he worked her through the rolling pleasure, her nails biting into his skin, fanning the flames to the point he felt like he could combust.

When she came down from her high, Karen’s eyes slowly left where he was still gripping himself to meet his eyes. The need he saw there made his lungs seize and if that wasn’t enough to get him moving, the husky way she breathed his name over his shoulder was.

In an instant Frank was on his knees, hooking fingers into the lace of her underwear and jerking them down the glorious length of her legs before throwing them somewhere over his shoulder. He’d find them for her later, he had something much more important to do right now. He felt lightheaded, the sight of her arching below him, just waiting for him to move was almost too much. His cock throbbed with impatience but he forced himself to stop, to appreciate the picture before him. Frank slid a heavy hand from the curve of her ass, up the length of her back before he scooped her silky hair into his palm and moved it over her shoulder. Dragging kisses replaced where the strands had been, little nips at her shoulder before he slowly ground his arousal against her. He repeated the motion a few times before she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Frank, please.”

He could never deny her. So with a growl he canted his hips back enough to align with her entrance and slid into her easily, both letting out little curses and gasps. Frank sat up enough so that he could grip her hips then slide both hands up her back to grip her shoulders. It gave him the leverage he needed to grind into her. God she felt so good, he would never get tired of how perfect she felt around him. He repeated the motion again before letting his hands drift back down to her hips. Karen for her part was pushing back against him, fighting for every bit of friction she could find. Finally he took mercy on both of them. He started slow, holding her hips in place while he slid in and out of her in an easy rhythm but it didn’t take long for him to increase his tempo, slamming into her. It was a frenzied pace and one that he knew would send them both careening over the edge before long but he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

As he suspected, Karen’s voice pitched with more urgency and he felt her starting to tighten around him. He’d say sensation would have brought him to his knees but he was already there. It didn’t take much for Karen to bring Frank Castle to his knees.

Leaning over, Frank put his hands on the bed above her shoulders to help keep her in place while he increased the already punishing pace. It changed the angle, driving him somewhere impossibly deep in her and in an instant he felt her go rigid below him, a scream tearing from her lips that was muffled by the mattress as she pressed her face into it.

Karen cinched around him and if he hadn’t been lightheaded before he most certainly was now. A desperate sound escaped him as he continued to pump into her and all it took was one swivel of her hips once she had recovered to send him into oblivion as well. His hips stuttered and he pressed his forehead to the crook of her neck as he released into her, the pleasure spreading so strongly through him Frank wasn’t sure how he managed to keep his weight off of her. As the waves began to ebb he was pressing kisses and adoring words into the skin of her shoulder, not yet ready or willing to leave her warmth. Karen purred under him, her head now rested on one of her arms while the other reached back to run soothing fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

Finally though, Frank made himself pull back but only just enough to roll off of her and pull her into his side once again.

Karen hummed, resting her head on his shoulder and running an idle hand up and down his chest. She looked up at him sleepily and when she spoke her voice was husky and sated in a way that fed his male pride.

“Do you think GrubHub delivers straight to your bed?”

Frank gave a startled chuckle and looked down at her, “I somehow doubt it ma’am. Besides, I’m not sure it would fit in with our safety plans if the delivery drivers for your favorite restaurants all have keys to your place.”

She shivered at the low timber of his voice but pressed on, “Well, you may be right but that doesn’t change the fact that I am very reluctant to leave this bed and I am still incredibly hungry.”

“Well we can’t have you starving to death so I guess I’ll have to take one for the team and order some food, yeah?” He traced a finger up and down her arm and watched goosebumps rise in its wake. He felt some of the heat returning to his body, he wasn’t ready to go again just yet, god knows he isn’t that young anymore, but he felt like he may have something left in him when burning blue eyes and a sultry smile turned up to him.

“I appreciate your sacrifice but...maybe we can stay in bed, just a little bit longer.” She finished the sentence with her lips pressed against his jaw and he didn’t need any further convincing. He’d buy her whatever the hell she wanted to eat, whenever the hell she wanted it as long she kept her lips on him.

And she did.

It was quite some time before he was able to hold up his end of the bargain but the delivery driver for the Chinese place around the corner was happy to receive the incredible tip, despite the frightening man at the door covered in cuts and bruises and what looked distinctly like hickeys.

[palace-of-wonder]

New Little Mini-Fic! Got a bit bold this time, haha.

Got some inspiration from @yandereaffections. Love your blog!

This is a yandere gender neutral reader x oc, cause I rarely see any yandere self inserts x s/o. Warnings: Sedating, non-descriptive mention of gutting, kidnapping. 

With a shaky exhale, you look around the woods, picnic basket in hand. WIth every step you take, you feel as though your heart slams harder into your ribcage as you search for the one reason why you’re out here instead of staying inside when it’s raining. Sure, it’s not raining that hard now, but soon the sky will be pouring.

Of course, that’s the plan. Because when it rains, that’s when she is out.

You can remember her clearly, seeing her on a rainy day like this. And now you’re well prepared for her now.

After trekking about in the woods, the pattering of drops gradually increasing their intensity, you soon see a figure in the clearing, sitting a few feet from the lake. For a moment, you simply stand behind the trees, transfixed by the creature in front of you.

Her dreadlocks crown her head as she looks up at the sky, the orange mock in peeking from them as they reach out for the droplets. Of course, the more you look the more she appears inhuman, with her antlers curve from her forehead, then curve into themselves slightly, almost like a buck’s. This is also paired with both her drooping ears where more humanlike ones should be, and as her where her knees should be, legs fit for a fallow deer meet almost just below your knees. She truly is a sight to see, and for a moment, you almost lose your nerve. 

No. You refuse to stop, not after this work. With an exhale, you step out into the clearing, acting just as surprised as she did when she looks over, her ears slightly pricking up in surprise.

“Oh! Uh, hello,” she stammers, her lips quirked in a rather forced, nervous smile. She seems to stand up, and for a moment your heart drops.

“Um, sorry for intruding on you, I wasn’t aware of there being anyone else here. I was just about to have a picnic, but it started to rain,” you say, lifting the basket slightly to draw her attention to it. She tilts her head slightly, intrigued. “Oh, would you like something from here?”

“Uh, are you sure?” she asks, though her eyes still trained on the basket. Got her.

You smile a bit, nodding. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing some food. And, maybe some company in this rain would be fun.” You walk over, sitting beside her. She smiles again, though it’s less forced, but still a bit skittish. You place the basket between you two, smiling at her reassuringly. “So, I have sandwiches, fruits, mini bags of chips, honey, and pudding. Also some lemonade and water. ”

She looks back up at the sky as she thinks, droplets dripping down her nose and cheeks. “Mmm, I’d like a fruit with honey. Banana, maybe?” She asks hesitantly, looking back at you. You nod, reaching into the basket. “Lucky for you, I have a bowl with banana slices. I was actually expecting a friend, but they bailed on me. Lucky me, huh.”

She lets out a titter, relaxing slightly. “Certainly. Being stood up while caught in the rain? Fortune seems to be your strong suit.”

You smile again, your heart pounding a bit harder than usual hearing her giggle. You hand her the tupperware holding sliced bananas along with the honey jar, the honey dipper included. As you grab a cup of pudding, grabbing some plasticware, you watch her from the corner of your eye.

She opens both the tupperware and the jar, placing the container of banana slices on her lap. She slips a couple of the fruit in her mouth as she dips the honeycomb-shaped end of the dipper stick into the sweet viscous liquid. Drizzling the golden treat onto the slices, she smiles to herself as she tastes them. You use your spoon to hide your smile, once again thanking the research you gathered. You noticed she had a thing for sweets whenever she would lap up the sweetness of the honeysuckles from bushes or the occasional dessert she swiped from unsuspecting picnic goers.

“Thanks again, these are actually good. I’m Karth by the way,” she says, a bit of honey on her lower lip. You resist the urge to wipe it off as the pink tip of her tongue swipes the liquid bead into her mouth. Now you ignore the urge to chase it with your own.

“Uh...you have any more?” Karth asks sheepishly, rubbing her neck. You pretend that you were minding your business earlier, looking down and seeing that she was completely done with the banana slices. “Ah, I have a peanut butter sandwich if that’s alright with you.” A nod signifies her approval as you exchange the empty container with a sandwich. You then grab a sandwich of your own, this one being a ham and cheese. The two of you eat, looking up at the cloudy sky as the raindrops make small ripples in the lake. It’s quite peaceful, honestly, the world more somber, but with a sense of serenity. You inhale and sigh softly, smelling the rain on the grass and trees.

You look over at Karth again, and she looks pretty drowsy. Of course, she seems to not want to mention it and toughen it out, though it’s obvious since her eyes are pretty droopy and she seems to want to just conk out against the tree. “Uhm, you alright?”

“Mhm,” she hums, scooting herself into the clearing more so the cool droplets could wake her up a bit.

“I could keep watch, y’know. I don’t really have any reception, and I have a blanket I was going to use before the rain,” you offer, pulling it out. “It’s not that thick, but it’s probably large enough for you to wrap around in terms of layers.”

She thinks about it for a few minutes before she agrees, allowing you to wrap the blanket around her. As you sit down, you notice a slight weight leaning on you and resting on your shoulder. As you look down, you see Karth resting her head on you. You chew your lip slightly, cursing mentally as you feel your heart speed up ten times over. You continue to look forward, before you are sure that she is truly asleep, before you carefully scoop her up in a bridal style, ensuring that she’s secure in your arms. After a few minutes, you reach your car. You prop her up carefully against a car to unlock and open the back door. You’re not worried of her waking up, since with the sleeping pills that were crushed and mixed in the honey, she won’t be waking up for a bit.

Gingerly placing her into the backseat, you close her in, then hop in the driver’s seat, heading into your town 45 minutes from the woods. Every now and then, you glance at the rearview mirror, looking at her sleeping form. You can’t stop the smile twitching at your lips. It’s pretty much done now. You have her.

Pulling up to your house, park the car. Turning it off, you exit the vehicle and carefully carry your little doe to your home. Opening the door, you transport her  to the spare room that you made her own, laying Karth on the bed. You remove the damp blanket off of her and grab a towel, drying her off slowly. You then pull the cover over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Your heart skips a beat as she smiles slightly in her sleep. You use zip ties to tie her hands and legs together, using multiple so in case she rips one off, she’d be too exhausted to open the others. 

You then lock the door, closing it and stretching. As you head to your room, you hear thunder from outside. Huh, looks like you got in at the nick of time. You get into your bed, falling asleep as the thunder rolls and the rain pours.

--

When you wake up, you’re met with… a sight.

There she is, Karth. She’s asleep, that’s for sure. 

But she’s in your room. In your bed. With a couple of stretched out zip ties hanging from her arm.

….Well, this is something. You sit up and stumble out of bed, noticing just how disoriented you are. Like, more than average. You head into the bathroom, turning the light on to see your disheveled face. Looking around the counter, you notice your sleeping gummies are closed rather haphazardly. You open them and see that it wasn’t a lot that were missing, probably two or three. You head back into your room and grab your phone, checking the time to see it’s almost 12 pm. Well, that puts one thing in rest, but how did she escape the room?

You step out into the hallway and dash to “her”room, where you see the door with a rather nasty hole in it, splinters decorating the floor. You should’ve been able to hear that last night...except for the fact that it was thundering loudly. Perfect. Stepping inside the room, you see that there were gashes on the wall, and a couple of hoof marks on the doorway and floor. So she kicked her way out. Smart.

Well, if she escaped the room, why is she still here? And why in your room? Entering, you notice Karth waking up, rubbing her eyes. She sits up and sees you, smiling sleepily. “Hey, I guess you’re surprised, huh?”

You slowly nod, not really thinking. “How...how did you resist the sedatives?”

“I was pretty much in and out of it. Really gouged up the walls and all that,” Karth replies, leaning back against the bed. Still very calm considering she just escaped the room her captor had prepped for her.

“Why are you...here then?” you ask, though your mind screams for you to shut up and enjoy this.

“Well, I figured that since you’re oh, so infatuated with me, to the point of kidnapping me without even knowing if I’m secretly hostile and I actually lure humans in in order to gut them senseless,” she trails off, a rather wicked glint in her eyes, “I decided to stay, since I’ve never seen a human who had saw me and didn’t decide to run off or try to shoot me down.”

You smile rather deliriously, nodding. “Oh, I’m glad. Thank you.”

Her smile drops a bit. “However, we must have a deal.” She straightens up, looking you in the eye. “You will have to actually get me to like you. Y’know, romance me, court me, if you will. And if you fail, I will have to dispose of you.”

“What?!” You protest, stepping forward. “But doesn’t that seem a bit unfair? After all, it’s not my intention to hurt you, far from it.” Well, unless she were to push your limits. But that was before you realized you weren’t in control.

“But do you not think that it was unfair of you to trick me into being sedated and kidnapped?” She counters, tilting her head. You look away, knowing the answer. “But if I’m being nice, I suppose you won’t have a set deadline. I will tell you when your time is up.”

You nod, though it still feels grim. That means it can be a month, year, or even tomorrow if she was feeling rather vicious. And you can’t say you blame her.

To woo the predator in prey’s clothing, for an unknown amount of time against you. What fun.

[nancypullen]

Good Stuff

Yesterday I gushed about our gardens, but a gal can't stay outside all day - at some point she has to come inside and clean up. I told you that I wanted to share a couple of products that I'm loving and as it turns out, they're all about cleaning up. I'll jump right in with the product that is hands down my favorite tool for tidying up. This granite spray is DIVINE.

Don't judge my rumpled table runner- I had to chase away a certain rebellious black and white cat. This granite cleaner is Heaven in a bottle. It's from Brandless so although it's not expensive ($4) I do have to order online. I can save money by bundling with other products, or by just ordering these handy refill pods.

It's just fantastic. I've tried high end products and dollar store products on my granite countertops and this is the only cleaner that leaves them looking glossy and new with one wipe. It's a bonus that it smells so good I'd wear it as perfume. It's non-toxic, EPA safer choice certified, and all of that good stuff - but it's mostly just a miracle in a bottle. By the way, not one bit of this blog post is sponsored in any way. I'm just telling you what I like. Moving on...

I love a house that smells good. Not strong smells that smack you in the face when you walk in, just a pleasant, clean smell. That's why I love this stuff.

I pick this up at Target and I'm hooked. I go back and forth between this Peony scent and their Honeysuckle. Both are soft and pleasant. Don't get me wrong, this is not a powerhouse cleanser that will take care of soap scum in a shower - this is a nice every day spray and wipe product. I like using it on window sills, or to wipe down high traffic doors where they get touched a lot. Our back door that opens to the deck is the worst, it gets grabbed by dirty hands and this cleans it right up. I also use this to wipe down the washer and dryer, and just odds and ends like that. Just cleaning the window sills in each room with this product is enough to create a lovely scent throughout the house. There's a wonderful menu of fragrances available, really something for everyone, and they're made with plant-derived ingredients and sold in recyclable packaging. Winner! Again, it's about $3.99 a bottle and because I don't use it for major cleaning jobs that bottle lasts quite a while. Did I mention a time or ten that I like for my house to smell good? I do. I just don't like an overpowering fragrance, and most candles or air fresheners give me a headache. Not these! These are delightful. I find that if I put one on a shelf in the laundry room and another at the other end of the house in a bedroom I can get the soft, fresh scent that I like. Just a hint, nothing overpowering. I grab these at Target and they're about $4 (I'm sensing a pattern) for a package of two.

My last little product is a sponge that my sister endorsed first. It's certainly not new, you're probably already using it - but how did we live so long with gross kitchen sponges before Scrub Daddy came along?

I love these. They get the job done whether you're cleaning up sticky, baked on stuff or just giving flatware or glasses a wash. They hold up so well and never get stinky. I toss mine on the top rack of the dishwasher now and then just to sanitize it. I almost feel guilty when I buy new because they truly don't wear out. Also, who doesn't like a cheerful face at the sink when you're faced with more dirty dishes? There are several varieties - Scrub Mommy has a soft sponge on one side and a scrubber on the other, and she's pink. I can't remember the rest of the family, there are some different shapes and textures, maybe those are the Scrub Cousins, I don't know. They can all be found at (you guessed it) Target and they come in at LESS than $4, they're a bargain at $3.69. Because I'm cheap frugal, I expect to pay about a buck for a scrubber/sponge. I have to admit that these are worth every penny and last far longer than the cheaper scrubbers. That's it, quite possibly one of the most boring blog posts I've written but I'm determined to get back into the habit of posting here. The content may be dry until I get a life. Just kidding, we all know that's not going to happen. I'll try to seek out more interesting topics, though. How do you feel about an essay contrasting and comparing snails and slugs? Maybe some poetry about house finches? Yeah, my cleaning product endorsements don't seem so bad now, do they? I'm off to bed with a cat and a book and, thanks to the above mentioned products, my house smells wonderful. I think it helps me to have sweet dreams. Or maybe it's because my head is full of whimsical thoughts as I drift off... I hope that big bee told all of his friends to visit my garden...I wonder if that crow was laughing at me or with me today? Tune in tomorrow for more riveting content. Until then, stay safe, stay well, and spread some love. XOXO, Nancy

[artificialqueens]

Off Limits, Chapter 2 (Bitney) - Veronica/Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order.) ALSO: Thank you so much to our beta reader slash Australian slang consultant, Ms. @opalescent-cheetah

Chapter Summary: Bianca and Courtney continue to get to know each other: an endeavor that involves quite a bit of teasing.

SLAM!

The jarring sound startled Bianca out of what was pretty sure had been a very pleasant dream, making her whole body jolt upright. Was that their door? Why was anyone even awake at this hour? She pressed a palm against her left eye, where a dull headache seemed to be forming.

She wasn’t sure why. They hadn’t had that much to drink last night--only a few glasses of wine while telling each other some random stories about their families growing up. They seemed a bit scandalized to learn that even though she was a junior like them, she was 23 years old. She was unsurprised to learn that Willam’s parents owned a bar. And equally unsurprised to learn about Courtney’s family house in Brisbane, a solar-powered bungalow with overflowing vegetable gardens.

But who would be up at...Bianca looked at her phone. 6 am. Jesus.

Alaska still burrowed under a mound of covers--that awful duvet, plus a fuzzy, muppet-like electric blue blanket and a rainbow knitted monstrosity that looked like it had been made by a team of emotionally disturbed fairies. She hadn’t moved an inch at the sound. Heavy sleeper, apparently.

Must be nice.

Bianca threw off her covers bitterly to go investigate the noise, perhaps yell at whoever dared to disturb her at this ungodly hour. Despite having been intent on reading said person for filth, the moment she found Courtney curled on the couch in her fleece blanket, blowing softly on a steaming mug, Bianca felt the majority of her annoyance suddenly disappearing. Still, she was determined to set a precedent.

“Bitch, was that you that slammed the fucking door?” she asked, though her voice lacked any of the sharpness she originally intended.

An apologetic smile was shot her way and right through her heart as Courtney shook her head and explained, “No, soz. That was Bill. She’s on her way to the gym.”

“At 6 AM?” Bianca exclaimed in exasperation, “Jesus fuck, does she hate herself? There’s easier ways to go about making yourself miserable, let me tell you.”

The laughter that emanated from Courtney at the statement was enough for any remaining trace of irritation to completely dissipate from Bianca’s body. Part of her marveled at how Courtney always managed to have a smile on her face. It was as though very little could be done to truly phase her.

“I’ll talk to her,” Courtney promised sweetly, “She always heads to the gym around this time but maybe I can convince her to shut the door more quietly, okay?”

There was a natural charm in the smile on Courtney’s lips, one that assured you that if she said something, she meant it. And with that reassurance, Bianca muttered a word of thanks and continued on towards the bathroom.

When she emerged, she found Courtney waiting for her with yet another smile and a steaming mug of coffee.

“The sugar is in-”

“I take it black,” Bianca said, following her back into the livingroom and settling on the sofa.

“Hard core,” Courtney laughed.

They sat side by side, not really talking much but instead just enjoying the morning in each other’s company as some program played on the screen. Bianca was almost tempted to ask what it was but ultimately found she didn’t really care about the answer. She was too content at the moment to interrupt the peace and relative quiet of their living room.

Once Courtney finished her coffee, she started to slide a bit closer to Bianca, inching over a little at a time and finally claiming her shoulder as a makeshift pillow. Bianca tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered as she wrapped an arm around Courtney’s sleepy form. How nice it felt to have a warm, soft body pressed up against her. How her hair smelled like honeysuckle.

Fuck.

Bianca stayed still as long as she could stand it...even drifted off herself a few times. But eventually, once her arm fell asleep and her stomach began to rumble, she regretfully roused Courtney awake, smiling slightly as she yawned and rubbed her eyes.

“Sorry about that,” Courtney said.

“It’s alright. I was just starting to get hungry and I didn’t want to dump you on the floor.”

“Aww, that’s sweet as!” Courtney laughed, jumping to her feet and offering Bianca a hand, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever.

“Sweet as what?”

“Uhh,” Courtney pursed her lips, trying to figure out how to explain. “Just…”

“That’s so Aussie?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Courtney laughed.

***

Once in the kitchen, Courtney began to pull an assortment of items from the fridge...bananas, apples, dates, spinach, a carrot, frozen blueberries, a can of coconut milk, an avocado. She could see Bianca eying the combination with great suspicion.

“What the fuck are you planning to make?” Bianca asked, touching her lightly on the arm.

A hot flush crept into her cheeks as she said, “Smoothie. Want some?”

“Pass, dollface,” Bianca said, grimacing.

“Suit yourself,” Courtney shot back in sing-songy voice, pulling the blender out of the cabinet and beginning to toss in the ingredients, “But what are you gonna eat?”

Bianca’s brow arched and a devilish smirk spread across her lips. She let her eyes roam slowly and meaningfully over Courtney’s body before settling back on her face with an expression that seemed to dare Courtney to say something. All Courtney could think about was that comment from the day before, about how she’d never been eaten out by someone who knows what they’re doing. A fair statement--and it certainly piqued Courtney’s curiosity. But she wasn’t about to give Bianca the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Uh-uh,” Courtney rebuffed as she struggled to contain a nervous laugh. Her cheeks were certainly blazing under Bianca’s hungry gaze but she was determined to stand her ground. “Not on the menu.”

Far from being discouraged, Bianca just gave her a little wink as she pushed herself away from the counter’s ledge and replied in mock disappointment, “Shame. Eggs it is then.”

She sauntered back towards the fridge but as she opened it, Courtney decided to keep the joke going, adding, “Well, it's not on the menu today...but…” she trailed off, chuckling a little, but when she saw the glint in Bianca’s eye, she breathed in sharply, pressing her lips together.

“Yeah?” Bianca leaned in close again, trapping her against the counter. “Gonna be running a special sometime? Might just take you up on that, you know.”

Courtney had no response; there was precious little going through her head other than how close Bianca was to her. How close their lips were to one another’s.

Part of her was fighting against the temptation to lean in, ever so slightly, to see what Bianca would do. Deep down she knew Bianca was only trying to get a rise out of her (and it was working) and she longed to call her bluff. To say something smart and sassy just to impress her, even a little. But here she was, mouth agape and unable to vocalize any sort of coherent thought.

Taking pity on her shell-shocked roommate, Bianca immediately backed off and cackled, “Oh, my god! Relax! I’m just joking, Court.”

She was still chuckling even as she retreated back to the fridge but for Courtney it felt like her presence had never really left. She could feel the heat of Bianca’s body as it had nearly touched hers, skin tingling with the memory of feeling her so close.

“Sorry...I’m kind of a shameless flirt,” Bianca said, pulling out a carton of eggs. “It’s one of my best and worst qualities.”

“Me too,” Courtney said, letting out a relieved exhale. So, there. Bianca was in fact just playing around. That’s what she’d assumed, and it was good to be right. Right?

“Yeah, so...it doesn’t really mean anything. But I’m sure you know that-”

“Of course.”

“But you should tell me if I go too far,” Bianca said gently, brown eyes soft and warm.

“Same,” Courtney replied, hoping that her cheeks were less red than they felt. That Bianca believed the truth: that this was just fun and games, nothing more.

After another dimpled grin, Courtney was finally able to pull herself fully together with a strong mental note to never let herself become that overwhelmed by Bianca again.

If Bianca wanted to play...well, she’d play right along, too.

***

Twenty minutes later, with a fresh batch of coffee and breakfast nearly ready, Alaska had finally stumbled out of bed to join Bianca and Courtney in the kitchen. As the eggs sizzled away in the frying pan, Bianca had set Courtney to work on buttering some toast for the both of them (it had been a slight challenge given their lack of toaster, but Bianca managed to use the oven broiler).  

Alaska’s bedhead made quite a sight as she sleepily wandered into the kitchen, still looking only half awake.

Courtney was the first to greet their disheveled roommate with a warm smile, inquiring, “Good morning! Are you feeling any better?”

After Alaska’s polite nod, Courtney’s quickly followed up by offering up some of her breakfast smoothie, chock full of nutrients to help shoo away any remaining trace of illness she might have had.

“No one wants your gross smoothie!” Bianca exclaimed, adding, “Beware, Alaska. I saw her put dates in that thing.”

“Shut up!” Courtney laughed out, a hand on her hip. “Dates make it sweet.”

Rolling her own eyes, Bianca was quick to fire back, “You know what else would make it sweet? Sugar.”

Cocking her head to the side, Courtney cooed out, “Yes, cupcake?”

Their banter was interrupted when Alaska piped in to ask about the coffee she’d smelled. Gesturing to the French press, Bianca encouraged her to help herself.

Bianca poked at the eggs, satisfied. Before she served them up, she looked at Alaska and asked if she wanted any.

“No, thanks,” she answered politely.

Bianca nodded, dividing them in between the two waiting plates and making a mental note to find out what Alaska liked to eat. She knew it was probably silly and mom-like, but she would have felt a lot better if she’d had something to offer Alaska in the way of comfort food. She resisted the urge to pressure her to eat something, silencing her own mother’s voice and sitting down with the plates.

Courtney took her plate, offering some of the toast from the large stack in exchange. And licking the butter knife clean with a saucy glint in her eye.

Shaking her head, Bianca chuckled and said, “That’s disgusting.”

Courtney simply shrugged and giggled along with her, saying, “I like to lick things.”

Bianca pressed her lips together. That one was too easy, and she was determined not to take the bait.

“Where’s Willam?” Alaska wondered aloud, giving Bianca a welcome change of topics. “Still asleep?”

Before Bianca could even make a crack about Alaska sleeping through the racket that was Willam leaving at 6 AM this morning, Courtney chimed in with a casual, upbeat, “No, she’s at the gym! Gotta keep it tight as for her clients.”

That one particular word immediately captured the attention of both Bianca and Alaska and almost instantly their heads snapped back to Courtney for more information. Alaska’s eyes were wide as saucers and Bianca knew that her own expression must be similar.

Courtney seemed to instantly regret the choice of words, sputtering, “Uh...I mean...”

“...Clients?” Bianca found herself asking with nothing but suspicion and judgment dripping from the word.

“Well…”

“Courtney. Are we sharing an apartment with a hooker?!” Bianca asked, pointing a fork at her for emphasis.

“No!” Courtney cried out empathically, “No, not a hooker. She’s like…”

Alaska seemed to be leaning off the edge of her seat as she inquired rather eagerly, “Yeah?”

“I’m not sure I should say,” Courtney reasoned, half muttering to herself, “I mean, it’s not like a secret, but I just don’t feel like it’s my place to-“

“Well too late, bitch.” Bianca cut in as she leaned in even more, arguing, “You brought it up. Now you have to tell us.”

Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling for a moment, Courtney huffed out, “It’s not a big deal! She just like...video chats with guys and they buy her stuff.”

Bianca relaxed a bit, gears turning in her head as she clarified, “She’s a cam girl?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Bianca felt like she was deflating. The self-righteous anger churning in her chest subsided and she shrugged. As long as no “clients” would be brought back to the apartment, Bianca didn’t really care what Willam did. Although, hopefully she wouldn’t have to hear anything. Ew.

***

Courtney loved Cielo Plaza, the open-air shopping center with adorable Spanish-style buildings covered in murals and bougainvillea. The courtyard was full of beautiful plants and tiled fountains, almost like another world. When they first arrived, she saw Bianca looking around with a bit of a puzzled expression. She grinned, knowing that this wasn’t what most people expected when you said “mall.”

“Not what you pictured?” Courtney asked, bumping her hip gently.

“No, I guess not,” Bianca said, following her and Willam, who was striding confidently towards her favorite clothing stores.

Courtney’s eyes lit up as she caught sight of See’s Candies, tugging on Willam’s arm to get her to slow down. She could never resist See’s and their deeply generous sample policy.

“Bill, come on, let’s go get samples!”

Despite Willam’s heels dragging (and firmly ignoring the set of rolling eyes), Courtney was determined to get her a sample. Even if she didn’t eat it, Courtney would be sure it wouldn’t go to waste. She was almost licking her lips in anticipation of what she might get when she heard Alaska piping up with a soft sigh in her voice, “My ex-girlfriend was obsessed with that place. She never shut up about it.”

At once Courtney’s feet stilled and she rounded to look back at Alaska.

And she wasn’t the only one; Willam’s head rose after hearing the unexpected information and even Bianca had shifted her gaze from a distant boutique in order to study the girl next to her. At first, it seemed like Alaska had something more to add on but upon finding everyone’s attention solely focused on her, she immediately shut herself up, a light flush coloring her cheeks.

She looked a tad...panicky. As if she weren’t sure what to expect from sharing this information.

But Courtney knew better, a grin spreading across her face, gushing happily, “Don’t worry, Bianca’s gay too! And Willam’s bi!”

She certainly would have said more had she not chanced to catch sight of Bianca shooting her a look of mild irritation.

Oh.

Perhaps that wasn’t something that needed to be shared so loudly...or publicly, now that she thought about it. Her stomach began to drop as her cheeks darkened to mirror the same shade that was present on Alaska’s.

Shaking her head, Willam grumbled, “Foot in Mouth Disease strikes again...Anything else you want to share with the other mallgoers, Court? Maybe inform them of my ass waxing schedule?”

“You wanna call my grandma, come out for me?” Bianca questioned as nothing but snark penetrated her voice. Her eyes rolled as she placed a hand on her hip and added in, “I don’t think she knows yet.”

Falling over her words as her eyes darted from one woman to the next, Courtney struggled to explain herself, “I thought…I mean, yesterday you said that you-I just thought it would be better if she knew...shit...”

She thought her stomach couldn’t be twisted any tighter until she finally saw a crack in their hardass façade. Bianca was the first to break completely, slipping an arm around Courtney’s shoulders.

“She already knew, dollface. She’s seen us at the meetings,” Bianca assured her.

A little wink might’ve been thrown her way but nothing could distract her from the utter relief she felt washing over her. Though Bianca was at least attempting to keep composure, it was hard to miss Willam’s trademark laugh echoing in the background. Even Alaska seemed to be more than a bit amused by the situation.

Almost involuntarily, Courtney found herself crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as she attempted to will away the furious blush on her cheeks. Even with the slight mortification she felt, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning further into the warmth of the body pressed against her. But still, she was determined to save some face and let out a sarcastic muttering of, “Ha ha.”

“Well, I’d invite you,” Bianca purred next to her ear, “but I’m not sure you’re ready for the initiation ceremony…”

The arm draped across her shoulders slipped even lower until Bianca’s hand was nestled firmly into the small of her back. It was all Courtney could do to suppress a shiver as Bianca’s nails grazed across the strip of bare skin above her shorts. Having enough of the teasing, at least for now, Courtney turned on her heel and strode off in the direction of the candy shop for a self-indulgent treat.

Bianca followed closely behind, smirk ever-present on her face, even as Willam called after her, “And your grandma totally knows, by the way.”

Barely suppressing a laugh, she turned back around and flipped off her roommate before inquiring one final time, “You guys coming in?”

She left the door hanging open as a welcome invitation but Alaska was still reluctant to follow the pair into the shop. She mumbled a polite refusal, one prompting Willam to stay outside and join her, and with a carefree shrug, Bianca replied airily, “Suit yourself,” and let the door close shut behind her.

***

Once inside, she saw Courtney immediately, standing in line and fawning over a large glass display case filled with chocolates and truffles of every kind.

“Okay,” Courtney said, down to business the second Bianca approached. “We’re each gonna get a sample, and then I think we should each buy two or three more...and then we can try a whole bunch. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a lot of fucking chocolate at…” Bianca glanced at her phone, “eleven-thirty in the morning.”

“Almost lunchtime!” Courtney insisted. “Besides...life is short.”

“Fine, fine.” Bianca sighed. “Pick whatever you want, dollface. It’s on me.”

Courtney squealed happily, turning back to the case, nose practically pressed against the glass. Bianca chuckled to herself. Courtney took her time selecting her favorites, almost all dark, proudly handing Bianca one of the samples while the clerk rang them up.

“That’s my absolute favorite. Dark chocolate raspberry cream,” she said.

Bianca took the candy, taking a small bite. It was pretty damn good. She looked up at Courtney’s big eyes, which momentarily looked like a toddler watching their mommy leave for work, and couldn’t help laughing.

“You want the other half, baby?” she asked indulgently.

Feigning uncertainty, Courtney inquired, “You don’t want it?” but Bianca was having none of that and swiftly held out the half-eaten treat towards her roommate.

“Take it,” she insisted.

A flash of a happy smile stretched across Courtney’s face before her lips wrapped around the candy and Bianca’s fingers. Bianca couldn’t help gasping softly as Courtney’s eyes darted up to hers, lips curled into as much of a smirk as could be managed. She gave a quick lick around Bianca’s fingers as she snatched away the rest of the candy.

A burst of laughter erupted from Bianca’s chest as she immediately reached over to wipe off the remaining saliva across Courtney’s cheek. “Fucking whore,” she accused her roommate.

“I told you I’m a licker,” she commented as she turned to take her own sample from the counter.

“Gonna share?” Bianca asked.

Courtney looked back to her in consideration, cocked her head to the side, then calmly popped the entire candy into her mouth as she replied with a simple, “Nope.”

“Fucking greedy whore.”

Bianca’s comment earned a snorting laugh from her roommate as she nearly doubled over to keep herself from spitting out the candy. As she tried to keep control of her giggling, she offered with her mouth still full, “Can give you a taste, though.”

“Right,” Bianca countered with a chuckle of her own, “Nothing as sexy as masticated food.”

With that Courtney flashed her a wide toothy smile complete with chocolate truffle spread across her teeth. It made for quite a sight, Bianca had to admit.

After paying for the rest of the candy, Bianca handed the small box to Courtney, watching with amusement as she dug in immediately.

“I think this one is cafe au lait,” she said, taking a large bite. “Yup. Amazing. Wanna taste?” She offered Bianca the rest, what amounted to about one-tenth of the truffle.

“So generous,” Bianca said, taking the tiny piece as Courtney moved onto the next, and the next.

“You’re gonna be sick,” she said, but Courtney shrugged.

“I have low blood sugar.”

“And I suppose we’re not taking any back for Will and Alaska?”

“Well…” Courtney paused thoughtfully, fingers hovering over the last two pieces. “They could have come in.”

Bianca laughed. Her behavior with the chocolates was the first sign of selfishness that she’d seen Courtney display. And it was, of course, fucking adorable.

In spite of eating what seemed to be a third of her weight in candy, the first thing Courtney questioned upon meeting up with the other women outside were their plans for lunch, suggesting a bakery at the other end of the mall.

“You’re still hungry? You just ate 3 pounds of chocolate,” Bianca chuckled.

A trace of a pout appeared on Courtney’s lips as she prepared to argue with Bianca, but her response was cut short by Willam waving them off with a curt, “You go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

Courtney cocked her head to the side, concerned, and questioned her in a motherly tone, “Are you okay? Are you sick again? Do you want to go home?”

She might have probed even further but Willam was quick to step in with a defensive, “She’s fine.” Then added in a further, rather rushed, explanation of, “She’s just telling me about a recurring fantasy she’s having...of strangling you in your sleep.”

Snorting out a loud laugh, Bianca found herself piling on, “Who hasn’t had that one!”

“I know, very relatable,” Willam replied with a smirk firmly set on her lips as Courtney blew a raspberry in her direction.

“Fuck you all, cunts!” she announced before grabbing Bianca’s wrist and dragging her off in a fit of righteous indignation.

Her pace soon slowed down, but only after Bianca’s chuckling had finally subsided. Strange though, Bianca noticed, Courtney still hadn’t let go of her hand. In fact, if anything, she had adjusted her positioning in order to be more comfortable. The only thing missing was their fingers laced.

But as she pondered whether or not read anything into it, a shop front caught her eye further up the walkway. She immediately diverted her course towards the store in question with Courtney following closely. She didn’t seem to consider letting go of Bianca’s hand, simply gripping her tighter.

***

“What do you need in here?” Courtney asked, heart skipping a few beats at Bianca pulled her inside the lingerie store.

“Saw something for you, hold on.”

Curious, Courtney allowed her to guide the way, feeling a twinge of excitement growing in her chest. Quickly, it fell flat as Bianca pointed up rather proudly at a mannequin displaying a hot pink babydoll nightie trimmed in matching lace.

“I thought the pink suited you,” Bianca defended herself, though the hidden laughter in her voice did little to convince Courtney of her sincerity.

A brow shot up at the statement and Courtney cast a quick glance towards the rest of the mannequins, finding the perfect one on the very end of the display--a sheer, bright red, lace teddy.

Pointing it out, she commented cheekily, “Actually, this is more my style.”

“Mmm,” Bianca mused to herself as she pretended to study the garment. She took in every little detail inch by inch, then turned back to state in all seriousness, “I don’t think you have the tits to fill that out. Sorry.”

“Cunt!” Courtney laughed out as she leaned into her roommate for support.

But Bianca’s fun was far from over.

Tugging Courtney further inside, she assured her, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find something to cover those tiny, little A-cups...somewhere.”

“I’m a B cup!” Courtney cried indignantly, adding, “Most of the time.”

Bianca chuckled, guiding her towards a table full of elaborately embroidered bralettes.

For almost 15 minutes, the pair darted from one section to the next, pointing out the skimpiest or sexiest bits of lingerie that they could find (and of course suggesting that the other person model them). Courtney was having so much fun that she didn’t even mind the salesgirls eyeing them suspiciously. Finally, Courtney found her coup de grace in the form of some very revealing, forest-green panties. The entire piece consisted solely of strategically placed straps and sheer lace, doing nothing in terms of coverage: more the idea of panties than actual underwear.

Courtney held them out triumphantly and silently dared Bianca to find something better than that, confident that she had won. But the smirk on her face was wiped off when Bianca tossed them back into the pile, pulling out a nearly identical pair.

“These are my size,” she taunted as Courtney’s jaw went slightly slack.

And then, she moved to another small pile next to the panties. Quickly finding the right piece, she sauntered up to the front counter with her intended purchases, but not before mentioning with an enviable air of casualness, “Matching bra. Really completes the whole look.”

At this, Courtney’s jaw did drop but Bianca’s back was thankfully already to her. Rushing up to the front counter, Courtney’s eyes remained glued to the matching bra and panty set. Her mind raced, some not so modest thoughts of what the clothing might look like on Bianca’s body flashing through--the rich color would be gorgeous against her skin, that was clear. And the skimpy straps would barely contain her curves…

Her thoughts were cut short when Bianca spun around, bag dangling from her hand, and said, “So...lunch?”

“Oh, um...yeah.” Courtney gulped, leading her out of the store and back down the walkway towards the bakery. Once her hammering heart slowed down a bit, she cast a glance towards Bianca, linking arms with her and saying, “I’m glad you found something you liked in there.”

Bianca grinned back at her, dimples deep in her cheeks.

“Yeah, thanks. You’ve got real classy taste.”

Courtney giggled, beginning to accept and even enjoy the permanent blush that seemed to be on her cheeks anytime she was around Bianca.

“Anytime,” Courtney said. “And you know, if you need advice about what to wear in more—”

She was shaken out of her slight daze by the sound of Willam’s voice shouting, “Hey! What the fuck?”

Happily, Courtney waved back to her and quickly finished, “—in more formal settings, like to the office, I’d be happy to help.”

“What makes you think I won’t wear these to the office?”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize your internship was in a brothel.”

“I mean, it is the oldest profession,” Bianca cackled.

As they approached Willam and Alaska, Courtney ignored the irritated tapping of Willam’s foot, the hand on her hip, tossing her a sweet kiss and focusing her attention on Alaska.

“Sorry about that, back there,” Alaska said, and Courtney smiled, reaching out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s fine. I hope you’re okay,” she said. Though she wanted to ask more questions, really just to make sure she was alright, Courtney thought it’d be best to wait. She was confident that Alaska would come to her when she felt comfortable. In fact, her mood seemed to have lightened quite a bit since their brief break from one another. She’d bet anything that Willam reached out to Alaska and helped her lift some of the weight off her chest. Though some people might see Willam as selfish or uncaring, Courtney knew the truth. That when it counted, she was sensitive and even loving, loyal to a fault. That there was nobody better to talk to about a broken heart.

Alaska nodded, then asked, “Did you at least have some fun?”

“Yeah,” she replied, smile growing and cheeks beginning to heat up again. She spared a glance at Bianca and said, “B made an...interesting purchase.”

Immediately, a sneaky, devilish little smirk appeared on Bianca’s face and raising a finger to her lips, she seemed to say, ‘Our secret.’

A thrill passed through Courtney’s body at that, a feeling in her abdomen not unlike riding a rollercoaster. She wondered if the others would let things go, or demand to be let in on the joke, and found herself hoping for the former, to allow her this one little secret with Bianca, something just for them.

“I’m sure I don’t even want to know,” Willam said, and Alaska giggled in agreement. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

***

“Are you sure this table meets all of your requirements, your highness?” Bianca scoffed. They’d already passed by at least five others that didn’t meet Willam’s exacting criteria.

Sipping her iced tea, Willam gave a passive shrug of her shoulders and replied back, “I know what I like.”

Bianca shared a long-suffering look with Alaska as she finally took a seat and let herself relax for a moment. Across the table, Courtney let out a contented sigh and mused out loud as she stirred her lemonade, “Don’t days like this just make you happy to be alive?”

Rolling her eyes at the sappy statement, Bianca muttered, “Alright, Miss America.”

Courtney stuck out her tongue at the comment and remarked proudly, “I did actually win a pageant, once.”

Willam groaned at the statement and moved to cut the story short with a tired, “We know, we know, Miss Tater Tot-”

“No, Miss Tiny Tot,” Courtney squeaked out through a burst of giggles that echoed through the courtyard. Turning back to her new roommates, she added in,  “I was 5. I won a car.”

Feeling her face twisting in disbelief, Bianca asked incredulously, “What the fuck is a 5-year-old supposed to do with a car?”

Slightly distracted, Alaska murmured wistfully, “I would love to meet Miss Tater Tot. She sounds delicious.”

“And crispy,” Bianca agreed, giving a slight nod of her head.

Tossing in a carefree wave of her hand, Willam mentioned, “Ehh, I’m off carbs.”

Despite being the butt of the joke yet again, Courtney played it off, resting her delicate chin in her hands, a dreamy smile stretching across her lips.

But before she could say anything, Willam cut her off with a lamenting, “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“I know that fucking look,” she accused, “You’re about to get all...sisterhood of the traveling pants on us, aren’t you?”

“No!” Courtney cried out defensively, “I was just gonna say-”

“Something lame and cheesy about best friends forever?” Willam guessed as her eyes narrowed in on Courtney with a silent dare to try and lie and say she was wrong.

Crossing her arms, Courtney shot back, “-that I’m glad we’re all getting to know each other...and I have a really good feeling about this year.” Turning her attention strictly back to Willam, she asked in a lilting, mock-submissive tone, “Was that acceptable, boss?”

“....Barely. You’re on thin ice,” Willam said, stealing Courtney’s drink for a quick sip.

An adorable, good-natured pout began to form on Courtney’s face, but Alaska came to her defense.

“I think it was great, Courtney,” she assured with a sincere smile, raising her drink, “Here’s to the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.”

“More like the Golden Girls,” Bianca remarked dryly.

A squeal quickly emanated from beside her, much to her shock. She had yet to see Alaska get this excited about anything; it seemed that reference struck a chord.

Willam, on the other hand, was less than impressed. “Speak for yourself, you old cunt.”

Bianca gave her the finger as Alaska wriggled excitedly in her seat.

“Omigod,” Alaska exclaimed with an exuberant grin, “I love that show!”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Courtney asked, “What show?”

“Golden Girls!”

Shaking her head, Courtney admitted, “Never heard of it.”

Alaska’s jaw went slack as she stared at Courtney from across the table. Bianca could see the wheels beginning to turn in her head so it came as no surprise when she decided, “Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”

Doubtful of Alaska’s plans, Bianca asked, “Is it even streaming anywhere?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alaska stated with a firm resolution in her voice, “I have all 7 seasons on DVD.”

Bianca could practically see her entire evening being swallowed up right in front of her but she was out of ideas to delay it. Only Willam had one last card to play. With an almost convincing air of disappointment, she pointed out, “We don’t have a DVD player…”

Without missing a beat, Alaska rebutted, “We’re at a mall. It’s happening. Also we need to buy cheesecake.”

The only one who seemed excited about this prospect was Courtney, the little traitor. She easily became swept up in Alaska’s excitement and allowed her mood to soar with the prospect of a movie night. With her hands clasped to her chest in glee, she suggested, “Can we all get in our jammies and make popcorn and have a real slumber party?”

Alaska’s eyes lit up with a joyful spark and pointing her finger at Courtney, she immediately agreed.

Accepting her defeat gracefully, all Bianca could do was mutter, “Dear God,” along with a mental banging of her head on the table.

Sharing a similar sentiment, Willam leaned in towards her and stage-whispered, “It’s not too late to kill them both, you know.”

Bianca instantly cracked up at the statement, and suddenly a girl’s night in watching Golden Girls didn’t seem too awful. If nothing else, she could trade snide comments with Willam and use some of the huge arsenal of hilarious anti-Florida jokes she’d built up over the years.

And then, of course, there was Courtney and her blissed-out little face, as happy as a lark—almost infectiously so.

Maybe...this could be fun after all.

[lindoig7]

Sunday/Wednesday, 9-12 August

Sunday

We were in the van almost all day.  Neither of us felt all that well when we first got up. Heather’s vertigo was bothering her, probably from the rocking and rolling in the car yesterday; and I was quite woozy too.  I suspect I had accidentally taken a double dose of my blood pressure tablets.  I am cutting them in halves at present and taking them on alternate days, but maybe I didn’t cut one of them and I felt quite dizzy and unstable until late morning.

At least, feeling like this gave me the perfect opportunity to tick off one of the things I said I wanted to do during lockdown. I lay on the bed and read for 2 solid hours.  I have been reading much more than usual, mainly late at night, but it is many years since I sat and read for pleasure during the day.  It was great and I will try to do it again soon.

I wrote a bit for my blog and posted it with some photos in the afternoon – first time (ever?) that this of any of my other blogs have been right up to date.

We then went for a slightly longer than normal walk, just in local area across the creek and then drove to Drouin for another fish and chips dinner.  Each time we have gone there, we have ordered a little less than last time, but even so, we had delicious fish sandwiches for lunch next day and chips with our home-made pie for dinner at night.

Monday

We spent a somewhat exhausting day at Phillip Island – but it was really great. We set off for the south coast confident of our interpretation of the Stage 3 rules for non-Melbourne residents.  As it turned out, we perhaps needed to know our rights because quite close to The Gurdies, a Police roadblock was set up and every vehicle was stopped for questioning.  We had to say where we were coming from, where we were going, what we intended to do there and our reason for it all.  Our answers prompted the cop who was questioning us to remind us that we were more than 5 km from home and didn’t we know the rules?  I said that we had been ‘trapped’ in Warragul since before the lockdown and that the limit didn’t apply to us.  He immediately apologised and said he had just come from a roadblock in the city and had forgotten that we were in a Stage 3 area rather than Stage 4.  He was very nice and wished us a happy day as we drove away.

We were quite pleased that it had happened because it confirmed our understanding of the latest rules.  We didn’t have masks on when we were driving, but we put them on before I wound down the window.  A good job too because I heard that some people were fined for winding down their windows to speak to the cops before putting their masks on.  On the other hand, when we were in the Cape Wollomai Surf Club carpark later in the day, a cop car came through and spoke to numerous people who were watching the surf without masks.  As far as we could see, nobody was fined, but they were all required to put masks on.

It is amazing how many people are NOT wearing masks.  They all wear them in the shops, but anywhere else, at least a quarter of them don’t, maybe even more.  Almost all of them are young people who think they are bulletproof and don’t care who they might be infecting – basically the vulnerable (old farts like us).  So many of them don’t wear masks, and there is rarely any social distancing within groups of 4 or 5.

We did a long (10 km) walk at Cape Wollomai. It was great and quite varied.  It was hard work walking on the beach, but that was only for the first and last kilometre.  Up on the cliffs, there were wide areas of low scrub, virtually all low shiny-leafed plants, often smothered in little white snails, but also frequently covered in divine-smelling honeysuckle.  It pervaded quite large areas and we first noticed it while we were still hundreds of metres away on the beach.  There were a couple of other wonderfully aromatic plants there too and we just loved the ‘perfumed garden’.  In the wooded areas (all low stringy trees, rather than the giants we have seen so much in the past few weeks) with quite a few birds. There were several lookouts and regular seats along the way for the weary and at one, we saw a Peregrine Falcon.  It was quite close, riding a thermal up the side of the cliff about 30 metres away and it circled us a few times before drifting away.  We saw it several times in the distance, very high, but I will post some pics I took when it was nearer to us.  There were lots of Ravens, quite a few Pipits and six Yellow-tailed Black-cockatoos that kept us company for a while - but were hard to photograph through the branches, particularly because it was all in low light.

An important birding milestone for this trip was a Singing Honeyeater we saw early in our walk.  That marked 100 unique species we had seen since leaving home.  The Peregrine Falcon and a few Gannets late in the walk increased our trip tally to the current 102.

Walking back the last kilometre on the beach, we saw thousands (krillions?) of tiny dead creatures along the highest line that the waves had reached.  We imagined that they were krill (as they had been in similar circumstances in the Kurils a few years ago), but a close examination showed that they were tiny transparent cuttlefish: tens of thousands of them, all about half a centimetre long.

We were pretty zonked after the walk, especially from trudging along the loose sand on the beach, so we ate our mid-afternoon lunch in the car and then made for home.  I wanted to check out another wetland not far from Cape Wollomai so we detoured there and Heather sat in the car while I reconnoitred the area.  I only walked about 2 km, but went as far as the very small wetland.  It was no great shakes but there were other walks there too, including one across the island to a couple of Westernport Bay lookouts that may be worth visiting if we decide to revisit the area in the next few weeks.  Then it was home via Wonthaggi and a somewhat circuitous, but very scenic, route to the west of the roads we have used on our other excursions.

Tuesday

We stayed in and around the van all day.  We did some hand washing (clothes – our hands are almost worn away from constant washing) and cooking.  I reorganised the back of the car and we did some tidying and cleaning in the van. We sorted and edited photos, updated our bird lists, read, and wrote more for my blog and I persuaded my wonderful hairdresser to cut my hair.  We did that outside the van to the amusement of numerous passersby, with me wrapped up in plastic sheeting because we left the hairdressing sheet at home.  I was in desperate need of a cut and feel so much lighter now the shearer has completed her work.

Wednesday

Another rest day in the van.  It was supposed to be raining overnight and all day, but it is now early afternoon and the rain is yet to arrive.  We are still a bit worse for wear after our Cape Wollomai walk so decided to stay in and recuperate for another day.  Heather has cooked and we have both made a few phone calls and generally pottered around. I finished another book last night so I think I might spend an hour of two reading on the bed again this arvo. It would be great to be on the road again, but we are certainly making the most of our forced residency (do we need to change our electoral roll registration?) and quite enjoying it.

[diamondgore]

Do you think you could do Bobby/Hank with #8??? I will forever be in your debt!

I know we’re best friends and all, but could you maybe be my date to my cousin’s wedding to prove to my judgmental relatives that I can find love and that I won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

note: i may have gone just a little bit overboard dslgkj 

Bobby’s riding the tail of an anxiety attack. He felt his skin become warm, a sensation he hadn’t felt since he was fifteen. Not that the attacks of his neurosises didn’t come often, but they never came with hot flashes that made his cheeks prickly and red. He could almost swear it was an allergic reaction. The fact that he was wearing a three piece suit wasn’t helping.

He wants to it peel his skin off, as he pulled off his tie. That sounded much more pleasant than watching his friend Marv get married.

To his parents, Marv was the daughter they never had. She was the daughter that they wanted Bobby to be, but he had never fulfilled it. For that reason, Bobby’s father was walking her down the aisle, he’d always been a second father to Marv so it only seemed fair as her own father had passed. And G-d, was Bobby jealous.

He’d knew from the start that he had been a disappointment to his parents, in more ways than one. He was a mutant, a gay and an accountant. Well, the last one wasn’t too bad, but they certainly wished he had gotten a job that would be more fulfilling! Whatever the hell that meant!

“Robert? You’ve been in there for a long time.” Hank stated. It wasn’t directed at Bobby directly, as much as it was Hank musing out loud. Bobby never spent that long in the bathroom with the door open.

“Bobby. Please call me Bobby in front of the guests.” Bobby said with a strained voice as he stared at his bright red face in the mirror. He looked awful, not fit enough to give the wedding toast at the reception, even though he’d written one of the best pieces of stand up comedy in the twenty-first century in his opinion. However, having the breakdown thirty minutes prior to the ceremony was a lot better than having one during. That was at least something he could look forward too.

“Of course.” Hank said, and then walked towards the bathroom. Hank was fully dressed in a red crushed velvet suit. He was wearing gold rings on his furry blue fingers, and he might as well have stolen the show from the bride. If it wasn’t the fact that Hank was so garishly dressed that would steal it, it would be the fact that he was an eight-hundred pound furry blue man. He never really seemed to struggle with how he looked, and fully accepted it.

Looking at Hank’s reflection in the bathroom mirror as he stood outside the door, Bobby briefly wondered why he had asked Hank to be his date to be his date, rather than literally anyone else who didn’t look so blue. He could’ve asked, Warren or Jean or Scott, but the complication of the fact that they were dead probably set him off that course.

Who was Bobby kidding—even with all those options, he would’ve still chosen Hank, time and time over. While most of his friend group seemed to become more mature and jaded, Hank had kept that jovial holly from his youth. He was the only one Bobby could openly banter with, without getting his feelings hurt. Was the reason Bobby having an anxiety attack the wedding or the fact that he had purposely chosen Hank as his date?

“You look ill.” Hank said, leaning against the door. Bobby swore he could hear it creek underneath his weight.

“I’m fine.” Bobby breathed out. His throat was so dry, he’d never really felt this dehydrated before, and this was including the time he was only a head of ice in the middle of the desert. “I just need—“ Bobby clutched his chest and groaned. This was worse than having a heart attack. He turned around and closed his eyes, leaning against the sink.

Hank took that as an excuse to walk in and check on Bobby. He pressed his giant blue hands against Bobby’s bright red neck and face.

“Hot flashes? That’s a first.” Hank stated quietly. “You’re warm.”

“Yeah, I really hope I’m not going through menopause.” Bobby stated, trying to lighten the mood. However the joke’s delivery was terrible through his labored breath.

Hank played along. “I feel like that would be in the realm of the improbable, but I suppose it could happen.” Hank hummed, continuing to exam Bobby’s face, and then taking his pulse with his fingers. “Would be the first case I’ve ever seen in a man. Perhaps we’d make medical history?”

Bobby liked that Hank didn’t force him to talk about his feelings, or whatever bullshit breathing exercises most people made him do.

“Aren’t I already a medical anomaly?” Bobby asked, a little more relaxed as he felt Hank’s hands slowly compress his shoulders.

“Yes, usually people with no brain don’t live till adulthood, but you seem to have beat the record.” Hank said, serious and deadpan. His delivery made Bobby break out into laughter.

Bobby was now not shaking with anxiety and panic, but with laughter. Hank still had his hands on both of his shoulders, but Hank was laughing too. His chortling was deep and breathy. Once Bobby had recomposed himself enough he smacked Hank with the back of his hand in the stomach.

“That was mean.” He faux frowned, scrunching up his face in an over-exaggerated way.

“You’ve said meaner things to me.”

“But they’re usually true, furball.” Bobby said, as Hank let go of him. He felt a lot better now that Hank had sort of walked him through another panic attack. It was the first time he had done it in a very long time.

The knot in his chest loosened, and he no longer felt like he was wearing a noose. He was sort of thankful that he chose Hank to be his date now.

“I needed that.” Bobby said and then played with his thumbs, avoiding eye contact with Hank. It was far more comfortable to avoid it when possible.

“You’re like a spring,” Hank said, “You get so worked up it’s like you supercoil and compress yourself so tightly you just explode. I’ve been expecting it happen for a while now. I’m glad I caught you. Instead of letting you go through it on your own.”

Bobby slouched forward and pressed his head fully into Hank’s chest, and frowned honestly this time. “G-d, this wedding is going to suck.”

Hank smelled sweet, like honeysuckle. It was the first time in a long time where he didn’t smell like a dog.

“All weddings are terrible.” Hank said. “Do you think Marv sprung for those little sausage rolls?”

“Like the ones we had at Scott and Jean’s wedding?” Bobby tilted his head to the side. Yes, it was awful that both Hank and Bobby were ditched by their dates back then, but the catering was excellent. Warren had paid for it, and Bobby and Hank drowned their sorrows in terribly made cosmopolitans and sausage rolls. This wasn’t the first time Hank and Bobby had become each other’s wedding dates. “Those were good.”

“They were delicious.” Hank nodded, he paused for a moment in thought. “If the idea of this wedding threw you into a panic attack, perhaps we should just leave? I’m sure Marv will understand if I come down with a sudden unknown illness.” Hank suggested.

“She’s pretty understanding. She has a normal family, and I’m sure I could just send my speech to my dad.”

“But I was still promised a free meal, that was part of the deal of being dragged all the way to long island. So how are we going to work around that?”

Bobby couldn’t think of a better plan. “I think the TGI Friday’s on Main has the endless appetizers deal, that should fill your endless black hole of a stomach.”

[kondo-hijikata]

Pairings: Established Kondo/Hijikata Rating: M Summary: It’s simple. Peddle medicine and find purpose. But after Hijikata is caught in a downpour that leads him right into Kondo’s arms, he realizes things are a little more complicated than he’d like to believe. [AO3]

<< Chapter 3

.*After the Rain*. Chapter 4

Tendrils of honeysuckle twisted fragrant blooms over the outer stone wall, bringing embellishment and vitality to a modest silver nameplate that bore the words Sato Residence. The habitant butterflies and hummingbirds were unfazed when Kondo hurried by their earthly paradise of flora, still impassively flitting about even when he swept beneath the bough that had grown over the main entryway.

That wasn’t to say a proper welcome wasn’t in order, however.

“Kat-chan!”

Kondo unclasped his hat and pulled it free with a shake of the head, his chin immediately lifting to the woman who stood up on the porch before him. At her side were a young girl and boy, each flailing and cheering while jumping about in delight. “Uncle came to visit! Uncle, uncle!”

“Shh!” she hissed, swatting at the space around them. “Not so loud!”

“Nao-chan, Gen-chan! Hello!” Kondo offered a wave to help placate their excitement and then turned back to Nobu, his voice falling as serious as his expression. “I’m real sorry for showing up like this without notice, but I rushed over the moment I got your letter.”

“Oh, Kat-chan, please. Do you not see these kids right now? You’re always welcome here.” She guided the children a few steps back to give him room. “Come on up!”

With a nod, Kondo placed his hat and the cloth-covered box he’d carried on the wooden floorboards, before pivoting to toe off his sandals. “Sorry for the trouble,” he said out of polite habit (and over little voices now chanting, “Big feet! Big feet!”), while bounding up to join them on the porch. Within seconds, tiny arms were tossed around his legs to deliver enthusiastic hugs. Kondo’s shoulders dipped forward so he could place one hand atop each child’s head and he greeted them with warmth. “Hey, you guys.” However, worry was written across his features when he looked to Nobu again. “How is he?”

“Besides his usual stubborn self?” The words alone were harsh but they’d been delivered with the same fondness Nobu always used when talking of her brother. She crossed her arms and one hip leisurely swung out to the side. “Doing better, thankfully. He’s still feverish but at least he’s finally in bed.”

Kondo exhaled with relief, his lashes falling as he nodded once. In the background, he was vaguely aware of teeny toes stepping on his, their owners continuing to yap about the extraordinary size of his shoes.

“Ugh, the strings I had to pull to get him to rest, Kat-chan…” Blowing out a breath, Nobu’s brow creased and she tilted her head. “You should’ve seen him this morning. Flushed! Sweating! Exhausted and grumpy, and completely unreasonable. But he was so insistent on getting dressed, no matter what.”

Connecting the dots, Kondo felt color rush to his own cheeks then and his eyes parted a little wider. “Oh no…”

“I felt so bad that it came to sending a courier and worrying you like this. But with Hiko-chan out giving lessons like the good husband he is…” Nobu closed one eye and raised her shoulders a touch. “Honestly, that letter was the only way I could convince Toshi to get himself back in bed this morning. Even then, he was up and about soon after, pacing.” A beat. “He was really looking forward to seeing you today.”

Raising his palm to his cheek, Kondo huffed as his features softened and he peered off to the side. Soon after, his focus crept back up to her with a shy apology. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, Nobu-san.”

“What are you sorry for? You know best of all that obstinacy and flair for drama are traits around these parts!”

In response to that bit of truth, Kondo could do nothing except stifle the laugh which demanded escape from his tongue. So, the pot was calling the kettle black again… His hand fell and he absently pulled at the hem of his hakamashita to keep himself in line; the last thing he needed was another Hijikata on his case for something minor, especially when Nobu could be just as irascible as Toshi—if the mood was right. “Hardly,” he finally replied, not daring to agree with her assessment, no matter how accurate. “Anyway, I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“He’ll be fine. And speaking of the other dramatics in this family.” Nobu’s gaze appropriately fell to her children then. “All right, you two, that’s it! Let’s give him some space.” The girl of seven, Nao, pouted before releasing Kondo as her mother insisted but her younger brother, Gennosuke, made no such move; he clung even tighter, then lifted his chin. “Is Souji-niichan coming?”

“Souji, huh,” Kondo exhaled. “Afraid not. He stayed home today since Uncle Toshi caught a cold.”

“Aww…”

Kondo grinned and ruffled Gennosuke’s hair. “Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing him soon.” It was a promise he’d have to make good on, for as much as this boy wanted to see Souji, Souji had wanted to accompany Kondo on his visit here; the deadpan look and manner with which his brow had twitched upon hearing the remainder of his day would be spent with Gen-san were almost comical. Alas, though, Kondo had known war tales and tea would pale in comparison to the potential thrill of antagonizing Hijikata when he was already contentious and moody. His decision to come alone had been made in the best interests of all.

In all honestly, he’d felt awful about breaking the plans which occupied Souji’s excitement for the last few days, and even sought his permission to do so; unimpressed green eyes had fallen half-lidded with a sigh. “Hijikata-san is ruining my life as usual, I see.” Despite the warranted complaint, Souji had turned on his feet afterward and wandered in the direction of the sitting room, all as Kondo’s palms met in appreciation before taking off, himself.

He’d make the blunder up soon enough. For now…

Upon hearing Nao call his name, Gennosuke let go of the leg he’d wrapped himself around, instead favoring to chase his sister across the porch and through open shoji. Kondo used this opportunity of newly granted freedom to retrieve the elegant box he’d set down earlier. Picking it up, he offered it to Nobu once she finished gently scolding the children again for their noisiness.

“Nobu-san, it’s not much, but…”

“Kat-chan!” she admonished. “You never have to bring anything.”

“I know, I know. But I ran into a fruit vendor and couldn’t pass this up though, look.” Reaching for the tied ends of fabric, Kondo loosened them slightly and fragrance drifted up from inside.

“Ara?! Peaches?!” Nobu exclaimed. “They smell so good!” She inhaled again and a large smile graced her lips. “Oh, Kat-chan, Toshi’s gonna be so happy, you don’t even know. Between you visiting and bringing these? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s cured in a split second.”

Kondo smiled widely at that, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “That would be ideal, wouldn’t it?”

“Only one way to find out! C’mon,” she said with a wink and toss of her head, “let’s go see how bad of a mood he’s in.”

~

Companionable silence descended as Nobu led Kondo down a long stretch of porch and then around the corner, leaving them both standing at the threshold of a closed door.

“Toshi,” Nobu called softly while placing her palm against the entrance. When no reply came she tried again. However, upon being greeted with quiet for a second time, she carefully slid the shoji aside and peered in with Kondo leaning over her to do the same.

“Ah…” he whispered, lingering a moment more before righting himself. Nobu looked up at him with questioning eyes and Kondo nodded once to offer his agreement. And just like that, the door was closed as quietly as it had been opened.

“You know, Kat-chan…” When Kondo offered to carry the box for her as they began walking again, Nobu only hugged it closer. “I’ve known my brother for almost twenty years at this point and it’s still hard to believe that that…innocent face he makes while sleeping belongs to him.”

“Mm?” Kondo chuckled.

“Almost makes me believe in those ridiculous stories about shapeshifters…those scary ones that really do terrify the hell out of you when you’re younger but you never want to admit it.”

“Are you admitting it now?”

“I guess I am!”

Suppressing what would have been a hearty, resounding laugh, Kondo managed to control the volume of his amusement and then agreed. “You have a point, though. Angry Toshi is certainly scary Toshi.” A beat. “And it’s always a good idea to stay on his good side…unless you’re brave.” Upon arriving back at the front of the house, he cast a glance toward the main gate and his lower eyelids lifted just a touch. “Souji is brave.”

“Oh, that kid is a master of getting under my brother’s skin for sure. But make no mistake about it!” Nobu stamped one foot to drive her point home. “Toshi cares deeply for him. I know, if just from seeing how he interacts with my own.”

“Heh, I know it, too!” Kondo crossed his arms with a grin pulling far into his cheeks. “Those two may be like oil and water, but in some cases, oil and water can actually work together, you know. I can’t imagine my life without either. Everything just feels…” Affection swelled in his chest and perhaps had him speaking a bit too openly. “…so complete.”

“That’s good,” came the matter-of-fact voice at his side. “Because I can’t imagine Toshi’s life without you in it, either.”

With a blink, the contented expression fell from Kondo’s face and when his attention turned back to Nobu, he found her studying him with an inkling of pensiveness. “Oh…um—”

“Ne.” She cocked her head toward the kitchen. “You comin’ in?”

“Ah, Nobu-san, I don’t wanna put you out or anything. I just came to make sure—”

“Here, then. Since you’ve been insisting on carrying them.” Nobu thrust the peaches into Kondo’s arms. “Now you’re useful. Follow me.”

“I—” Kondo pursed his lips when he received a very familiar piercing gaze over her shoulder and the sight of it had him immediately relenting. “Mm, right. Yes, on my way.”

Tiny crimson baubles dangling from Nobu’s hair pin danced with a laugh just as animated. “That’s more like it! My last name may be Sato but never doubt I’m a Hijikata through and through!”

“Believe me.” Kondo stepped into sandals (small and uncomfortable, but they would do) waiting on the finished stone floor of the kitchen and set the box on a counter. “I’m smart enough to never dream of doing that.” His gaze drifted around the space and he watched while Nobu approached the pot that had been set over a small flame. The air smelled of comfort—of burning wood and appetizing rice porridge.

“I want to talk with you about some things, but I need to take care a few odds and ends in here first.” She picked up a hand towel to protect herself from the heat and then slid the cover off just enough to look inside. A billow of steam rose from within and the lid was immediately replaced. “Am I right to assume you’re gonna fight me if I tell you to go relax in the sitting room?”

“Who could possibly just sit around when there’s porridge to garnish and other things around here to do?”

Nobu huffed out of her nose. “You’re a good man, Kat-chan.” She opened a nearby cabinet and procured a jar. “Impossibly humble, but certainly good.”

“So, those scallions over there…which knife can I use?”

“Taku.” However, Nobu was grinning softly as she nodded toward a drawer. “Any one you want.”

“Got it.” With that, Kondo plucked the light green stalks from the vegetable basket, brought them to a free area of countertop, and began dicing. Across the way, Nobu removed handfuls of pickled plums from the jar and began extracting the pits.

“You know,” she started, while nimble fingers worked at their task with quickness and efficiency. “I’ve known you for a pretty long time too, but I don’t know if I ever thanked you. Have I?”

“Thanked me?” Kondo asked, his tone gentle and rising with curiosity. “For what?”

“Toshi’s my brother, but…well, I suppose it sounds a little silly since we’re so close in age, but I also think of him as my first son. After our parents died, someone had to step up and I guess it was just in my instinct to be the one who would.”

“It’s not silly at all. That explains why Toshi is so strong.” Chop, chop, chop. “Because Nobu-san is.”

“Cht…please.” Her voice fell, but Kondo could hear the smile she tried to conceal. “Anyway, he was our family’s little prince and I just wanted him to have a good life, especially after all that happened. And I still do.” Kondo finished his task then and peered over at Nobu; she stood still, her digits paused in mid-action of pitting with her chin raised and eyes focused on the wall before her. “It’s tough, though, the balance of having my own kids and everything.” Her shoulders shrugged and she went back to her work.

“I can only imagine…”

“That’s why we tried sending Toshi for that apprenticeship. Everyone here was so adamant on turning him into a successful merchant.” Nobu cocked her head. “But we all know how that turned out.” A beat. “…Bowl’s over there if you wanna put those scallions in something.”

“Well, I’m not following…didn’t it turn out for the best?” Kondo asked, while doing as he was told. “I mean, sure, the textile business didn’t work out but now he’s so good at selling your family’s medicine, so…” He drifted off when Nobu quietly chuckled, and then joined her with a small laugh of his own. “What?”

“That’s the point I’m getting to, Kat-chan. You’re always so encouraging, always have something good to say. Can Toshi do no wrong in your eyes?” She looked up to meet his gaze.

“Uh…I mean, no one is perfect.” He set his mouth in a line. “I’m certainly not, so how could I expect that of someone else?”

The corners of Nobu’s mouth twitched further with fondness. “If you want my opinion, I don’t think the reason why he’s so good at medicine peddling is because of his apprentice work. Maybe he learned some skills there that helped, but…” She paused. “I think it’s because you drive him to do his best.”

Kondo finally turned all the way to face her. “…Me?”

“Toshi was never exactly going down the wrong path, but I still worried about him,” Nobu spoke while tossing the readied plums on a dish and gathering discarded portions in her palm. “He wasn’t happy with the idea of just owning a shop or even inheriting our land. And I agree. I think he’s made for something different.” She discarded the refuse in a bag, then found Kondo’s eyes. “Something more.”

He licked his lips and glanced at the floor, as guilt began to pang within his stomach. What Nobu was saying sounded positive, but Kondo wondered if there was an ulterior motive to this conversation that wasn’t so promising in the end; after all, he’d been the one to tell Hijikata it was all right to have not finished the apprenticeship, that it’d been okay to not want to spend his life on a farm.

Kondo hadn’t said any of it lightly or with the intent of frivolous enablement; the words had been meant to both comfort and appeal to Hijikata’s best interests—but perhaps his best interests hadn’t aligned with the vision this family had for their youngest. And if that had caused a wedge between them…

“Kat-chan…” The kindness in Nobu’s voice brought Kondo back to her. “What I’m saying is, I wasn’t sure how to set him on the path to finding happiness. But I think you can. Or, that you already have.” She closed her eyes and with a huff, shook her head. “My older brother would go crazy if he heard us talking now because I know for damn sure he doesn’t agree. But, this world is changing. And I think we should all be able to chase what we dream of most. Like…what makes us excited to get up in the morning, instead of just living out of obligation.”

A choppy breath left Kondo’s lips then and his chin fell in a strong nod. “I agree.” His hands met his waist before a second guess made him wonder if it was too direct a stance; he therefore settled on crossing his arms before him instead. “I agree with that so much. Especially with my situation.”

“It’s what I’m doing too, after all.” Nobu grinned. “I have my family. That’s really what I wanted more than anything. And I want each of them to lead the best life possible, but it’s hard to keep tabs on them all, especially with…” She patted her midsection.

Kondo stared at her in confusion—and then it clicked. “…Oh.” His spine went a little straighter. “Oh, wow! That’s…that’s great news! Congratulations!”

“But when your family’s growing, everything’s so busy all the time. I can’t always be there for Toshi.” Nobu put out the flame beneath the porridge and once the bubbling background noise died out, she turned back to Kondo. “So, thank you for being the one who is.”

Absentmindedly itching at his jaw and then massaging the side of his neck, Kondo’s gaze fell down and off to the side. “Um…it’s…” He found himself incapable of stopping his own shy grin then. “It’s mutually beneficial. If you think I’ve done him any good at all, well…you should hear about all he’s done for me. It’s incomparable. I mean, if it weren’t for Toshi, then I—” His words trailed off when he noticed the softness falling from Nobu’s expression. “Sorry, I’m…talking a lot, aren’t I?”

A huff. “Oh, no.” With a swift turn to the counter, she braced the heel of palms against it and pushed her lips out. “Not at all.” Nobu’s tone dropped. “But maybe I have.”

Bewildered, Kondo caught onto the conflicted expression that was ascertainable even from seeing just the side of her face. His mouth opened but he stopped himself before speaking again, as the clear shift in demeanor indicated something profound had happened right under his nose without him even noticing.

“...Nobu-san,” Kondo ventured gently, taking a step toward her.

“Kat-chan, look. This might be overstepping. And maybe it makes me a terrible sister who can’t mind her own business. But.” She drummed her fingertips twice before pushing away from the edge, and when their eyes met, concern was clear and present in hers. “Has Toshi…” Nobu shook her head once with a wince before finally giving in. “Has he talked to you about this long trip he’s planning to take?”

Kondo blinked.

And though he couldn’t say he’d been surprised by her question, his heart seemed to grow a mind of its own as it began pounding hard against its ribbed enclosure. Then, from that central place in his chest, an ache swelled and burned—permeated right from the core to paralyze him.

Or at least that’s how it felt, for in that moment, it seemed to Kondo that he’d forgotten how to speak.

Kondo exhaled with relief, his lashes falling as he nodded once. In the background, he was vaguely aware of teeny toes stepping on his, their owners continuing to yap about the extraordinary size of his shoes.

“Ugh, the strings I had to pull to get him to rest, Kat-chan…” Blowing out a breath, Nobu’s brow creased and she tilted her head. “You should’ve seen him this morning. Flushed! Sweating! Exhausted and grumpy, and completely unreasonable. But he was so insistent on getting dressed, no matter what.”

Connecting the dots, Kondo felt color rush to his own cheeks then and his eyes parted a little wider. “Oh no…”

“I felt so bad that it came to sending a courier and worrying you like this. But with Hiko-chan out giving lessons like the good husband he is…” Nobu closed one eye and raised her shoulders a touch. “Honestly, that letter was the only way I could convince Toshi to get himself back in bed this morning. Even then, he was up and about soon after, pacing.” A beat. “He was really looking forward to seeing you today.”

Raising his palm to his cheek, Kondo huffed as his features softened and he peered off to the side. Soon after, his focus crept back up to her with a shy apology. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, Nobu-san.”

“What are you sorry for? You know best of all that obstinacy and flair for drama are traits around these parts!”

In response to that bit of truth, Kondo could do nothing except stifle the laugh which demanded escape from his tongue. So, the pot was calling the kettle black again… His hand fell and he absently pulled at the hem of his hakamashita to keep himself in line; the last thing he needed was another Hijikata on his case for something minor, especially when Nobu could be just as irascible as Toshi—if the mood was right. “Hardly,” he finally replied, not daring to agree with her assessment, no matter how accurate. “Anyway, I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“He’ll be fine. And speaking of the other dramatics in this family.” Nobu’s gaze appropriately fell to her children then. “All right, you two, that’s it! Let’s give him some space.” The girl of seven, Nao, pouted before releasing Kondo as her mother insisted but her younger brother, Gennosuke, made no such move; he clung even tighter, then lifted his chin. “Is Souji-niichan coming?”

“Souji, huh,” Kondo exhaled. “Afraid not. He stayed home today since Uncle Toshi caught a cold.”

“Aww…”

Kondo grinned and ruffled Gennosuke’s hair. “Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing him soon.” It was a promise he’d have to make good on, for as much as this boy wanted to see Souji, Souji had wanted to accompany Kondo on his visit here; the deadpan look and manner with which his brow had twitched upon hearing the remainder of his day would be spent with Gen-san were almost comical. Alas, though, Kondo had known war tales and tea would pale in comparison to the potential thrill of antagonizing Hijikata when he was already contentious and moody. His decision to come alone had been made in the best interests of all.

In all honestly, he’d felt awful about breaking the plans which occupied Souji’s excitement for the last few days, and even sought his permission to do so; unimpressed green eyes had fallen half-lidded with a sigh. “Hijikata-san is ruining my life as usual, I see.” Despite the warranted complaint, Souji had turned on his feet afterward and wandered in the direction of the sitting room, all as Kondo’s palms met in appreciation before taking off, himself.

He’d make the blunder up soon enough. For now…

Upon hearing Nao call his name, Gennosuke let go of the leg he’d wrapped himself around, instead favoring to chase his sister across the porch and through open shoji. Kondo used this opportunity of newly granted freedom to retrieve the elegant box he’d set down earlier. Picking it up, he offered it to Nobu once she finished gently scolding the children again for their noisiness.

“Nobu-san, it’s not much, but…”

“Kat-chan!” she admonished. “You never have to bring anything.”

“I know, I know. But I ran into a fruit vendor and couldn’t pass this up though, look.” Reaching for the tied ends of fabric, Kondo loosened them slightly and fragrance drifted up from inside.

“Ara?! Peaches?!” Nobu exclaimed. “They smell so good!” She inhaled again and a large smile graced her lips. “Oh, Kat-chan, Toshi’s gonna be so happy, you don’t even know. Between you visiting and bringing these? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s cured in a split second.”

Kondo smiled widely at that, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “That would be ideal, wouldn’t it?”

“Only one way to find out! C’mon,” she said with a wink and toss of her head, “let’s go see how bad of a mood he’s in.”

~

Companionable silence descended as Nobu led Kondo down a long stretch of porch and then around the corner, leaving them both standing at the threshold of a closed door.

“Toshi,” Nobu called softly while placing her palm against the entrance. When no reply came she tried again. However, upon being greeted with quiet for a second time, she carefully slid the shoji aside and peered in with Kondo leaning over her to do the same.

“Ah…” he whispered, lingering a moment more before righting himself. Nobu looked up at him with questioning eyes and Kondo nodded once to offer his agreement. And just like that, the door was closed as quietly as it had been opened.

“You know, Kat-chan…” When Kondo offered to carry the box for her as they began walking again, Nobu only hugged it closer. “I’ve known my brother for almost twenty years at this point and it’s still hard to believe that that…innocent face he makes while sleeping belongs to him.”

“Mm?” Kondo chuckled.

“Almost makes me believe in those ridiculous stories about shapeshifters…those scary ones that really do terrify the hell out of you when you’re younger but you never want to admit it.”

“Are you admitting it now?”

“I guess I am!”

Suppressing what would have been a hearty, resounding laugh, Kondo managed to control the volume of his amusement and then agreed. “You have a point, though. Angry Toshi is certainly scary Toshi.” A beat. “And it’s always a good idea to stay on his good side…unless you’re brave.” Upon arriving back at the front of the house, he cast a glance toward the main gate and his lower eyelids lifted just a touch. “Souji is brave.”

“Oh, that kid is a master of getting under my brother’s skin for sure. But make no mistake about it!” Nobu stamped one foot to drive her point home. “Toshi cares deeply for him. I know, if just from seeing how he interacts with my own.”

“Heh, I know it, too!” Kondo crossed his arms with a grin pulling far into his cheeks. “Those two may be like oil and water, but in some cases, oil and water can actually work together, you know. I can’t imagine my life without either. Everything just feels…” Affection swelled in his chest and perhaps had him speaking a bit too openly. “…so complete.”

“That’s good,” came the matter-of-fact voice at his side. “Because I can’t imagine Toshi’s life without you in it, either.”

With a blink, the contented expression fell from Kondo’s face and when his attention turned back to Nobu, he found her studying him with an inkling of pensiveness. “Oh…um—”

“Ne.” She cocked her head toward the kitchen. “You comin’ in?”

“Ah, Nobu-san, I don’t wanna put you out or anything. I just came to make sure—”

“Here, then. Since you’ve been insisting on carrying them.” Nobu thrust the peaches into Kondo’s arms. “Now you’re useful. Follow me.”

“I—” Kondo pursed his lips when he received a very familiar piercing gaze over her shoulder and the sight of it had him immediately relenting. “Mm, right. Yes, on my way.”

Tiny crimson baubles dangling from Nobu’s hair pin danced with a laugh just as animated. “That’s more like it! My last name may be Sato but never doubt I’m a Hijikata through and through!”

“Believe me.” Kondo stepped into sandals (small and uncomfortable, but they would do) waiting on the finished stone floor of the kitchen and set the box on a counter. “I’m smart enough to never dream of doing that.” His gaze drifted around the space and he watched while Nobu approached the pot that had been set over a small flame. The air smelled of comfort—of burning wood and appetizing rice porridge.

“I want to talk with you about some things, but I need to take care a few odds and ends in here first.” She picked up a hand towel to protect herself from the heat and then slid the cover off just enough to look inside. A billow of steam rose from within and the lid was immediately replaced. “Am I right to assume you’re gonna fight me if I tell you to go relax in the sitting room?”

“Who could possibly just sit around when there’s porridge to garnish and other things around here to do?”

Nobu huffed out of her nose. “You’re a good man, Kat-chan.” She opened a nearby cabinet and procured a jar. “Impossibly humble, but certainly good.”

“So, those scallions over there…which knife can I use?”

“Taku.” However, Nobu was grinning softly as she nodded toward a drawer. “Any one you want.”

“Got it.” With that, Kondo plucked the light green stalks from the vegetable basket, brought them to a free area of countertop, and began dicing. Across the way, Nobu removed handfuls of pickled plums from the jar and began extracting the pits.

“You know,” she started, while nimble fingers worked at their task with quickness and efficiency. “I’ve known you for a pretty long time too, but I don’t know if I ever thanked you. Have I?”

“Thanked me?” Kondo asked, his tone gentle and rising with curiosity. “For what?”

“Toshi’s my brother, but…well, I suppose it sounds a little silly since we’re so close in age, but I also think of him as my first son. After our parents died, someone had to step up and I guess it was just in my instinct to be the one who would.”

“It’s not silly at all. That explains why Toshi is so strong.” Chop, chop, chop. “Because Nobu-san is.”

“Cht…please.” Her voice fell, but Kondo could hear the smile she tried to conceal. “Anyway, he was our family’s little prince and I just wanted him to have a good life, especially after all that happened. And I still do.” Kondo finished his task then and peered over at Nobu; she stood still, her digits paused in mid-action of pitting with her chin raised and eyes focused on the wall before her. “It’s tough, though, the balance of having my own kids and everything.” Her shoulders shrugged and she went back to her work.

“I can only imagine…”

“That’s why we tried sending Toshi for that apprenticeship. Everyone here was so adamant on turning him into a successful merchant.” Nobu cocked her head. “But we all know how that turned out.” A beat. “…Bowl’s over there if you wanna put those scallions in something.”

“Well, I’m not following…didn’t it turn out for the best?” Kondo asked, while doing as he was told. “I mean, sure, the textile business didn’t work out but now he’s so good at selling your family’s medicine, so…” He drifted off when Nobu quietly chuckled, and then joined her with a small laugh of his own. “What?”

“That’s the point I’m getting to, Kat-chan. You’re always so encouraging, always have something good to say. Can Toshi do no wrong in your eyes?” She looked up to meet his gaze.

“Uh…I mean, no one is perfect.” He set his mouth in a line. “I’m certainly not, so how could I expect that of someone else?”

The corners of Nobu’s mouth twitched further with fondness. “If you want my opinion, I don’t think the reason why he’s so good at medicine peddling is because of his apprentice work. Maybe he learned some skills there that helped, but…” She paused. “I think it’s because you drive him to do his best.”

Kondo finally turned all the way to face her. “…Me?”

“Toshi was never exactly going down the wrong path, but I still worried about him,” Nobu spoke while tossing the readied plums on a dish and gathering discarded portions in her palm. “He wasn’t happy with the idea of just owning a shop or even inheriting our land. And I agree. I think he’s made for something different.” She discarded the refuse in a bag, then found Kondo’s eyes. “Something more.”

He licked his lips and glanced at the floor, as guilt began to pang within his stomach. What Nobu was saying sounded positive, but Kondo wondered if there was an ulterior motive to this conversation that wasn’t so promising in the end; after all, he’d been the one to tell Hijikata it was all right to have not finished the apprenticeship, that it’d been okay to not want to spend his life on a farm.

Kondo hadn’t said any of it lightly or with the intent of frivolous enablement; the words had been meant to both comfort and appeal to Hijikata’s best interests—but perhaps his best interests hadn’t aligned with the vision this family had for their youngest. And if that had caused a wedge between them…

“Kat-chan…” The kindness in Nobu’s voice brought Kondo back to her. “What I’m saying is, I wasn’t sure how to set him on the path to finding happiness. But I think you can. Or, that you already have.” She closed her eyes and with a huff, shook her head. “My older brother would go crazy if he heard us talking now because I know for damn sure he doesn’t agree. But, this world is changing. And I think we should all be able to chase what we dream of most. Like…what makes us excited to get up in the morning, instead of just living out of obligation.”

A choppy breath left Kondo’s lips then and his chin fell in a strong nod. “I agree.” His hands met his waist before a second guess made him wonder if it was too direct a stance; he therefore settled on crossing his arms before him instead. “I agree with that so much. Especially with my situation.”

“It’s what I’m doing too, after all.” Nobu grinned. “I have my family. That’s really what I wanted more than anything. And I want each of them to lead the best life possible, but it’s hard to keep tabs on them all, especially with…” She patted her midsection.

Kondo stared at her in confusion—and then it clicked. “…Oh.” His spine went a little straighter. “Oh, wow! That’s…that’s great news! Congratulations!”

“But when your family’s growing, everything’s so busy all the time. I can’t always be there for Toshi.” Nobu put out the flame beneath the porridge and once the bubbling background noise died out, she turned back to Kondo. “So, thank you for being the one who is.”

Absentmindedly itching at his jaw and then massaging the side of his neck, Kondo’s gaze fell down and off to the side. “Um…it’s…” He found himself incapable of stopping his own shy grin then. “It’s mutually beneficial. If you think I’ve done him any good at all, well…you should hear about all he’s done for me. It’s incomparable. I mean, if it weren’t for Toshi, then I—” His words trailed off when he noticed the softness falling from Nobu’s expression. “Sorry, I’m…talking a lot, aren’t I?”

A huff. “Oh, no.” With a swift turn to the counter, she braced the heel of palms against it and pushed her lips out. “Not at all.” Nobu’s tone dropped. “But maybe I have.”

Bewildered, Kondo caught onto the conflicted expression that was ascertainable even from seeing just the side of her face. His mouth opened but he stopped himself before speaking again, as the clear shift in demeanor indicated something profound had happened right under his nose without him even noticing.

“...Nobu-san,” Kondo ventured gently, taking a step toward her.

“Kat-chan, look. This might be overstepping. And maybe it makes me a terrible sister who can’t mind her own business. But.” She drummed her fingertips twice before pushing away from the edge, and when their eyes met, concern was clear and present in hers. “Has Toshi…” Nobu shook her head once with a wince before finally giving in. “Has he talked to you about this long trip he’s planning to take?”

Kondo blinked.

And though he couldn’t say he’d been surprised by her question, his heart seemed to grow a mind of its own as it began pounding hard against its ribbed enclosure. Then, from that central place in his chest, an ache swelled and burned—permeated right from the core to paralyze him.

Or at least that’s how it felt, for in that moment, it seemed to Kondo that he’d forgotten how to speak.

[mrneighbourlove]

Kindled Passion: Ch 4. Healing and Destruction

For the next two weeks, Kahli had slowly gained a reputation around the plantations. Fellow workers grew to admire his maturity, and drawn by his mysterious charisma. The man was strange to first look upon, natural fear of the red and black that covered his skin, but those that got to know him adjusted to the Waku.

When his fire abilities came up, Kahli was adamant he was a Waku, simply a self trained magician.

Zizi, for the first time ever, had butted heads with Klinge. The Zemlja tribe was as patient as could be, but Klinge had managed to annoy her to the limit. When the general hovered over Kahli while he worked, Zizi said nothing. When he followed Kahli to the break area, Zizi gave him a look. When he insisted upon the man not using his fire magic around the plants, Zizi groaned loudly and tried to convey it actually helped burn weeds, but her words fell on deaf ears. Finally, the last straw was when Klinge ordered the Hasai to stay behind while she went to the docks to help load the crates of tea leaves. The Zemlja scowled loudly, called Klinge a nigolavna, yelled he was more bullheaded than a metal dragon, and stomped her foot, saying she needed Kahli's help and he had given no one any reason not the trust him thus far. Needless to say, the two exchanged words.

That was three days ago, and Zizi was still mad about the situation. Now, she was in the green house, trying to give life back to a young redwood that had bark rot.

Kahli entered the house, sneaking up on due to her mood. "You seem upset. Would you like to talk?"

"That boneheaded nigolavna general that my sister insists on keeping around is on my last nerve." Zizi grumbled to Kahli, usually never in a foul mood. "He's like a looming cloud of darkness blocking out sunlight."

"Indeed. I like that you care Zizi, but please, do not exert your emotional state over me." He rubbed her back for support, applying heat to make her feel good.

The warmth from his hand actually felt nice. Having to bend over to attend plants all day usually made her back and legs sore. Sometimes her arms were achy from carrying buckets. It came with the job, but as much as she loved it, Zizi was no brute. The Zemlja was tiny, not as strong as her elder sisters, but she tried. Instantly, the tension in her body started to melt away.

"... we had an argument over you going to the docks with me." Zizi said quietly to Kahli. "Klinge told me you had to stay here when I needed your help loading the crates onto one of the export ships. I lost my temper."

"Really? You string him up in vines? Hard to imagine you channeling your anger." Two hands now that he saw she was enjoying it. Massaging out her kinks Kahli started to relax.

"Heh, I wish." Zizi was smart enough to know she could not defeat Klinge. "I wanted to, believe me. I wanted to give him to Ve'nusa as a chew toy for a bit, but I know my limits. Besides, he probably would have given Ve'nusa a bellyache anyway." She then asked, "Can you use some of that heat on my neck? It's a bit sore."

Kahli obliged, rubbing her neck. Her dark skin felt smooth under his hands. "He hasn't attacked me, so do not worry."

Zizi winced at first, the crick in her neck tender. Yet, the heat was able to make it slowly go away and leave no pain. She had been looking down too much today. Maybe a day off would do her good. Between Klinge being an ass and trying to hurry to gather the harvest, her stress had skyrocketed over the course of a week.

"Say, I have an idea." Zizi suggested to Kahli. "I was going to take some of the leftovers to the hospital run by the Dusas. Each season we have some goods that don't make up enough for a sale, since we do so by the pound. I take the leaves, veggies, and fruits there for the sick to enjoy. The kids really love getting the honeysuckles. Would you like to go with me?"

"Yes. I would. Be a strong change of pace."

"Good! Meet me back here in an hour. I'll have the supplies ready!!!"

Taking the time to gather the leftovers, Zizi loaded the crates onto a cart with the help of some of the other plantation workers. Ari'phompa, Pojiji's earth dragon, volunteered to pull the cart to the hospital since it was too heavy for the horses. Since Pojiji passed away, Ari'phompha helped out her family and aided workers around the plantation. Earth dragons were the most docile of all the Lorleidian breeds.

Kahli walked towards the Dragon, curious by the mighty beast. "Are you telepathic? Or can you speak human tongue?"

"Kkkrrrrnnnnnoooonnnn!" Ari'phompa warbled at Kahli's question. As Zizi approached with a bucket full of cherries, Ari'phompa nudged her gently, purring. Her long tongue plucked a red cherry from the pail. "Rrrrrrnnn."

"What she's trying to---hey!" Zizi laughed as Ari'phompa licked her cheek. "What Ari'phompha is trying to tell you is that telepathic links can only be established through a touch of the minds. Like this." She rested her head on Ari'phompha's forehead. "See?"

"Once I do this, will I be able to speak with all Lorleidian Dragons?"

"Yes, you will, but only what they want you to hear." Zizi explained. "Like for example, when we were younger and playing hide and seek with Ba'puu, he'd close his thoughts off to me so I wouldn't be 'cheating' per se. Make sense?"

"Yes. And I can hide my own thoughts?"

"Yes and no. Depends on how good you are at guarding your mind." Zizi climbed into the cart, patting the seat beside of her. "Ba'puu and Zarazu share thoughts almost simultaneously since their link is so strong."

Kahli nodded. The same hatred that forged his powers forged his mind. It helped keep his head clear once he learned to control it. Putting his head to Ari'phompha's he awaits her signal. "Can you hear me?"

"You..." Ari'phompha breathed out from her nostrils, a slight rumble from her throat. "Are warm." Her liquid gold eyes looked at Kahli, glimmering. "I can feel heat on my scales."

"Ari'phompha is an earth dragon, they're sensitive to heat." Zizi watched as the dragon nuzzled Kahli. "Don't worry, you can't hurt her."

"You smell of earth and brimstone... what a unique combination." Ari'phompha tilted her head, curious. "Not Gerudo, not Lorleidian, none of the races I know of here... you are a itse. New."

"I will take that as a compliment. Thank you."

"I think she likes you." Zizi grinned as Kahli took the seat next to her on the cart. "Okay, Ari'phompha, take us to the hospital."

"Of course, for a bucket of cherries."

"Ari..."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Though a couple more would be nice, we only get those in once a year."

~

Outside the hospital, there were a few Dusas there to help unload.

"Zizi! We're glad you could come!" Naira exclaimed cheerfully as she walked out to the cart. The head of the hospital greeted her friend. "Who is this with you?"

"This is Kahli. He's going to help me today."

"Nice to meet you, Kahli." Naira gave a polite bow. "I appreciate you taking the time to help us today. It will certainly lift everyone's spirits."

Kahli gave a nod back. "Of course. Anything I can do to help."

"You want to take the children's hall?" Naira asked Zizi. "Or the elderly?"

"Well, I brought some fruit for everyone and honeysuckles for the kids." Zizi told Naira, gesturing to the buckets. "So, whichever you rather us take."

"Hrm... I'll let you and Kahli take the children's hall." Naira had been warned ahead of time of the prejudice Kahli had faced, and knew there were a few Hylians on the elderly hall that might recognize his race. The last thing she wanted was trouble. "Some geezers might be in a bad mood today."

"Understandable."

Klinge was not going to let him near children. However, after his last verbal argument with Zizi, he dragged down Zolori to intervene. He just finished explaining the history of the Hasai and how Kahli had grown alarmingly close with Zizi. The commander twisted his words subtly to villainize the Hasai. "...so you understand how dangerous him being at a hospital is. And why Zizi becoming so attached can be...unhealthy for her."

"Zizi gets attached to a ladybug on the windowsill, Klinge." Zolori sighed, rubbing her forehead. She understood the commander's wariness. If this was an Abyssian, she would be the same way. However, as Zarazu and Zolori expressed several times to Klinge, neither of them had control over their sister. "I know you what you want me to do, but I'm telling you, it's not going to work. Zizi has this... sense about people. If she says he's good, then..." She could feel Klinge glaring darkly at her. "What do you expect me to do? I can't just go in flames a blazing and kill the guy nor will I have much luck prying Zizi away from him."

"Make her understand he's a threat. A fire that will burn her. Do you want that? Do you want to see her dead?"

"Of course I don't want to see her dead, dumbass!" Zolori snapped at Klinge. "Though if I go spouting the same spiel you do, do you honestly think she'll listen? It will be like talking to a wall."

"Then I hope you get used to smell of leathery burnt flesh. Go see him. Get a feel for him. Even if the Hasai do despise him, he still remains a threat." Klinge simply left the bewildered woman to boil on the spot, while he went to tell Covarog of Kahli's location.

Inside the hospital, Kahli helped hand out food to the children. "I hope you are all hungry. Plenty of food to go around."

"You look different. Why are you red?" A curious child asked as Kahli presented her with an apple. "Did someone paint you?"

"Look at all his cool tattoos!" A boy jumped up and down on his bed, causing Zizi to catch him and settle him back under the covers. "My father has tattoos too, but not like yours."

"He doesn't have hair either!" Another kid chimed in their two cents. "Why's he bald, Zizi?"

"I don't know, why am I brown?" Zizi asked the child in good humor.

"Because... you work in dirt all day?"

"You drink too much coffee?"

"Eat too much chocolate?!"

Zizi actually laughed at that logic.

"Close enough." Zizi started handing out apples or oranges to the little ones. "If you're good, we got some honeysuckle too."

Zolori really did not like the idea of spying on her sister and the Hasai for Klinge. Though, she supposed it would not hurt to see what this man's intentions were. If he even dared to lay a finger on her little sibling, Zolori would show him what true rage was. Naira escorted Zolori into the children's ward with a smile.

"Hey, Zizi, your sister came to help." Naira chuckled at the kids literally hanging onto Kahli, asking him all sorts of questions. "It looks like you could use the extra help."

Kahli finished lifting a few kids up and down to approach the blonde woman. "You must be Zolori. Zizi has told me much about you. My name is Kahli."

"Don't let her fool you, Kahli, Zolori is worse than Klinge sometimes with her temper." Zizi teased her sister. "Then again, I haven't seen her really mad in a while."

"Oh, shut up." Zolori rolled her eyes at her, deciding to just observe the situation for now. "And it is nice to meet you, Kahli. I should have introduced myself sooner, yet, Zarazu had me arranging things for my trip to Uskar to help Kanisa."

"You're only taking everything in the world."

"Most of it is Kanisa's."

"The three crates of painting supplies?"

"Hey! They don't have painting supplies in Uskar! ... I think."

"You're a painter? How long have you worked on your craft?"

"Oh, I started when I was young. Loved to practice the tribal symbols and went from there." Zolori had little girls pulling her into the room, begging to braid her long blonde hair. Smiling, she simply sat down on the edge of the bed and allowed the tiny girls to play with her hair while she started to peel their fruits for them. "I love to do portraits the most. I painted Covarog's and Zarazu's portrait for the castle not too long ago when they were crowned king and queen."

"Zolori is an amazing painter, you don't give yourself enough credit." Zizi was doing the same task as her sisters, making sure the kids had peeled fruit. "That painting of Ve'nusa and me you did was amazing."

"Mistah Kahli, did you eat too many cherries? Is that why you're red?" One of the small girls asked him.

Kahli gave a light smile. "I was born red my dear. All the black lines are tattoos on my body. I am a rare breed of Hasai. One of the few good ones left. I come from a tribe, like the Lorleidians, called the Waku."

"What's a Hi-Sigh?" The little girl knew nothing of the Hylian's bias against their race. "Wa-ku?"

"They can use magic like we can, sweetie." Zizi tried to think of a good explanation. "Like Zolori, Kahli can use fire."

"Oh, he's a Vatra!" She nodded her head.

"Sort of, in his own manner."

"Would you like to see some fire?" Opening his palm, Kahli produced a ball of flame, like a party sparkler.

"Oooh... like fireworks!" The tiny one clapped her hands in delight. "Mama won't let me play with them no more. I got a bad owwie."

"Someone wasn't too careful during the Daourfel festival." Zizi sighed and picked the little girl up to put her back into bed.

"Mama said it would heal but leave a scar." She pulled up her tiny nightgown to show a bandaged leg. "But I'll be okay! It doesn't hurt much now."

"You need to be careful." Zolori reminded her as one of the other girls finished a braid.

Kahli changed the flame to a more burning fire. "Fire is dangerous if you do not know how to control it. It will lash out. And it will burn you. However, if you learn to properly master it...." He transformed the crackling flame into a pure orange ball. "It can become beautiful and powerful like the sun."

Nodding her head, the child seemed to understand.

"All magic can be beautiful or can be deadly, depending on how it is used." Zolori agreed with Kahli on that aspect at least. "You have to be careful and learn proper control."

"I don't have magic." The tiny girl shook her head. "Not like you."

"Maybe one day if you study hard." Zizi kissed the top of her head. "You'll have magic spark at your fingertips."

"Now it is time for all you children to rest. Dream and sleep well."

"What about a story?"

"Yeah, a lovey dovey story."

"Ew! No, a story with pirates like Princess Orana's husband!"

"Dragons and knights!"

All the children chimed in their suggestions, earning laughs from Zizi and Zolori.

"How about the story of how the king and queen met? It has fighting in it."

"How about a story of unexpected kindness?" Kahli offered. "It has an Assassin and an Empress."

"Assassin and empresses?"

"Why don't we let Kahli take a turn and tell his story, hrm?" Zizi tried to settle the children down the best she could.

Outside, Kahli heard Covarog coming out of fury he might have hurt the children, but started his story anyways.

"There was once a land of terrifying warriors. Some considered them even to be demons. They burnt everything down in their conquest for the world. They even wiped out those of their own kind, fearing the power of others that looked and thought differently then the majority. The leader of these warriors was an Empress. She had long black hair and the greenest emerald skin. Her power was grand and she was feared as the leader of these demons. She was so feared in fact, she grew many enemies. One day, a red blooded assassin sought to slay her, to avenge his people."

"Did he kill the bad lady?" A little boy interrupted.

"In time little one. The assassin trained so hard, so focused on seeing her as the ultimate villain. On his day of reckoning, he snuck into her fortress, killing her guards and confronting her. In his rage against her, he even almost slew her baby born. The Empresses power was too much for him though, and he was struck to the floor. The assassin expected to be killed....and yet he wasn't. What he expected to find was a horrible demon. Instead he found a woman. A woman who was tired and worn out. She took pity on the assassin, apologizing for the death of his people. Unfortunately, she could not sway the masses to stop his tribes slaughter. For how could she suddenly end generations of built up hate? The Empress, however, did offer an escape for him, and another chance of life. The assassin took this unexpected kindness and fled, channelling his hatred back into himself. No one knows if the assassin has found his new happy life yet."

The kids were listening to the story but were definitely surprised by the king tromping into the room. Zizi was the first to notice, nearly jolting out of her skin. She did not expect Covarog to come here of all places. Zolori turned her head to look at her sister's husband, who was definitely not happy with the situation. Naira, the head Dusa, looked apologetic to the group. She could not keep the king from entering the hospital.

"Children, I regret to interrupt your story, however, the queen's sisters need to return to their duties." Covarog gave a hard look to Kahli. "This one needs to come with us as well."

"Did you enjoy the story children? Any questions?" Kahli didn't even look Covarog in the eye.

"Is the king mad?" One of the kids whispered to Zizi, who placed a finger to the child's lips. The children should not be afraid of their leader. She did not know how else to keep the tension from rising in the presence of the kids. This was not the time or the place for a fight.

"You'll have to save your questions for next time, lovelies." Zoroli told the kids as she gently set a couple of the girls back into bed. "I think we have to go with King Covarog now or our work will never be done."

"Let's go before he starts something..." Zizi told Kahli in a hushed whisper. "I don't want to frighten the kids."

"And why would they have a reason to be frightened?" Kahli stared deep into Covarog's eyes, his orange gaze glowing to challenge the king. Children could be used against the truly just. "I believe we had the day off, no? That we were here on our own accord. If there is a problem with that, it would come from the king. So the question that remains is....is there a problem, Covarog?"

"Indeed, there is a problem." Covarog simply walked over to the Hasai and gripped him tightly around the shoulders with a single arm. "We need to talk about visiting hours due to some parents being a bit... unsettled by your presence here when the children should be resting."

With that, the king forcefully dragged Kahli out into the hallway, leaving no room for argument.

"Kahli did something to get in trouble, didn't he?" One of the kids asked Zizi, who could only fret over what was going to happen next.

"Zolori would you entertain the kids for a moment? I need to speak with the king about... visiting hours."

"When we leave this hospital, I'm going to burn you." Kahli said bluntly as the walked slowly out.

"Only if you wish to see the inside of a cell, or perhaps, my brother's torture chambers." Covarog felt tempted to put him there anyhow. "Maybe you would like to see my wife's little sister upset. You were warned to stay within the plantation grounds."

"Covarog!" Zizi ran down the hall to Kahli and the king. "Please, this is my fault. He was just helping me with a delivery, I swear!"

"You think I'm your prisoner? You think I'm a threat to you? Do you want me to be a threat?" Covarog' arm around Kahli grew increasingly hot.

"I think you're a plague on this earth that needs to be eradicated for good." Covarog snapped at the Hasai, ignoring the heat. He had his own fire magic. "What your people did to my little sister is unforgivable. The war you started caused grief for my people."

"Enough!" Zizi snapped at both of the men. "Covarog, you should know better than this! The Lorleidians forgave your father for what he did, you cannot find it in your heart to forgive the Hasai?!"

"You know nothing of what those monsters did to Kanisa, stay out of it."

"Kahli didn't do anything to you! You're blinded by the past and need to learn to let go or all this hate will consume you."

"I said. Stay. Out. Of. It." Covarog growled at Zizi. "This is a matter between my family and these cretins. It does not concern you."

Stepping outside the hospital, Kahli elbowed Covarog in the chest, and quickly took a stance. "You can rot in hell! I was a baby when the war took place! You think you've known suffering you rat? I will gladly show you-"

A whistle ran out, getting there attention. A group of armed men approached, clearly not Hylian. One had gunslingers outfit, tipping his hat and spoke with a northern accent. "There you are Hasai. Been looking all over for you. Apparently you've had a bad habit of making my  employer very mad. What with you hiding from or killing every man sent after you."

He snaps he finger playfully at Covarog. "You're the King around her, right?"

Covarog did not even flinch at Kahli's sudden burst of anger. He expected this from the Hasai. Frowning, he said nothing as Kahli started to provoke a fight. At the whistle, Covarog turned his attention to the bounty hunters. Great, more trouble, he thought. What idiotic border patrol guard let them through?

"A king, not a dog." Covarog glared at the snapping of fingers. "What do you want?"

"Kahli, you need to run." Zizi urged him in hushed tones.

"We are here for the illegal immigrant. Looks like you were having an argument. Why don't we take him off your hands?"

Kahli looked to Zizi, malice growing in him.

"Kahli, look at me. Kahli!" Zizi grasped his hand, instantly yanking it back when she felt the heat from his skin. "Don't even think of fighting Covarog. He's just looking for an excuse to throw you into a cell and let you rot. Don't give that to him."

"Oh, lookie here." One of the hunters snickered, gesturing to Zizi. "He's had more luck than we thought! He's got him a bitch now."

"I would appreciate it if you did not refer to my sister-in-law as such a degrading name." Covarog was not in the mood for this. "The Hasai is currently in custody of Hyrule. Move along."

"Boys. You aren't helping." The leader shook his finger at them. "He's a dangerous outlaw. We are going to take him regardless. So let's just make it easier on everyone."

Kahli walked towards them. "Please keep the windows closed from the children."

They were on the other side of the hospital, yet he did not want their innocence taken.

"Zizi, come back inside with me." Naira gestured for Zizi to come back over to the hospital doors. "You don't need to be in the middle of this."

"Kahli, please don't get hurt..." Zizi did not want him to fight. "Just run---"

"I said," Covarog stated quite firmly, his temper starting to get the best of him. "He is already under Hyrule's custody. Move along, or I will char your body to ashes."

"My employers have a bigger law and a paycheque waiting. So how about you wait inside your majesty."

Kahli threw his extra robbing to the floor, and his hands ignited in fire. The leader held his finger up. "Boy...don't. Nooooo. You can still be taken alive."

Kahli flipped the switch in his mind. With a stomp of the foot to the ground, he shot a wave of fire at the bounty hunters feet. Jumping in the air the Waku fired a precise shot of blue fire, blasting out one of the men's hearts. The leader whistled for his men to counter. "GET THE HASAI ONLY!!!"

Moving into close quarters combat, Kahli punched and kicked his way around the men. Grabbing the man that called Zizi a bitch by the face, he smouldered his skin clear off. "Cry like a dog."

"EEEK!!!" Naira squealed when the flames suddenly shot up from the ground. She made sure all the other healers drew the curtains at the windows, making sure the children saw nothing. Zizi was as anxious as could be. The Zemlja wanted to help, but she was not the best of a fighter.

Covarog decided he was not going to be a part of this fight. The bounty hunters wanted the Hasai, and for all he cared at the moment, the men could take him. If the bounty hunters were successful, he supposed it would get rid of the Hasai problem. If not, then he could always take the Hasai to Ralnor for a bit of fun. As a bounty hunter was tossed in his direction, Covarog stepped out of the way, letting him crash into a wall.

Kahli moved, disarming one man of his double bladed staff. With a palm strike he tore the hunters heart out, quickly rolling with his staff to cut down others.

The leader couldn't believe how quickly going to shit this was. Getting on his horse he decided to ride off.

Kahli kept hacking the last of the hunters down. Dropping the staff he grabbed the arms of a man swinging two swords at him. With the whip of his head he made his attacker scream out as his nose was broken. With no flare the Waku sidestepped around him and broke his neck. Watching the leader ride up over a hill and nearly dip out of sight, Kahli put his hands together. Doing a small motion forward to channel his energy, he fired a devastating lightning bolt. The energy shot forward, missing the man, but hitting his horse, causing the mammal to detonate. In an explosion of blood and gore, Kahli couldn't tell if he killed the last hunter as he was flown over the hill.

He finished off the bodies by cremating them, turning even the blood streaks to ash. Kahli took ten seconds to breath to himself, each breath calming him down. "Yes....and good riddance to trash."

Looking Zizi he wanted to meet her eyes, but quite couldn't. He didn't want to know if she was terrified. "Are you alright Zizi?"

Naira slowly opened the hospital doors when the commotion stopped. Zizi was behind her, wanting to make sure Kahli and Covarog were both fine. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw neither of them were harmed. Kahli told her he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and Zizi knew it, but still, she worried. Exiting the hospital, she rushed over to Kahli, seeing that Covarog was fine.

"Kahli?" Zizi asked, looking him over with a frown. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, they did not. And they'll never hurt anyone again." The young man was relieved she wasn’t scared of him. Subconsciously he found himself holding her by the hips. She brought him comfort that he desperately wanted at the moment after letting his hatred flow. "No one was hurt by a stray bolt?"

Covarog noticed how the Hasai pulled her so closely, tenderly, almost like a lover's touch. It startled the king. Whether Zizi saw him in a romantic interest or not, the Hasai was certainly becoming attached to her. This would have to be dealt with swiftly before a strong attachment occurred. He knew how Hasai were about their mates.

"No, no one was hurt, the kids did not see a thing." Zizi assured him, a little surprised by how he pulled her close. Was he... worried for her well being? She was not sure what he was doing. "Hey... hey, calm down. You're shaking a bit."

"I am?" Becoming more aware of his surroundings, he found he was. Letting go he took a step back. What was he doing? Why was his heart pumping? All he knew was that he cared about Zizi's safety.

Klinge and Ralnor rolled up with a few soldiers. "Covarog. What happened-" Klinge noticed the ash marks of human outlines on the ground. Without hesitation he snapped a sword to his hand.

"Someone explain right now."

"Some idiotic bounty hunters thought they could take him into their custody. Needless to say, they were met with an untimely fate." Covarog tapped his foot at the ashes on the ground. "No innocent was hurt."

"Hm... he's very good at making sure there's nothing leftover." Ralnor looked around at the markings. "All the markings of an assassin, for sure."

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay." Zizi tried to soothe him, making sure to keep holding his hand. "They're all gone, all dead. They can't hurt you now. How about you um... sit down for a moment? Clear your head?"

"I think that would be best."

Klinge gripped his harness. "Do you wish for us to put him under arrest Covarog?"

"Hrm, considering he did try to pick a fight with me before those bounty hunters showed, I think he needs a lesson in manners." Covarog decided since the headhunters did not kill the Hasai, he could have him arrested for threatening the king. It was treason, even though technically Kahli was not a citizen of Hyrule. Better yet, he was an enemy of Hyrule. "Take him in... and don't let Zizi see him. I know she'll do her best to sneak into the dungeons."

"Should I have my fun with him?" Ralnor asked his brother.

"No, no harm for now. Though feel free to use force if he doesn't obey." Covarog ordered Klinge. "And make sure he's wearing magic subduing gauntlets. No sense in him trying to burn down the whole castle."

"You can take tomorrow off." Zizi said as she took a glance, making sure he did not aggravate his old injury further. It was healed now, but it was probably still sore. "I know this took a toll on you, mentally and physically---"

"Sister of the queen," A guard approached her, several others behind. "Move aside."

Klinge approached on his black horse that appeared as unholy as him. A gift from Ganondorf. "You are under arrest for threatening the King, hence the King's orders you to be confined."

"...?! What?!" Zizi exclaimed. "He didn't touch Covarog---"

"A threat can be as simple as insinuating harm, Miss Zizi. Please move."

"....Do you want to fight again to stay by your side?"

Kahli was half way between restarting the fire within him and turning it off.

"Kahli, don't, don't fight, don't make it worse." Zizi slipped in-between him and the guards. No telling what Klinge would do if Kahli started a battle. Either way, it would not end well for either side. Her green eyes were begging him. "Please, Kahli. Don't give them a reason to hurt you."

"Yeah, Hasai, don't make us hurt you." One of the Hylian guards laughed. "Listen to your girl there."

Kahli flipped around and punched him, giving the soldier a black eye. "I could kill the majority of you." Looking back to Zizi he relaxes his fist. "But I won't....I'll be back Zizi. I promise."

Klinge walked over the poor guard, placing the magic sealing gauntlets on Kahli. "Come along now."

"Klinge, this is wrong, and you know it." Zizi protested when the commander put the restraints on Kahli. "You know damn well that Covarog goaded him along and knew that a reaction would follow!"

"I follow the orders of the King and Queen Zizi." With that he dragged Kahli back with him to have a nice sit down with Ralnor back in one of the Prince's cells.

"... ooooh!" Zizi fumed, knowing full well her sister would not give an order like this. Wait... her sister! Zarazu would certainly have something to say about this. Hopefully she could get this situated before anything bad happened. Hurrying to the castle, Zizi went to talk to Zarazu on Kahli's behalf.

[euroman1945-blog]

The Daily Tulip

The Daily Tulip – News From Around The World

Saturday 1st September 2018

Good Morning Gentle Reader….  Saturday, 3.30am and I can hear the beach calling already, so I think I know what I shall be doing when the sun comes up, and that’s laying on the sand, enjoying the wonderful weather… but first it’s a walk with Bella, so out the front door, turn right or turn left, none of that she wants to walk down through the old town, must be a smell that’s drawing her to that part.. down the narrow lanes we wander, brightly coloured pots fixed on the walls with a profusion of flowers spilling over the edges, purple bougainvillea, looking almost black in the sodium lighting, climbs the frame against the old walls of the museum, up the steps and past the excavations where they recently found a Roman villa, then twist and turn through the narrow alleyways and as if by magic, we are back home…… enjoy your week end…..

ENDANGERED OLIVE RIDLEY SEA TURTLES FOUND DEAD OFF MEXICO…. Fishermen in the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca have found about 300 dead sea turtles entangled in fishing nets. The find comes just days after another 102 olive ridley turtles were found dead in neighbouring Chiapas state. Olive ridley turtles, which lay their eggs on the beaches of a number of Mexican states between May and September, are considered to be facing a high risk of extinction in the wild. The cause of their death is still under investigation. It is not clear whether they got caught in the nets while still alive or were already dead when they became entangled. Experts say they could have been killed by harmful algae, fish hooks or could have suffocated while trapped in the nets. Mexico banned the capture of sea turtles in 1990 and there are stiff penalties for anyone killing them. A specialised federal attorney is investigating the case.

AUSTRALIAN WORKER OVERPAID BY A$500,000…. A worker in Australia has been paid more than 100 times their normal salary because of a decimal point in the wrong place. The worker was meant to get a salary of A$4,921.76 but instead found A$492,176 ($360,700; £280,250) in their account. The mistake was reported by the territory's auditor-general who put it down to human error. But the worker, based in a remote area of the Northern Territory, resisted temptation and returned the money. The auditor-general noted that the repayment was made four weeks later, but would have been made sooner if the worker had not been based in a remote area and had to travel to a bank. The report blamed two human errors - the incorrect data entry in the first place and then the failure to deal with a system-generated alert. It was one of 743 overpayments made by the Northern Territory's government departments between July 2017 and January 2018, said the report. Of that, $767,000 has still not been returned by the end of January. The Department of Corporate and Information Services said overpayments represented about 0.2% of the 1.2m payroll transactions it made in the NT each year. It said it had put in place several system enhancements to prevent such large overpayments from happening again.

HEADLESS CORPSE FOUND IN FISH TANK AT HOME OF MISSING MAN…. A headless corpse has been found inside a fish tank at the home of a man missing for several weeks, police in San Francisco say. Homeowner Brian Egg, 65, had been reported missing by his family and neighbours late last month. Neighbours later reported suspicious activity at the house and police searched it with dogs, eventually making the gruesome discovery. The body has not yet been positively identified, investigators added. Police Commander Greg McEachern told reporters on Tuesday that an autopsy was being carried out and that the missing person's case remained open. When Mr Egg's disappearance was first reported, officers called at his home in the South of Market district three times but received no response and saw no suspicious circumstances, a statement from San Francisco Police Department said. But on 14 August neighbours raised the alarm after seeing a "private crime-scene cleaning truck" outside the building along with a suspicious person. Police arrested the individual and entered the building. There was no sign of Mr Egg but investigators found evidence including cleaning products and "suspicious odours in the residence". The next day a more detailed search was carried out and human remains were found inside a fish tank in what Mr McEachern described as "a concealed area of the residence". Two suspects in the case were initially charged with homicide, fraud, theft, identity theft and elder abuse, but the charges were dismissed by prosecutors. One of those arrested remains in custody for a probation violation, officials said. In the meantime, police are asking for any businesses or individuals who were contacted by someone purporting to be Mr Egg to come forward.

BLIND DOG SAVED IN 'DRAMATIC' LEPE BEACH RESCUE…. A blind dog has been saved from the sea off Hampshire after it got into "grave difficulties". The small border collie, called Fly, had gone into the water at Lepe beach in the New Forest on Tuesday afternoon. Fly's owner Mark Cowing jumped in to try and save his pet but could not contend with strong currents and had to be helped to shore by a kayaker. A coastguard helicopter found the struggling dog 200m (656ft) offshore and directed an RNLI crew to his aid. Mr Cowing, 55, who is from Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, and is on holiday in the area, said: "We were literally playing on the shoreline when all of a sudden he took it in his head to swim to the Isle of Wight. Mr Cowing praised the emergency services and wants to trace the kayaker, who said he had heart trouble, to thank him personally. The RNLI said the dog, which had lost its sight due to cataracts, was "in grave difficulties and the lifeboat arrived just in time" to carry out the "dramatic rescue".

GOAT SETS 30 EXOTIC BIRDS LOOSE IN CARDIGAN WITH HEADBUTT…. A pet goat set more than 30 exotic birds loose when it headbutted their aviary door open. Vicky Richards-Barton found more than half of her cockatiels and budgies gone and the aviary door lock broken on Wednesday - suspecting her goat Udupi. Eight birds have returned home, but at least two dozen are still on the loose in Ceredigion and Pembrokeshire. Ms Barton-Richards guessed Udupi broke through the lock in an attempt to treat himself to some bird feed. She said she fed her birds at about 20:00 BST before going out for a walk with her husband. By the time she returned two hours later, the birds had gone. "I was feeding the birds and one of my goats came in behind me into the aviary and decided to eat some of the bird seed," Ms Barton-Richards said. "I imagine he headbutted the clip, which was in two pieces, and the bolt was open." Eight birds, including these cockatiels, have returned home. Ms Barton-Richards estimates she has about 50 birds, with more than 30 flying away after the door was broken. She has been helped by a friend, who runs a pet shop, handing out millet to people in an attempt to entice the birds into gardens, while some flew back on their own. But one man got more than he bargained for when rescuing one of the birds. "One bird was found in St Dogmaels, about three miles away, and she bit the man really, really hard. She was our matriarch so we're pleased to have her back," she added. She says the birds recognise her clothes and voice, and hopes as many as possible can be recovered, but worries predators such as Sparrowhawks and Red Kites may catch some.

Well Gentle Reader I hope you enjoyed our look at the news from around the world this, morning… …

Our Tulips today are certainly colourful.....

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Saturday 1st September 2018 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming Jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in

Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus #Spain #Tulips #Travel #Coffee

[adrianna-m-scovill]

Working Something Out Chapter Three

This one has more angst and less smut, but I felt compelled to follow the story through. This is not the end for Jonas and Sonny, though.

You can read the whole fic on AO3

Explicit, 16,000 words

“I’ve got some information on your sheriff.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Jonas answered, turning toward his sister.

“You need to—”

“No, Sam. I told you, he’s off-limits.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but this is something you need to know. About his family.”

“Family? Do you hear yourself? The man is sheriff, if we mention his family he’ll throw us out of town—if we’re lucky. If not, you can say goodbye to your big brother for five to—”

“Would you listen to me? For once?” she asked.

“No, Sam—They’re not a part of the show.”

“Well she can’t be, because even you can’t fake a return from the grave.”

Jonas had begun to turn away, and he stopped, looking at his sister. “What…”

“Oh, you’re interested?” She wasn’t intimidated by the look he gave her. “He had a wife, Jonas. She died two years ago, car crash. Now he lives with his—”

“Stop,” he said, and the harshness in his voice surprised her into silence. Glaring at her, he repeated, “He’s off-limits.” His stomach was squirming uneasily, and he didn’t want to examine the feeling too closely.

“I told you we couldn’t make money off these people!” she suddenly exclaimed, unable to contain her frustration. “I don’t work miracles, Jonas, remember? You have to let me do my job.”

“You do your job, then,” he said. “There’s a whole town to pick apart.” Her lips parted. He knew he’d hurt her, and he hesitated as he started to turn away. “I always listen to you, Sam,” he said. “But you have to trust me. We’ll make it work, we always do. There’s another way.”

“Whatever you say, Jonas,” she answered, and he sighed. “No, really, I’m sure it’ll all just magically work out.”

A retort rose to his lips, but he bit it back. With a single, sad nod, he left her standing alone.

  “Jonas.”

“Sheriff,” Jonas answered, looking up as the other man approached. “What can I do for you?”

Sonny eyed him for a few moments in silence. Jonas was sitting at a picnic table—sitting on the bench with his back against the edge of the table and his legs stretched before him—with his silver flask glinting in the morning sun.

“A little early for drinking,” Sonny finally remarked. Jonas could see the caution in the sheriff’s expression, but no judgement.

And he looked for judgement.

“You’re not in your uniform,” Jonas said, gesturing toward Sonny’s jeans. The sheriff was wearing a blue t-shirt that matched his eyes, and Jonas took a long swallow from his flask. “Do you need something?” he asked after Sonny watched him drink.

“What’s wrong?” Sonny asked.

Jonas laughed, but the sound held little amusement. He gestured toward the blue sky, already bright and cloudless. “It’s a beautiful day,” he said. “And apparently it’s your day off?”

“I work, just later,” Sonny answered quietly. His forehead was creased.

“Well,” Jonas said, rising suddenly, and smoothly, to his feet. “You should be off enjoying your morning.” He started away, taking another swig from his flask, but Sonny’s voice stopped him.

“Did I do something to…upset you?” he asked. The last time he’d seen Jonas had been on the water tower the night before.

Jonas turned, and his expression was tight. “No,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m…Why didn’t you tell me about your wife?”

Sonny blinked in surprise. “My wife?” he asked. “What…”

“You’re not wearing a ring,” Jonas said.

Sonny regarded him for a few moments before lifting a hand. He used a finger to hook the chain around his neck, and he pulled it up until two rings appeared above the collar of his t-shirt. He tucked the rings back inside his shirt without comment.

“You weren’t wearing that when you came to my room,” Jonas said.

“I took it off before I knocked on your door,” Sonny admitted. He’d never expected to say so out loud.

Jonas stared at him. “Why?” he finally asked.

Sonny sighed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Because part of me knew exactly what I wanted to happen. From the moment I saw you stepping off that bus, I knew what I wanted, I just didn’t want to admit it. When I introduced myself and you looked me up and down and I almost came in my pants right there on Main Street?”

Jonas was surprised into a laugh, but his expression grew serious in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry about your wife, Sonny,” he said.

Sonny nodded. Jonas could see the pain in the sheriff’s blue eyes, and he stepped forward, automatically. Sonny held up a hand and looked around, and Jonas stopped. He felt like he’d been slapped, and he tried not to let it show. He raised his flask to his lips and swallowed the burning liquor, but it wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny said, seeing the look that Jonas had tried to hide.

Jonas shook his head and forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I know, you can’t be seen with me.”

Sonny grabbed his arm before he could turn away. “It’s not you,” he said. “I’m the sheriff, Jonas, I can’t be seen…fraternizing with you, not when you’re here to get money from people.”

Jonas pulled his arm away from Sonny’s hand. “I get it. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not about you,” Sonny emphasized. “The real you. If we could just—”

“This is the real me,” Jonas said, spreading his arms and grinning.

“I don’t believe you,” Sonny answered. His voice was quiet.

Jonas lost his grin in an instant. “Well, that’s the problem with conmen, Sonny,” he said. “You never know what’s true.” He turned and walked away, and Sonny didn’t try to stop him.

  Jonas hesitated near the fence along the edge of the baseball diamond, watching as the group of boys approached the kid in the wheelchair. The kid had a portable keyboard set across the armrests of his chair, and he seemed to be poking at random keys. Certainly, there was no melody that Jonas could hear.

The reverend waited with a twinge of nervousness as the other boys approached. He expected, at the very least, a few cruel or mocking words. He didn’t want to have to intervene, but he would if things got out of hand.

“Hey, Jake,” one of the boys said, and the kid in the wheelchair looked up. When he saw the other boys, he smiled, and Jonas felt a touch of relief.

“Hi,” Jake said.

“Wanna go to Dairy Barn with us?”

“No, thanks,” Jake answered, still smiling. “Tell Mr. Vasser I said hi!”

“Sure thing.” One of the boys patted Jake on the shoulder as they passed by. “See ya ‘round, Jake’n’bake.”

Jonas snorted, amused by the nickname.

“Have a great day!” Jake said, turning his attention back to his keyboard.

Jonas found himself walking onto the field without really knowing why. Simple curiosity, perhaps—but there was something about the kid that intrigued him. Maybe it was the boy’s cheerfulness, or his desire to sit alone in the field with his keyboard rather than accompany his peers for ice cream.

“You know how to play that thing?” Jonas asked.

The boy looked up. “Some,” he answered. “Just a few things. Not like you, I’m sure, Mr. Nightingale.”

Jonas was startled, and he hesitated.

Jake smiled. “Everyone’s talking about you,” he said.

“Call me Jonas.”

“I’m Jake,” the boy answered. “I had a dream you were coming.”

Jonas felt a wiggle of unease at that. Don’t ask me to heal you, kid, he thought. “Bless you,” he murmured, automatically.

“Can I come to your show tonight?”

“That’s up to your parents,” Jonas said. Don’t ask, don’t ask me to do it, kid, I would if I could…

“I mean, can I come if I don’t have any money? Just to watch?”

“Of course you can.” Jonas said. “I’ll save you a spot up front.”

Jake smiled. “Will you play me something?” he asked, pointing at the keyboard.

“What makes you think I can play?”

Still smiling, the boy held up the keyboard. “Please?” he asked.

Jonas gestured with his hand, and Jake lowered the keyboard back onto the chair. “Here, I’ll teach you one from the show. Tonight when you hear it, you’ll know just how to play it. Repeat after me.” He played a few notes and watched while the boy copied them. “Very good,” he said. “Let’s add. How good’s your memory?”

Jake laughed. “Pretty good,” he said. “Try me.”

Jonas laughed, too. “Alright, watch this.”

Jake chewed his lip as he focused on Jonas’s fingers moving across the keys. When it was his turn, he hesitated, seeming to replay the notes in his mind before beginning. He played a pretty close approximation, with only a few missed notes, and Jonas was impressed.

“You’re a natural, kid,” he said. “Do you have a piano at home?”

“No,” Jake answered. “Just this. I was thinking about playing and singing in the talent show but I can’t really sing.”

“Everyone can sing,” Jonas said.

“Not everyone,” Jake answered. “Some people can’t even talk. Or hear.”

Jonas straightened and looked down at him. He took a step backward and held up his hands, making sure Jake was watching. He began “Moon River” in sign language, and saw the boy’s eyes widen in surprise.

They were both silent for almost two minutes while Jonas performed the song, and then Jonas paused, held up a finger to keep Jake from speaking, and signed part of another song. When he finished and dropped his arms to his sides, he repeated, “Everyone can sing. You just have to find someone who knows how to listen.”

“What songs were those?” Jake asked.

“‘Moon River’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’” Jonas said, grinning when Jake laughed. “You could see the difference. You could feel the difference, yes?”

Jake nodded. “You can feel the music,” he said, sounding excited. “Even when there isn’t any!”

“Music isn’t just something you hear with your ears, Jake. Dancing isn’t just something you do with your legs. Seeing isn’t only done with your eyes. You get my point?” When the boy nodded, Jonas said, “Music is like…magic.”

“Magic,” Jake repeated, appearing startled.

“It’s all around,” Jonas said, with a gesture of his hand. “Can you hear the crickets? Can you feel the sun on your skin? Smell the honeysuckle? See the blue above us? The sky isn’t really blue, is it, Jake? It’s just an illusion. But we believe it. We write sonnets about it. We made the sky blue, and now it’s part of our music. Everything around us. Even Helen Keller could feel it, the moment she understood that what her teacher was giving her was a way to communicate with the world, the moment she understood that the touch in the palm of her hand meant water.” He shrugged, and added, “Or at least, I hope she felt it. The connection to the world. Music is life, Jake, and life is magic. It has no power unless you believe it does.”

“Like miracles?”

Jonas hesitated. “What’s a miracle?” he finally asked. “Life. Love. Pain. Happiness. Grief. They all have their own melodies, don’t they? Even death.”

He saw something flicker across the boy’s expression, something the kid tried to hide. “Is death a part of music?” he asked, quietly. “Is death a miracle?”

“You have to draw your own conclusions, kid,” Jonas answered. “Here.” He lowered himself onto the grass beside the wheelchair and reached for the keyboard. Jake handed it over without comment. Jonas paused for a moment, with the keyboard in his lap, gathering his thoughts. “This is Rachmaninoff,” he said. And then he started to play.

After a couple of minutes, he looked up at Jake and saw the emotion glistening in the boy’s eyes. Jonas stopped playing. He waited, knowing that Jake had something to say.

“My mother died,” the kid said.

Jonas could see the guilt on Jake’s face, a guilt as plain as day. The kid felt responsible for his mother’s death. Jonas didn’t know the details, and he didn’t need to. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.”

Jake looked at him, surprised. He opened his mouth, and closed it again.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jonas said. “Will you do me a favor tonight? When you’re home, look up Yiruma’s ‘River Flows in You.’ Close your eyes and listen to it. Let yourself feel the melody. Will you do that?”

“Yes,” Jake said. “‘River Flows in You.’”

“Yiruma,” Jonas said. He spelled it aloud. “And this is one of my favorite songs. ‘Canon in D,’ by Pachelbel.” As he placed his fingers over the keys to begin, Jake spoke.

“Mr. Nightingale?”

“Jonas.”

“Do you believe in destiny, or…fate? That God has a plan for each of us?”

“What matters is whether or not you believe that,” Jonas answered. “Remember what I said about music?”

“It has no power unless we believe it does,” Jake said.

Jonas smiled. “Exactly, my boy. Now, do you want to hear one of my favorite songs or not?”

Jake laughed, sniffing, and said, “Yes, sir.”

“Pachelbel,” Jonas repeated, turning his attention to the keyboard. “Close your eyes and listen. Feel the magic of the world around you, Jake.”

  Sonny approached slowly. Jonas was sitting cross-legged on the dry grass, the keyboard across his knees. He was playing “Für Elise,” and perfectly. Sonny was struck by the beauty of it—not just the song, but all of it: Jonas’s effortless playing; his expression, a look of peace that Sonny hadn’t seen before; the smile on Jake’s face.

Jonas lifted his head, and for a moment—just a moment—he looked happy to see Sonny. And then he remembered, and wiped the expression from his face. Sonny watched it happen, and he was sorry that things couldn’t be different.

“I want you to head on home, Jake,” he said, quietly.

“But Dad, I—”

“Jake,” Sonny said. He didn’t raise his voice. “Please listen to me.”

The boy sighed and reached down for his keyboard. Jonas handed it over, but Sonny could tell from his expression that he’d been thrown for a loop. He hadn’t known that Sonny was Jake’s father. Two days ago, Sonny would’ve doubted the surprise on Jonas’s face, would’ve wondered if it were part of some con. Now, however, he thought he understood who Jonas was, and what he was.

Jake was sliding the keyboard into its case, and he looked down at Jonas. “Thanks, Mr. Nightingale,” he said.

“I told you to call me Jonas,” the man said, once more composing his features.

“I’ll remember how to play that song when I hear it tonight.”

“I know you will,” Jonas said, managing a smile.

“Tonight?” Sonny asked.

“At the revival,” Jake said as he slung the bag over the back of his chair. “He showed me how to play one of the—”

“You won’t be at the revival,” Sonny said. He hated the disappointment settling into his son’s expression, but he had to protect the boy from being hurt again.

“Dad, I wanna watch!”

“We’ll talk later. I’ll see you at home, Jake.”

Sonny watched his son’s jaw clench, and knew he hadn’t heard the last of Jake’s arguments. The kid was stubborn, but he didn’t argue in front of Jonas. Instead, he turned his chair and wheeled himself away without another word.

Sonny reached down a hand. He wasn’t sure if Jonas would take it, but when he did, Sonny pulled him to his feet and they stood looking at each other. Sonny hadn’t released his hand. “I don’t want you hanging around my son,” he said, quietly.

“I didn’t even know you had a kid,” Jonas answered. He hesitated, and Sonny could see the pieces clicking together in the other man’s mind. “The accident—he was with his mother, wasn’t he? Your wife?”

“He doesn’t need someone like you coming into his life—”

Jonas yanked his hand away. He smiled. “Someone like me?”

Sonny grimaced. “Someone promising miracles that’ll never happen. His grandmother took him to some faith healer. You know what he told my son?”

It was Jonas’s turn to wince. “I can imagine,” he muttered.

“Maybe the doctors don’t know why Jake can’t walk, but that doesn’t mean it’s his fault.”

“Of course not,” Jonas said. “I would never say that to him.”

Sonny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know that,” he said. “Or at least I want to believe it. But I have to protect Jake, no matter what. He’s always talking about these dreams he has, and signs, and how he’ll know when God wants him to be able to walk. Well, he might never walk. And he can’t spend his life looking for signs…”

“You said yourself that sometimes false hope is better than no hope.”

“Not for my son.”

“Not for him? Or not for you?” Jonas asked.

“Don’t try to read me, Jonas, we’re past that, aren’t we?”

“I can read you like an open book,” Jonas shot back. “Look, I get it. You need to look out for your kid. If I had a kid, I wouldn’t want him around someone like me, either. But you might want to talk to him. He thinks the accident was his fault.”

“He said that?” Sonny asked, as a cold ball settled into his stomach.

“He didn’t have to say it,” Jonas said. “Maybe part of his problem is guilt, I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. But he seems like a good kid. Smart, funny, kind. I wouldn’t intentionally hurt him.” He started to turn and hesitated. “Oh, and get the kid a real piano. He’s a natural and he deserves music in his life.”

Sonny grabbed Jonas’s wrist, and their eyes met. “I wish things were different,” Sonny said, quietly.

Jonas drew a deep, shaky breath, and stepped back. His eyes were bright in the sunlight. “Don’t waste your time wishing,” he said. “You deserve something real, both you and your son. Don’t settle for less.”

“You keep walking away from me,” Sonny said behind him, barely audible, as Jonas started across the field.

And you keep letting me, Jonas thought. “It’s what I do,” he said without looking back.

  “Who’s the guy who’s been snooping around?”

“What guy?” Sam asked without looking up.

“The old guy who looks…soft and professor-ish.”

She lifted her head. “He’s not old,” she said, without thinking. Jonas smirked and saw her clench her jaw.

“Just soft and professor-ish?” he teased. “Maybe he should do something about the gray, then,” he said, pinching at his own hair near his temple.

“He is a professor, he’s got a doctorate in new American religions. He’s writing a book about revivals. And not everyone has a love affair with vanity,” she said, and Jonas laughed. “Besides, he’s only six years older than you.”

Jonas tipped his head. “By my calculations, that makes him eight years older than you,” he told her. “I’m tempted to ask how you know, since it seems unlikely you’d come right out and ask…” He narrowed his eyes, regarding her, and saw the flush staining her cheeks. “You Googled him, didn’t you?”

She crossed her arms to keep from fidgeting. “It’s my job to dig up information on people,” she said, sounding defensive.

“Oh, so you found something we can use? Great, we’ll make a believer out of him.”

“No,” she said, harsher than she’d intended, and Jonas smiled again. It was gentle, this time, though. Seeing her discomfort made him sad. She shouldn’t be embarrassed about liking someone, shouldn’t be ashamed of having feelings. She’d worked hard to build the walls around her heart, but Jonas knew her. No matter how tough she pretended to be, he knew how soft her heart was. “Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “He won’t cause problems. If I have to, I’ll keep him distracted until we leave town. He won’t follow us, he’s got a hundred other revivals to visit.”

“If you have to,” Jonas said, softly. He knew that she didn’t want his pity, but she deserved to be happy. “Sam,” he said, with a sigh. “You’re allowed to—”

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do,” she cut in. “I get along fine, thanks.”

“Right,” Jonas said. “God forbid you actually care about someone.”

“You’re one to talk!” she exclaimed, but they both knew that caring about people had never been his problem. His father had always said he was too sensitive, and Jonas supposed that was probably true. He’d often wished he could turn his feelings off. Alcohol could dull, but not entirely erase, them.

He used his empathy to manipulate people. He knew how to convince a widow to hand over her wedding ring, and he knew how to make her smile while doing so. He knew how to seduce a person and make them feel loved for a night. And he knew how to find a person’s weakness, how to cut them down to size with just a few words.

The sharpness of Sam’s tongue could rival his, but Sam was a better person than he was. That had always been true. He’d loved her the moment she was born; she’d represented innocence, goodness, and he’d known, even then, that she deserved to be protected. He also knew that he’d done a poor job.

Jonas loved performing. He got his high not from the dollars landing in the baskets, but the smiles on people’s faces. Their money kept him fed, but their cheers were what nurtured him. Jonas was the most alive when he was on a stage, and he took no pleasure from fooling people. When he convinced a man to quit smoking, it didn’t matter if it was really God’s will or not. What mattered to Jonas was that he’d impacted someone’s life, that he’d left a mark. Jonas wanted desperately to be loved, to be appreciated. To be respected.

This was not something that he would admit aloud. He could barely admit it to himself. Sam knew him, and she knew the feeling. It was something they shared, a remnant of their childhood. They’d spent their formative years searching in vain for the love of a parent. They’d craved affection and acceptance, and they’d turned to each other. She’d been his best friend, and he would’ve done anything for her.

Every punch from their father had left more than a physical mark. Every cruel word had added an invisible scar. She’d been the only one who ever saw the real wounds, the only one who understood. He’d done his best to protect her, but he knew that she’d spent her life trying to protect him, too. The guilt of that knowledge was not insignificant for Jonas.

He felt things deeply, and Sam had trained herself to keep her own feelings buried. She’d made herself into an emotional shield for him, the way he’d once been a physical shield for her. It had been the two of them against the world for as long as they could remember, and they didn’t know any other way of life.

They often argued. In fact, there were few things on which they’d ever seen eye to eye. But Jonas would never betray her. He knew that she loved him, even when she wanted to strangle him. He also knew that she deserved more than being stuck with her brother for the rest of her life.

Sam, she deserved the kind of all-in love—breakfast in bed, celebrating half-year anniversaries, flowers on Wednesdays, cuddling in the early morning light, affectionate nicknames, kisses both passionate and tender, holding hands on the sidewalk, shared showers, shoulders to cry on, private jokes, gazes filled with adoration—that she secretly craved. The years on the road were slowly eating away at her.

They were eating away at him, too. Each performance gave him joy, but the rest of the life was wearing on him. No matter whose bed he was in, he always fell asleep feeling alone.

The highs were no longer outweighing the lows.

He couldn’t stand to watch her destroying herself.

He wanted to set her free, and didn’t know if he could. He didn’t know who he was without her and the show, and it had been a long time since he’d been brave enough to look his reflection in the eyes. She would be better off without him. She could build a different life for herself, a better life. She would never admit that, though. She would never leave willingly. He would have to drive her away, and that would hurt her. He wasn’t sure he could do it.

“Look, I’m not some helpless little girl anymore,” she said. He could see her struggling against tears.

“You were never helpless,” he answered quietly.

“So you don’t have to worry about me,” she said. “What you need to worry about is the show. We need to use the kid.”

“No,” he answered, thinking of Jake’s innocent, trusting face.

“No? No? I’m telling you, we don’t have a choice, not if you want to get out of this godforsaken town.” When he was silent, she narrowed her eyes. “You do want to get out of here, right?”

“Of course,” he answered, but he wasn’t sure if he believed himself. He didn’t know what he wanted. He knew he’d been thinking about things he had no business imagining; dangerous thoughts that terrified him. Sweetwater had awakened feelings that he didn’t want to acknowledge. Not just the town, he thought, his mind immediately turning to the sheriff. “But he’s the sheriff’s kid, and…Jake’s been through enough,” he said.

“Oh, really? The world is cruel, Jonas, you know that. The sooner the kid learns that—”

“He knows about the cruelty of the world, Sam,” Jonas interrupted. “The one thing he has left is hope—faith. I won’t take that from him.”

“Everyone in town says it’s psychosomatic,” she said. “There’s no reason for him not to walk, no medical reason. It’s in his head, Jonas. All you have to do is convince him that God wants him to walk, and—”

“No,” he repeated, his tone harsh.

“He believes in you. He will believe in you.”

“Yeah,” Jonas said, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “Yeah, Sam.” He could hear the rawness in his voice, and it alarmed him. “And what if it’s not all in his head, huh? He doesn’t need someone like me coming in and—”

“Is this because you’re sleeping with his father? You’ve done miracles on kids before.”

“This is different and you know it.”

“Everyone in town loves the kid. You can’t give them rain, Jonas, but you can give them something they want just as much. They’d each give their last penny to get that kid on his feet, you can see it in their faces when they look at him, when they talk about him. If you’re looking for a change, we can change. We can figure something out, but we have to get—”

“Sam.” He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. He felt like he was losing his grip on himself, a grip that had always been tentative at best. “I love you, sis,” he said, quietly. “But I can’t discuss this right now.”

Before she could say anything, he turned on his heel and strode away. It seemed to be his day for walking away.

  “It’s Jackson, right?”

The professor turned. “Jonas Nightingale, at last,” he said, extending a hand. Jonas looked him over while shaking his hand. “Did Sam tell you I wanted to ask a few questions?”

“No,” Jonas answered. “Actually, I came to talk about her.”

“Your sister?” Jackson said, and Jonas saw the wariness settle into the other man’s expression.

“You seem to have spent most of the day with her,” Jonas said. “Are you trying to screw her?”

Jackson blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“First of all, vulgarity aside, I—” He stopped, raising his hands when Jonas stepped closer.

Jonas poked him in the chest, and said, “She’s had enough assholes in her life. If you hurt her, I’ll bring hellfire raining down on your head, professor.”

“I appreciate your attempt to look out for your sister, here—Could you back up, please? Thanks,” Jackson said, smoothing the front of his shirt when Jonas took a step back. “I have no intention of hurting her, and I only met her this morning.”

“It only takes a few minutes,” Jonas said.

“Not for me, it doesn’t,” Jackson answered.

Jonas laughed, pointing at him. “Touché. So. Jackson. What’s everyone been saying about me behind my back? Come on, don’t make me buy the book.”

“So far as I can tell, everyone loves you,” Jackson said, and Jonas did his best to hide the rush of guilt he felt. “They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.”

“Hey,” Jonas said, spreading his arms. “What’s not to love?”

“I met you forty-five seconds ago.”

“Well, I like you, doc,” Jonas said. “You’re an honest guy, I can tell. I’ll bet you’ve never told a lie in your life. Don’t let Sam scare you off.”

“I’m not—there’s nothing going on between—”

“Careful, now, don’t make this your first lie,” Jonas said. He pulled his flask from his back pocket and unscrewed the lid. He held the flask toward Jackson, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” Jackson said. “Thank you.”

Jonas smiled as he took a drink. Replacing the lid, he shook his head. “So polite, too. Ask me some questions, professor. I love to talk about myself.”

“Alright. Why do you do what you do?”

“Do what I do?” Jonas asked. “You mean the Lord’s work?”

“If that’s what you believe, then yes,” Jackson answered.

Jonas narrowed his eyes. “I think we both know the answer,” he said, all traces of humor gone from his expression. “We rip people off. No—I rip people off. I use their secrets against them, I manipulate them, I give them false hope, and I take their money. And then I never see them again.” He shrugged, spreading his arms again, the flask glinting in one hand. “Do they go back to drinking? Cheating? Hitting their wives? Who knows. I get my money and I leave.”

“People ask for help…not hitting their wives?” Jackson asked, looking ill.

Jonas felt a stab of pain, as always, when he thought of all the bruised faces. “Oh, doc, you wouldn’t believe what sins people confess,” he said, softly. “They want God to cure them. So I put my hand on their forehead and I promise them absolution if they change their ways. And what promise does the bruised and battered young woman beside them get? What assurance does she have that the beatings will stop? Nothing but the word of a conman. We can phone in an anonymous tip—” He stopped, licking his lips as he gathered his thoughts. He shook his head and looked at Jackson. “What kind of man needs someone like me to tell him not to hit his wife? Not to fuck around on her? Not to hit his kids—” He pulled in a deep breath. “You’re an educated man, right, professor? Me, I never graduated high school, so maybe I just don’t get it.”

“There are a lot of terrible people in the world,” Jackson said. “But there’re good people, too. I have to believe that the good outnumber the bad.”

“And what absolution does a man deserve after hitting his wife and kids?”

Jackson swallowed. “I don’t know the answer to that,” he said.

“What kind of redemption is there for a man who offers false hope—” He stopped again. He opened his flask and drank the last of his liquor. He shook the empty bottle. “I need a refill,” he said.

“When you look into the face of a child with a black eye, and you see yourself,” Jackson said, “what do you do? You can tell me that you offer absolution to the father and take your money and leave, but I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you because of your sister, and Ida Mae, and Ornella, and every person I’ve talked to about you. I think what you do is tell the man that God will give him the strength to be better, you tell him that he has the power to change and be forgiven, and you take his money. And then? You get that money into his wife’s hand along with the phone number of someone who can help her. And then you whisper into that kid’s ear, and you tell him that God is on his side, not his father’s, and that he will survive the hell in which he’s currently trapped and he will thrive in the world, and there will come a day when his father can no longer touch him.”

Jonas opened his mouth but couldn’t find any words to speak.

“Is that false hope? Maybe. I don’t know,” Jackson said. “Maybe sometimes yes, sometimes no. Maybe they get away. Maybe they don’t. Nobody can save everyone, but false hope is still hope, and sometimes that’s all we have to get us through the day. Hope for tomorrow. You want to know what people say behind your back?” Jackson bobbed his head, raising his eyebrows, and said, “They say a lot, Mr. Nightingale.”

He turned and walked away, and Jonas stared after him, stunned into speechlessness. At least I didn’t have to walk away this time, he thought. He lifted his flask to his lips, remembered it was empty, and swore quietly.

  As Jonas stood, looking himself over in the mirror, he couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last show. It wasn’t the first time he’d considered such a thing. In fact, any night could conceivably be the last. He could be arrested. The van could break down permanently. He could be struck by lightning. Or he could just find the strength to walk away.

This isn’t the last, he thought. You have to do one more, Jonas. One more to get Sam and the Angels out of this town. One big show tomorrow night.

He dragged his eyes up to those of his reflection. And then what?

He didn’t know. It might be too late to save himself, but he could still save his sister.

And maybe a few others, too.

He turned his back on the mirror, adjusting his jacket. It was hot, and he could already feel the sweat running down his back, but that didn’t matter. His stomach was a churning pot of acid because he hadn’t eaten and had filled himself first with alcohol, then coffee, and finally water. That didn’t matter, either.

It was showtime.

For over two hours, he was in top form, and he barely looked at the kid—Jake—where he sat near the corner of the stage. And he didn’t look at the sheriff, who was on the other side of the audience, standing alone, a single time during the performance.

He sang. He danced. He smiled. He flirted.

He was kind, compassionate. He was witty, funny.

He went in every direction Sam pointed him, without hesitation, and even Sam, who’d seen his act more times than she could count, was impressed by the advice he was doling out. He was the best he’d been in years, and he could feel it. He could feel it in the exhilaration coursing through his veins, and in the cheers from the audience, and in the smiles of those he touched.

As the revival barreled toward its conclusion, however, he could feel a desperation growing within him. He wanted to stretch every moment, make it last forever. He didn’t want to look over at the kid and see the hope, the faith shining in his wide eyes. He didn’t want to look at Sonny and imagine all the things he couldn’t have, the things he didn’t deserve to want. He didn’t want to look at Sam and see the concern in her eyes.

But Jonas couldn’t control time, and he had to bring the show to a close.

He rushed backstage, but somehow the kid caught up to him.

“I should get myself some wheels,” Jonas muttered, glancing at him as he stripped off his jacket. “I see you convinced your dad to let you come.”

“I convinced him not to stop me,” Jake said with a shrug. “Can I talk to you?”

Jonas glanced around. “Bad idea, kid,” he said. “Your father doesn’t want me around you.”

“I was listening, Jonas,” the boy said.

Jonas, who’d been pacing, trying to rid himself of his residual, nervous energy, stilled. “What do you mean?”

“I heard you. It was just like in my dream.”

Jonas’s stomach clenched. “Jake,” he said, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna make it rain.”

“What?”

“Your miracle tomorrow night,” Jake said. “You’ll make it rain, won’t you?”

The kid wasn’t asking for Jonas to heal him, to make him walk. He was asking for rain for the whole town, the whole county.

Jonas walked over and dropped into a crouch beside the wheelchair. He swiped sweat from his forehead and met Jake’s hopeful gaze. “I can’t do that,” he said, quietly.

Jake wasn’t deterred. “I believe in you,” he said. “You were just like in my dream, Jonas. It was a sign. You came here—”

“No, Jake,” Jonas said, rougher than he’d intended. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hand on the boy’s arm. “I can’t bring the rain and I can’t make you walk. I’m sorry.”

He started to rise, and Jake’s voice stopped him: “I can’t walk until I make up for what I did.”

Jonas sank back down. “What do you mean?” he asked, looking at Jake’s face.

The boy swallowed and blinked the tears out of his eyes. “God won’t heal me until I earn it,” he said.

“If this is about what some asshole faith healer told you—” Jonas started, but Jake shook his head, sending the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I know it,” Jake said. “It’s my fault my mom died, and my dad is so…sad all the time. He’s all alone now, and it’s my fault. I was playing around and that’s why she crashed.”

“Jake, listen to me,” Jonas said, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “It is not your fault. You don’t have anything to prove, nothing to make up for, do you understand? Sometimes…bad things just happen, to good people. It isn’t fair, but it isn’t your fault.”

“I prayed for you to come,” Jake told him, swiping at his tears. “For the town, for my dad. You can save us, Jonas, I know you can. You just have to try.”

For my dad, Jonas thought, feeling pained. “I can’t save the town, Jake,” he said. “I can’t save your father, and I can’t save you. I’m sorry.” He pushed to his feet and saw Sonny standing a few yards away. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Here I go again, he thought as he walked away. Jake called his name, and Jonas ignored him.

  Sonny stood for a minute, looking at his son. Jake was sleeping peacefully, finally. He’d been upset when they got home. Of course, Sonny had never wanted him to go to the revival in the first place, but he’d eventually relented in spite of his misgivings. Jake didn’t ask for much, and seeing Jonas perform had been important to him. Sonny had hoped he’d see through the reverend and realize that he wasn’t really a miracle-worker.

He should’ve known better. Jonas was incredibly convincing, onstage and off.

I handcuffed him and had sex with him on his first night in town, Sonny thought. He got exactly what he wanted from me with just a few words and a smirk. How can I fault anyone else for falling for his cons?

It was more than a con, though, and Sonny knew it. He didn’t want to admit it, because it would be easier to simply paint Jonas as a criminal and a liar and write him off. It would be easier to think of their encounters as nothing more than sex with someone Sonny would never see again after Monday. It would be easier to ignore the presence of any emotional connection.

But Sonny couldn’t go back to the person he’d been a few days ago, and he wouldn’t if he could. He had to be honest with himself.

Yes, Jake had been upset when they’d gotten home. He’d asked for help into bed early, and he’d been listening to music ever since. The same song, over and over on a loop, something on piano. Sonny wasn’t big on classical music, but there was something comforting about the song. At first, Sonny had been pacing the house in agitation, frustrated that Jake didn’t want to talk to him about what he was feeling, angry with Jonas for coming into town and disrupting their lives, angry with himself for allowing it to happen. Eventually, however, the music had begun to soothe him, and he’d found himself sitting at the kitchen table, reminiscing.

He wondered what his wife would say if she could see him, see his behavior over the past couple of days. As he sat at the table, letting the piano chords flow through them as they echoed through the house, he remembered the life they’d shared, the family they’d created. He remembered the laughter, the love; the arguments, the worry.

Sonny knew that it wasn’t his relationship—relationship? his mind echoed in disbelief—with Jonas that would worry her. It was the two years since her death, the years that he’d spent burying his feelings and devoting his life to Jake in an attempt to ignore his own pain. The hundreds of lonely nights spent staring at the ceiling as he tried to fall asleep.

He walked over to Jake’s iPod and stopped the music, plunging the house into near-silence. Jake didn’t stir; Sonny could hear his soft, even breathing, and he sighed. He remembered how it had felt to hold his son in his arms for the first time, how exhilarating and terrifying and monumental the moment had been. He’d never known that such levels of love could exist.

Jonas might be a fraud in a lot of ways, but one thing was true: within minutes of meeting Jake, he’d known a song that could comfort the boy and ease him into sleep. He’d given him something that Sonny couldn’t deny.

The sheriff checked the phone beside the bed, making sure it was charged in case he needed to leave and Jake woke needing help. Then he quietly slipped from the room, pulling the door almost closed.

Jonas Nightingale had come into Sonny’s life with a cocky smirk and a sexy swagger, and he’d thrown Sonny’s life into turmoil. But no one was responsible for Sonny’s actions but Sonny, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret a moment he’d spent with Jonas. In spite of everything, Sonny wanted him, still. Just one last time before the man rolled out of town.

  “Evening, Sheriff.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Little bit,” Jonas said.

Sonny had himself planted in the opening, blocking the door with his foot as he peered out at Jonas. He hadn’t turned on the porch light, and the glow from behind him was dim, cast from some distant room. The sheriff was in sweat pants and a t-shirt; it was late.

“I know I can’t come in,” Jonas said. “You have a kid, and…you’re a good father. I can see that. I just wanted you to know.”

“I’m lucky to have him,” Sonny answered. After a pause, he said, “He fell asleep listening to some song, some piano thing. He had it on a loop. I had to shut it off when he fell asleep. It…means something to him. He doesn’t want to talk to me about it.”

Jonas tipped his head back, looking up at the moon. After a moment, he closed his eyes, swaying a bit. “When I was a kid, I used to pray to the moon,” he said, his voice barely audible above the soft sigh of wind.

“What did you pray for?”

“Escape, I suppose. Or maybe that my father would love me the way you love your son.” He lowered his chin to look at Sonny. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here. It was too quiet in my room,” he heard himself admit.

“You could find any number of people to keep you company, Jonas,” Sonny said, quietly.

Jonas held his eyes in the dim light. “I don’t want anyone else,” he said. “I tried to get you out of my head. I tried to stay away. I just wanted to see you.”

“Jonas…”

“I’m tired,” Jonas said.

“I’m sure you are,” Sonny answered.

“No, I mean I’m tired,” Jonas muttered.

“I know what you mean,” Sonny said, and Jonas knew that was true. Sonny had a weariness about him; Jonas had recognized it from the start. Now, he understood why.

“I had no right to suggest you were doing anything wrong with Jake. You’re a good father,” he repeated.

“You were right,” Sonny countered in a low voice. “He just met you and he told you things he’s never told me.”

Jonas made a face and waved his hand in the air. “Comes with the job,” he muttered.

“Have you eaten today?”

Jonas blinked in surprise. He considered saying something suggestive, crude, and dismissed the idea. “I don’t remember,” he admitted.

Sonny stepped back and pushed the door open. “Come inside.”

Jonas stared at him, unable to sort through the tangle of emotions swirling in his body.

“Come on, I’ll make some coffee. I’ll give you a ride back to your room after you sober up.”

“I don’t want to sober up.”

“Can’t have you wandering around,” Sonny said. “I’ll have to arrest you for public intoxication or something.”

Jonas arched an eyebrow. “In Sweetwater?”

Sonny shrugged a shoulder. “I wasn’t always a small-town cop, remember.”

“You could try handcuffing me again,” Jonas said, with a close approximation of his usual smirk.

“I’m inviting you into my house, Jonas,” Sonny answered. Then, to Jonas’s surprise, he smiled and added, “Besides, we already established you don’t like doing the same thing twice.” He shifted to the side, waiting, and after a few moments of indecision, Jonas stepped past him into the house.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Jonas said.

Sonny didn’t look back as he used a spatula to flip the omelet. “I like cooking,” he said. “Always have. Maybe it’s an Italian thing, maybe it was just necessity. I used to cook for my sisters.”

“It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Sonny agreed. Jonas was sitting at the kitchen table behind him. “It is that.”

“You came back here because of Jake, didn’t you? Because of what happened…”

“We’d always talked about moving back here,” Sonny answered, quietly, stirring the potatoes with the spatula. “Me and my wife. Bringing Jake back here, away from the noise of the city. He always loved coming here for holidays, summer vacations. We kept putting it off.”

“You were a cop there?”

“So was she. She was fearless. I worried about so many things, and it was the one I never saw coming. It was just a few miles from here. They’d just left to head home—back to the city. I was working. I know what Jake told you, that he’d distracted her, and maybe that’s true, maybe she didn’t see the truck coming, but you know what? I hope that’s true. I hope she never saw it coming.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonas said. He could hear the pain in Sonny’s voice, could feel it coming off him in waves. He wanted to take it away and knew he couldn’t.

Sonny turned to face him, leaning against the counter beside the stove. His blue eyes were shining. “Jake was in surgery for hours. They gave him a good prognosis. I know what people think, Jonas, but it’s not just some choice he’s made.”

“At least not consciously,” Jonas said, quietly.

“He wants to walk.”

“He doesn’t want to be a burden.”

“He’s not a burden. He’s my son,” Sonny said. He spoke fiercely, but kept his voice low.

“I know that. He feels guilty for not being able to walk, for you having to take care of him. He feels like he’s letting everyone down, everyone who prays for him, encourages him, wants the best for him. If it were an easy thing for him to get up and walk, Sonny, he’d do it. He’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Sonny swallowed and nodded, unable to speak.

Jonas leaned back in his chair and sighed, scrubbing his hands over his stubbly face. “I never should’ve come here,” he murmured.

“I didn’t have to let you in.”

“I don’t just mean here,” Jonas said, indicating the kitchen with a flick of his wrist.

“Neither do I,” Sonny answered. “Jonas, I know everyone in this town, but tonight I learned things about them that even I didn’t know. I heard them admit things, in front of their friends and neighbors and cousins—”

“That’s the game, Sheriff,” Jonas said, raising his eyebrows at him. “We collect secrets and we—”

“I know you’ve been hurt,” Sonny said. “I can see through you, Jonas. Do you wanna know what I think is your biggest con? You’ve convinced yourself that you’re unworthy of love and happiness.”

“You don’t know the things I’ve done,” Jonas muttered.

“I have an idea,” Sonny answered. “And I don’t care. If it were just me…”

Jonas dropped his gaze to the table. “It’s just sex, Sheriff,” he said. “No need to get emotional.”

Sonny turned toward the stove and shut off the burners. He transferred the omelet, and then fried potatoes, onto a plate. “Sex is an emotional thing,” he said.

“Is it?”

“I’ve always thought so,” Sonny said, sliding the plate onto the table. He went to the refrigerator and filled a glass with orange juice.

“Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong,” Jonas said.

“Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places,” Sonny answered as he closed the refrigerator door.

“For?”

Sonny looked at him with a humorless twist of his lips. “I think we both know the answer to that,” he said. He set the orange juice beside Jonas’s plate and sank into the chair across from him, leaning back.

“You’re not going to eat anything?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

Jonas looked at the food, and his stomach rumbled. It had become difficult to distinguish hunger from the hollow ache in his gut. He poked at the potatoes with his fork. “You know how it feels to think you’re swimming along fine and then, I don’t know, something makes you look around, and all of a sudden you realize that you’ve just been treading water. And as soon as you realize that, you become aware of how tired you really are, how hard you’ve been going for so long, and for nothing. You’ve been drowning, but so slowly that you barely noticed.” He raised his eyes to Sonny’s. “You know that feeling?” he asked.

Sonny nodded. “Yeah, I know it,” he answered. “But in my experience there’s usually someone nearby willing to throw a lifeline. Eat, Jonas. You look like hell.”

“You have salt and pepper somewhere?”

Sonny smiled. “Don’t you dare insult my cooking,” he said. “It’s seasoned the way it’s supposed to be seasoned.”

Jonas forked potatoes into his mouth and chewed. After a moment, he nodded. “It’s good,” he said, and Sonny laughed. “Seriously.”

“I know it’s good,” Sonny said, with a sparkle of humor in his eyes. “But your opinion doesn’t count since you’re practically starved.”

Jonas ate in silence for a minute, and Sonny watched him. “Do you miss the city?” Jonas finally asked. “When you’re painting over graffiti on the water tower, do you miss the excitement of…you know.”

“Real police work?” Sonny asked with a smile.

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“Taking rapists, murderers, drug dealers off the street, yeah, I loved that. Like I was making a difference, you know? Making the world a safer place for my family, for your family, for everyone. But it never ends. It gets exhausting. It’d started to wear on me, on us, on everything. There’s always another fight. Sometimes I miss the excitement, the…rush. The exhilaration, you know? But that’s not a healthy thing to chase, I suppose. At least not to build a life around. Because it’ll never be enough. The adrenaline always fades and then the normal bits can start to feel like lows.” He sighed. “I’d rather have contentment. Maybe that seems like settling, I don’t know. All I know is it’s a lot more…peaceful.”

“Are happiness and contentment mutually exclusive?” Jonas asked. Peaceful, he thought. It sounded nice, but he wasn’t sure he knew how to be content. He didn’t think he’d ever felt contentment, or if he would recognize it.

“No,” Sonny answered. “It’s just about not chasing…artificial happiness anymore. Realizing what’s real and important and…what we can control. We can’t change the shitty things that happen, all we can do is hold onto what we have.” He shrugged. “Like you and your sister, I guess. I know I’d do anything for mine, even when they drive me up the wall.”

Jonas ate the last of his omelet and set his fork on the plate. He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “I should get out of here,” he said. “Thanks for the food.”

Sonny also stood. He watched as Jonas picked up his glass and drank the last of his juice. “I’ll give you a ride back to your room,” he said, rounding the table.

Jonas smiled. “You don’t have to do that, Sheriff,” he said. “I’m unfortunately sober.” He started to turn away and hesitated, looking back. “You should keep Jake away from the last show,” he said. “People will come from all over the county. They always do. Come Monday morning, we’ll be out of here.”

“Like you promised,” Sonny said.

“I told you, I keep my promises,” Jonas answered.

Sonny stepped forward and kissed him. He took hold of Jonas’s hips and turned him, steering him backward until he was against the counter. Jonas let Sonny kiss him, but he kept his hands at his sides. He was afraid that if he held onto the sheriff, he would never want to let go.

Sonny pulled his mouth from Jonas’s and rested his forehead against the other man’s, breathing deeply, eyes closed. “I wanted you the moment I saw you, and I hated you for it. I didn’t even recognize myself when I walked into your room. I wanted to punish you for making me feel, and I’m sorry.”

���You’re sorry?” Jonas murmured.

Sonny pulled back to look at him. “No one can punish us as much as we punish ourselves,” he said. He searched Jonas’s face for a few seconds. “You woke something inside of me, and I thank you for it.” He dropped his hands and stepped away. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride. I’m just gonna leave Jake a note in case he wakes up.”

  Sonny was on his back, knees bent, hips levered up. He had a hand on Jonas’s arm and the other fisted into the sheet. He was looking up at Jonas, and their eyes held as Jonas slowly entered him, watching the sheriff’s face for any signs of discomfort.

Jonas sank into him fully and stopped. Sonny’s hand tightened on his arm and he shifted his hips, trying to pull Jonas impossibly deeper. Jonas didn’t move as he studied Sonny’s face, though. He said, in a soft voice, “People rarely surprise me, Sonny. But you, I never saw coming.”

Sonny slid his hand up Jonas’s arm, over his shoulder, cupping the back of his neck to pull his head down. Jonas leaned forward, and Sonny lifted his head to kiss him. As their mouths met, Jonas flexed his hips, swallowing Sonny’s groan.

Jonas wanted to stretch the moment forever, but he knew what Sonny wanted. So, he started moving, slowly at first, keeping his mouth on Sonny’s. He slid a hand over Sonny’s stomach and took the sheriff’s erection in his hand, gripping it loosely. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip of Sonny’s cock, and Sonny broke away from his mouth to tilt his head back into the pillow. He arched his back, breathing raggedly.

Jonas moved his own hips faster, filling and withdrawing; he watched Sonny’s face, and knew that he was close. He stopped moving, buried in Sonny’s ass, and released his cock. Sonny looked up at him, his lips parted, his pupils wide with desire. He shifted his head on the pillow, letting out a shaky breath.

“What do you want, Sonny?” Jonas asked softly.

“You know what I want.”

“Yeah,” Jonas answered, smiling. “But I wanna hear you say it.”

“I want to come with you inside me,” Sonny said. The unspoken words—one last time—hung in the air between them as their eyes held. Jonas moved his hips back, watching Sonny’s eyelids droop. Jonas shifted his knees, bracing his hands on the bed on each side of Sonny’s hips. One of Sonny’s hands was holding Jonas’s shoulder.

Jonas flexed his hips forward and pulled back quickly, stopping again. After a few moments, he repeated the movement. Sonny bit back a moan, catching his lip with his teeth as his fingertips dug into the muscle of Jonas’s shoulder.

Jonas looked down and saw that the tip of Sonny’s erection was glistening with precum. He returned his gaze to Sonny’s. “Not yet,” he said, and Sonny shook his head on the pillow. Jonas thrust forward, and Sonny’s eyes closed. “You’ll wait, won’t you, Sonny?” Jonas asked as he pulled back. Sonny nodded. “What?”

The sheriff opened his eyes. “Yes,” he said.

“Good boy,” Jonas murmured, and he saw Sonny’s throat bob. Jonas thrust his hips again, but this time he didn’t pause when he withdrew. He kept moving—hard and fast, watching Sonny’s face. “Not yet,” he murmured again. Sonny’s hand fell from Jonas’s shoulder and he clutched at the bedspread.

Jonas didn’t slow until he saw Sonny’s expression tightening, until he knew the sheriff wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. His precum was smeared on his stomach, now, and Jonas stilled his hips, half-sheathed. He lifted a hand, once more rubbing his thumb over the now-slick head of Sonny’s penis. He lifted his hand to his own mouth, making sure Sonny watched him suck the pre-ejaculate from the pad of his thumb.

Sonny made a sound close to a whimper.

Jonas was holding his own climax at bay by a sheer force of will. He wanted to savor the feeling—the feeling of being buried inside of Sonny—for as long as possible. That sound, though, almost pushed him over the edge. Sonny’s absolute need for release, and his determination to wait—his willingness to torture himself—were more than Jonas could bear.

He took Sonny’s cock in his hand. “So hard,” he said, softly. “So ready, aren’t you?” He slid his fist up and down the length, slowly. Sonny shifted against Jonas’s hand, and it was Jonas’s turn to suppress a groan. “God, if only you knew how good you feel,” he muttered. “I want to feel you tightening around me…” He gave Sonny’s erection another lazy stroke and flexed his own hips. Sonny gasped at the combination; he was overstimulated almost to his breaking point.

Jonas started a slow rhythm, sliding in and out of Sonny, his movements unhurried in spite of his own growing desperation for release. He stroked Sonny’s cock in time with the beat of his hips, and Sonny was trembling.

“Jonas,” Sonny managed, his voice raw.

“Come for me now, Sonny,” Jonas answered. Sonny moaned, his back arching, his fists clutching at the bedspread, his head pressed into the pillow. “Say my name again.”

“Oh, God—Jonas,” he gasped, as a tremor wracked his body. A few seconds later, his semen spurted onto his stomach, and he made another involuntary sound as Jonas continued to stroke him, slowly.

As Sonny’s muscles clenched around Jonas, he started to withdraw. The stimulation was incredible, and too much. He couldn’t control himself any longer, and had to get out before—

“Don’t,” Sonny said, reaching between his own knees to clutch at Jonas’s hips. “Come inside me, Jonas.”

“Sonny,” Jonas breathed, looking down at the other man’s face. A moment later, his hips bucked, and he spilled his seed deep inside of Sonny. He bent his head down and Sonny levered himself up for a kiss, but Jonas hesitated. Searching Sonny’s eyes, he said, barely above a whisper, “You’re the only one.” He couldn’t explain what he meant, but he didn’t have to. Jonas had never come inside of anyone without a condom, and then only rarely. It wasn’t even primarily an issue of practicing safe sex, as Jonas tended more often than not toward self-destructive tendencies.

No, what it boiled down to was a combination of intimacy and metaphorical self-flagellation. Jonas had never allowed himself real and complete release; nor had he ever allowed any real connection to form. It was always an act—an act that was enjoyable for both parties but never quite satisfying for Jonas.

Until Sonny. He’d gotten under Jonas’s skin from the start. He’d found his way inside Jonas’s walls without even trying, and Jonas wasn’t even sure how it had happened. All he knew for sure was that he would never be the same.

He couldn’t say those things, not when he was buried inside of Sonny, not when he was feeling more emotionally vulnerable than ever before, not when his breaths were still ragged.

Not when this was the last time he and Sonny would be joined together.

But Sonny knew. He could read it all in Jonas’s eyes, and he grabbed Jonas’s dark hair, crushing their lips together in a kiss that was almost painful.

You woke something inside of me, Jonas thought, closing his eyes as Sonny kissed him, etching every sensation—every point of contact—into his memory.

  “Jonas,” Sonny said. He was standing in the doorway of Jonas’s room, dressed once more in his sweats and t-shirt. “Or should I call you Jack Newton?”

Jonas offered a small smile, because they both knew they were far past that. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” he said, quietly.

Sonny nodded. “A man has a right to leave his father’s name behind if that’s what he chooses,” he said. “Jonas Nightingale is a good name. There’s something you should know, Jonas. Your sister’s been spreading word that there’ll be a miracle tonight. She’s been begging favors all over town—”

“We don’t beg,” Jonas said.

Sonny raised a hand. “An expression,” he said. “She owes the garage for the repairs to the bus. I know you haven’t paid for these rooms. She’s borrowed equipment all over town—”

“What’s your point? If you arrest anyone, it’ll be me. Everything is on me.”

Sonny shook his head. “That’s just it, Jonas. She does everything to protect you. I’m guessing you haven’t looked at your finances lately? Your singers—your Angels—haven’t been paid in months. They all love and believe in you, Jonas. They follow you without question, they perform without knowing when they’ll see a paycheck. And your sister, it’s her name on everything. Her real name. I have no doubt she’d go to prison for you.

“Next time you look in the mirror, you should try seeing what everyone else sees. What your sister sees. What my son sees, what the whole town sees.” He paused. “What I see. I understand why she wants to protect you, and why she’s promoting. She’s desperate. But if you try to fake a miracle tonight—”

“Keep your son away,” Jonas said, quietly. “No matter what happens, he shouldn’t be there.”

“I’ll arrest you if I have to.”

“I know.”

“I hope you don’t give me reason to.”

Jonas searched Sonny’s face, memorizing every line, every angle, every freckle. They would see each other again; at the very least, Jonas knew that Sonny would be at the final show.

Nevertheless, this was their goodbye, and they both knew it.

“Whatever you do will be the right thing,” Jonas said, quietly. “I have faith in you, Sheriff, and nothing will change that.”

“And what will you do?” Sonny asked after a few seconds of silence.

Jonas let out a breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Do me a favor, Sonny. When it comes time for the talent show, tell Jake to remember what I said. Don’t let him hide any bits of himself away, alright?” When Sonny nodded, Jonas reached out a hand and patted his chest, briefly, over the sheriff’s heart. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, Sonny,” he said with a smile. “I’ll see you around.”

He stepped back into the room and closed the door before he could change his mind.

  “Is it true that Ida Mae and the Angels haven’t been paid in months?”

“Jonas, I—”

“Is it true, Sam?”

“I told you I was worried,” she said. “But you didn’t want to listen.”

Jonas nodded. She expected him to argue, to point out the fact that she’d never told him just how bad their financial situation had gotten, but he didn’t. “I know,” he said instead. “And I’m sorry. You’ve been carrying a weight that wasn’t yours. But that ends now.”

He could see the apprehension in her face. “What are you saying?” she asked.

“You’ve been running the show for years, Sam. And all I’ve done is make your job harder. But—”

“No, Jonas,” she said, grabbing his arm. “You’re wrong. You are the show. You’re the one people come to see, you’re the one who’s kept everything together. Kept us together. You saved us, over and over again, and I started to take it for granted that you—that you always do whatever it takes. You always come through for us, for the Angels, for the show. I took it for granted and I’ve let you give up too—no, I’ve asked you for too much, and you never say no.”

He smiled. “I say no to you all the time, sis, you just don’t listen.”

“No,” she stressed, squeezing his arm. “You drag your feet and complain and put up token resistance and then you do it, you do everything, you chip off pieces of yourself and fling them to the crowd and the rest of us? We just tag along, living off your sacrifice.”

“You’re giving me too much credit.”

“No, you’re not giving yourself enough,” she countered. “Jonas, you think you sold your soul. But you didn’t. I sold it, or at least brokered the deal. This isn’t the person I want to be,” she said, spreading her arms. “I tried to force you to convince a kid that you could heal him and I tried to convince myself that it was justifiable because it was for the greater good. That the possible trauma to an already traumatized kid was an…acceptable risk. And you balked. And I…I would’ve done it anyway. I would’ve forced you into it because that’s what I do, isn’t it? I let you do all the feeling, all the caring, and I just…take care of business. I met somebody I actually liked and I didn’t even know what to do because it’s been so long.” She saw Jonas’s gaze shift toward Jackson, who was at the other end of the tent talking into his phone. “And something happened between you and the sheriff, something more than just sex, you can’t tell me otherwise. We deserve to be happy, Jonas.”

Jonas caught Ida Mae’s eye and motioned her over. When the older woman had joined them, Jonas put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. “I want you to know that you—both of you, and the Angels—have been my salvation, you two especially have kept me going through some dark times. Ida Mae, I will make it right, I give you my word.”

She patted his arm. “We never doubted you, my boy,” she said with a smile.

“I will take care of it,” he told Sam.

His sister shook her head. “Jonas, you’re not listening—”

“No, Sam, I am listening,” he said, quietly. “I’m hearing you, I promise. You two have stuck with me, and I love you for it. I just need you to trust me a little bit longer.”

“Son, you know I’m with you to the end,” Ida Mae said. Jonas bent forward and kissed her cheek, giving her a hug. Then he looked at Sam.

“Promise me you’ll be okay, Jonas,” his sister said.

He smiled. ���I promise. We’ll be okay,” he answered.

“I’ll do whatever you think is best,” Sam said after a few moments of silence.

 Jonas stood in front of the mirror, studying himself. He’d spent most of the day going through the financial records, adding up their assets and tallying their debts. He’d been surprised to find that Sam had never sold their parents’ house. It was in his name—the name of Jack Newton—but he’d long ago given her complete control over his finances.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that Sonny had been right. All of the assets—the house, the bus, the truck, the equipment, everything they owned—was in his name. Sam, from a legal standpoint, owned nothing, and yet it was her signature on everything.

Jonas felt reasonably calm. The books weren’t nearly as discouraging as he’d feared, and he knew what he had to do. He’d spent the entire day sober, drinking nothing but water, and he’d even eaten breakfast and lunch.

He was about to disappoint, and probably anger, a lot of people, and he wasn’t happy about that. It was a necessary evil, though. They would be better off in the long run, he hoped. The tent was full. As predicted, people had come from all over the county, lured by the possibility of witnessing a miracle.

Jake was out there, too.

Jonas straightened his jacket and let out a breath. Time to make things right, he thought. He turned and picked up his guitar, looping the strap over his shoulder. Just give me the strength to give them what they need.

  When Jonas walked onto the stage with his guitar, a hush fell over the crowd. He could see a ripple of confusion pass through the audience, saw people exchanging glances. He caught Sonny’s gaze for just a moment before looking away. He met Jake’s eyes, up front near the stage. The boy offered Jonas a smile of encouragement, and in that moment, Jonas would have given up everything—his very life—to be able to help Jake. It wasn’t necessarily about him walking, either; all Jonas wanted was for Jake to find peace, to forgive himself and be happy. He deserved to be happy, and so did his father.

The Angels were on their marks, but they were silent. Jonas walked to the middle of the stage.

“Jonas?” Sam asked, softly, in his ear. He looked over at her and nodded. She was holding tightly to Jackson’s hand, though Jonas didn’t think she was aware of the fact.

Jonas faced the audience and started playing. He glanced at Jake and offered a small smile when he saw recognition dawning on the kid’s face. The last time he’d heard Jonas play the song, it had been on the keyboard. The boy had a good ear for music, and Jonas hoped it would serve him well in his life.

Jonas started pacing as he played Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” on the guitar. The audience was silent, still not sure what to think. It wasn’t gospel music, and it wasn’t what they’d expected, but it was a song that had always soothed him. It was difficult to play on guitar, and he’d never performed it in front of anyone except for Jake the day before, but his fingers knew the chords by heart. Jonas walked the stage, scanning the audience, meeting their eyes, reading their desperation.

He transitioned from Pachelbel into “Rise Up,” and the Angels, led by Ida Mae, started singing a subdued version of the song. He walked back to his spot on the center of the stage.

“My name is Jonas Nightingale,” he said, his gaze skimming the faces. Some were familiar, the citizens of Sweetwater; others were new. “But that wasn’t always the case,” he continued, and another murmur passed through the audience. “Who here has read Romeo and Juliet?” he asked. He nodded as half the audience members raised their hands. “The nightingale didn’t bring good fortune, did it?” He smiled as a nervous titter of laughter rippled through the tent. He ran his fingers over the strings of his guitar, gathering his thoughts. “I chose the name because all I ever wanted to do was sing. My father was less than encouraging of that dream. But my sister, Sam,” he said, turning to look at her with a gesture of his chin, “she always believed in me. She told me once, when I was nine and she was seven, that God was going to send a whale to rescue us. She’d learned about Jonah in Sunday school—though she’d mixed up bits of it with Pinocchio, I think,” he added, winking at Sam as the audience laughed again.

Jonas looked at the crowd. “I was sitting in my closet with a broken arm and a bloody nose, gifts from our father, and I told my little sister that there was no such thing as God, and that no one was coming to rescue us. I looked her in the face, and I told her to grow up and to stop believing in fantasies. I was cruel, because I was hurt.” He paused, and the silence in the tent was tangible. “And my sister put her arms around me, and she said something that I will never forget.”

“Jonas,” Sam breathed in his earpiece.

“She said, ‘then you save me and I’ll save you.’ I dropped out of school to go to work after our parents died, determined to make sure she graduated even though she was a pain in the ass about it,” he said, and he heard his sister’s laugh. “So I was working, scraping pennies together wherever I could, and our local preacher asked me to sing at the church picnic. I didn’t get why he’d ask, I was a sullen little heathen who hadn’t stepped inside the church in years, but I wanted to sing. I memorized some gospel, and I memorized some scripture, and I got up there in front of all those patrons in their Sunday best, me in a ratty old suit of my father’s that was too big, and I put on a show, by God. I was angry about it, at the start. And then something changed.

“People were smiling, and I started to suck up their energy like a sponge. Aside from Sam, I don’t think I’d ever made anyone happy in my life. Now, someone had put out a bucket for donations. The very idea of charity made my fists clench, but Sam told me it wasn’t charity. It was payment for my performance. She called me a prophet for profit.” He paused, cocking an eyebrow at the crowd. “Get it?” he asked, and he was answered with nods and some laughter. “Jonah, Jonas. Prophet,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “Nightingale. I think you can follow the logic of the boy I was.”

He paused again, running his fingers absentmindedly over the guitar strings.

He glanced over at Sam, and she knew what he wanted.

“D-three,” she said, quietly. “Dry well.”

Jonas looked at the third seat in the section marked D. He walked toward the edge of the stage and hopped down, swinging his guitar to his back. “When Sam was a senior in high school, our well went dry,” he told the young woman. “We didn’t have a drought to worry about like you folks, but we couldn’t afford even basic repairs on the house, let alone the thousands of dollars the well-driller quoted us. I was hauling water from the creek for bathwater, and we were boiling it to drink.

“And then one day Sam came running into the store where I was working to tell me that they were out at the house drilling. By the time I got there, it was too late to stop them, and I panicked, because I had no way to pay for the work. One of the workers tried to calm me down, and I punched him in the face. He was about twice my size and promptly knocked me on my ass—more out of surprise than anything else. He could’ve squashed me like a bug. Even so, I jumped up ready to fight.

“It was the preacher who grabbed me and pulled me back. He’d stopped by to tell me that the church had taken up a collection to pay for our well.” He saw the tears shimmering in the young woman’s eyes, and he put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you feel guilty about all the help that you’ve been getting from your friends and neighbors…”

“Florence,” Sam said.

“Florence, but ask yourself this: if your roles were reversed, would you hesitate to help?” She shook her head, and Jonas continued, “The rain will come, I promise you. You will get back on your feet. I know it feels hopeless. I used to lie on my bed, staring at my ceiling, my stomach full of knots and acid, unsure how I’d provide our next meal or pay the following month’s electric bill. But someone told me that when you feel like you’re drowning, there’s usually someone willing to throw you a lifeline if you look around. You just have to be willing to take it.” He straightened and caught Sonny’s gaze for a moment.

“A-fourteen,” Sam said. “Alcoholic.”

Jonas walked over to the man, who looked up at him with apprehension. “When I was nineteen, I stole a twelve-pack of Pabst from the gas station. It was easy. The attendant was in his seventies and more likely to fall asleep behind the counter than not. I used to steal cigarettes because there was no way I could afford to buy them.

“Anyway, I got hammered, and I was wandering around town, and someone offered me a ride. The preacher’s wife—the same preacher who’d let me perform at that picnic, who’d organized a fund for our well. His wife drove me onto a two-track a mile from my house, and we had sex in her car. I was so drunk that I barely remembered it in the morning, but I remembered enough.

“She was more than twice my age, but I knew that I was responsible. I’d made the choices that led to that road. And I couldn’t confess, because I wanted to protect her. I wanted to protect her husband. And I wanted to protect myself. So I just let it eat away at me, and I drank more and more until I got caught stealing a bottle of vodka from the station. I spent the night in jail, and it was the preacher who picked me up in the morning.

“He knew already. I don’t know if she’d told him or if he’d just guessed, but he knew. And do you know what he did? He forgave me. He told me that we don’t have to be defined by our poor choices, that there’s always time for redemption if we’re willing to work for it.

“I’ve found myself in ditches, in strangers’ beds, in jail, even passed out beneath a church pew. It always starts the same. I feel like I’m drowning, or suffocating, like there’s no way out of the hole I’m in and the sides are caving in on me, and all I want is to shut off my traitorous mind for a few minutes, just to get some relief. The bottle helps for a bit, doesn’t it? But it’s a false prophet, my brother, and you know as well as I do that it solves nothing.

“That preacher forgiving me didn’t solve anything, either. All that did was add to my guilt. Confessing our sins is the first step toward redemption—”

“Harold.”

“Harold, but the final step is forgiveness. Not from others, but from ourselves. We have to accept that our transgressions are a part of us, but they are not all that we are. The world can seem hopeless, but I promise you that the alcohol makes it worse. Things aren’t as bleak as they seem from the bottom of the bottle. Ask for help and you shall receive it.”

Jonas turned, adjusting his guitar. Sam said, “C-seven. Cheating on his wife. His name’s Scott.”

Jonas took a breath as he approached the man. “I won’t lie, Scott,” he said. “I’ve slept with married women, and men. I told myself it wasn’t that big a deal because they were clearly unhappy in their marriages. I tried not to think about their spouses, and how they would feel. I tried not to think of each and every one of them as that preacher. But they deserved better, and your beautiful wife here deserves better. You can change, Scott, and maybe she’ll forgive you. But you,” he said, turning to the young woman.

“Janie.”

“You deserve better, Janie,” he said. “Don’t settle for someone who doesn’t treat you with respect. Don’t settle for someone like me.”

“At least you weren’t married!” someone called out, and Jonas lifted his head, holding up a hand.

“No, I wasn’t married,” he said, “but I was still hurting people. Qualifications are dangerous, my friend, because we start to give ourselves permission to put our own desires ahead of everyone else’s.”

Sam gave him another seat, and Jonas turned in that direction.

For the next hour, he traveled through the crowd, confessing his sins, admitting his moments of weakness and despair. There were more and more heckles from the crowd as many of the people grew restless and irritable. This wasn’t what they’d come to see.

Jonas turned and walked onto the stage. He faced the crowd and waited while they grumbled amongst themselves. Finally, they began to quiet, their curiosity getting the best of them.

“I can’t offer you a miracle,” Jonas said, and there were a few angry shouts. Jonas paused. “I’m not even sure I believe in miracles,” he continued.

“You’re a fraud!” someone hollered.

“Yes,” Jonas agreed.

“No!” Jake shouted, and Jonas’s stomach clenched. The boy wheeled his chair forward and faced the crowd. “You’re not listening!” he told them. “He’s talking about life! Don’t you get it? Life is a miracle!”

Jonas looked up and saw, even from a distance, the emotion glistening in Sonny’s eyes.

“We’re all alive!” Jake said.

Jonas glanced upward at the sound of thunder outside. There’d been several short, dry thunderstorms since Jonas had been in Sweetwater, and no one seemed to pay any attention to this rumble. To Jonas, it sounded—it felt—different, and he had a strange flutter in his stomach. Please, he thought, turning his attention back to Jake.

“Jake,” he said, and the boy turned to look at him.

“You came to save us, Jonas,” Jake said.

Jonas shook his head. “No, son,” he answered. “They’re right, I’m a fraud. But it ends tonight.” He looked up at the crowd. “These Angels behind me have stuck with me when I didn’t deserve it. My sister has given up her own dreams so that I could stand on a stage each weekend. I’ve lied, robbed, cheated—Everyone here has sinned in some way, small or large, but you’re not alone. I’ve committed more sins than all of you. Tonight is about atonement. It’ll take me longer than one night to pay them back, but for the rest of you, you’ll notice the baskets at the ends of these aisles? That’s all the money that’s been collected from the citizens of Sweetwater. I trust you’ll take what you gave.

“As for those of you we owe money,” he said, nodding toward the garage owner seated in the front row, “you will be paid. Over the next week, I’ll be liquidating my assets to pay my debts. If you don’t want to wait, I have a title I’ll sign over—”

“Jonas,” Sam said. He looked over at her and offered a small smile.

“I only ever wanted to make people happy,” he said. “I wanted to sing, I wanted to make people smile, and I wanted to make my sister proud.” He looked at the crowd. “You have no reason to believe me, but I want you all to be happy. If I could, I would—”

“No,” Jake repeated, and Jonas looked down as the boy rolled himself over the nearest basket. “You came to save us, Jonas!” he repeated. “I believe in you, you just have to believe in yourself.” The boy shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of dollar bills and change, dropping the whole mess into the collection.

There was a loud clap of thunder, and Jonas saw people looking up at the tent.

“You said, music is life and life is magic and we just have to listen and believe. Well, I do,” Jake said.

“Jake,” Jonas said, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He stepped toward the edge of the stage but stopped when Florence, the young woman with the dry well, got to her feet and walked to Jake’s side.

“I believe that everyone deserves a lifeline,” she said, dropping money into the basket. She ruffled Jake’s hair, and the boy smiled up at her, his relief evident. She looked up at Jonas. “And new beginnings,” she added.

One by one, people started rising and making their way to the baskets, dropping money into the collections. Jonas took a step backward, and then another, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw Sonny walking over to stand beside Jake.

Jonas could scarcely breathe. This hadn’t been part of his plan. He could hear the Angels murmuring behind him, and he could hear Sam talking—but he couldn’t make out her words over the roaring in his ears.

He saw people looking around at each other, and looking up, and he suddenly realized that it wasn’t the rush of blood in his ears that he was hearing. He watched as the crowd surged toward the exit. Sonny cast him a look, but Jonas could only stare at him in disbelief. The sheriff took hold of Jake’s chair and wheeled him into the crowd, calling to his deputies to make sure people stayed calm as they tried to get outside.

The Angels filed off the stage, also headed outside. Jonas looked over at Sam as she and Jackson walked onto the stage.

“Rain, Jonas,” she said, unnecessarily. “Come on.” She reached for his hand, but he stepped back, pulling his guitar strap over his head.

“You go,” he told her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Jonas—”

“I’ll be right out, I promise,” he said. He set his guitar on the stage and watched as Jackson, his hand at the small of Sam’s back, escorted her through the now-empty rows of chairs. Jonas tipped his head up, closing his eyes, and listened to the thrum of rain on the tent. He could hear voices outside, shouts and laughter. Thank you for giving him this, he thought. All of them, but especially Jake. Thank you, he thought. He lowered his head and went down the stairs, walking toward the crowd gathered outside the tent.

He stepped outside, and the crowd drew apart to let him pass. It was pouring, and Jonas’s clothes were instantly soaked.

Jonas looked over at Jake in the pale glow from the tent. The boy was sitting with his face tipped up, smiling into the rain. If anyone did this, kid, it was you, not me, Jonas thought. He looked around at the townspeople; they were laughing, celebrating, hugging, dancing. Jonas looked at Sam. She and Jackson were staring at each other, and Sam had an expression that Jonas hadn’t seen on her face since she was a little girl. She looked happy.

Jonas looked at Ida Mae and her daughter, standing in their drenched robes with their arms around each other. He looked at the other Angels, and he thought, I was unworthy of your loyalty.

He looked at Sonny. The sheriff was talking to a deputy. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his clothes stuck to his body. He was beautiful, and he was everything that Jonas wanted. No one can punish us as much as we punish ourselves, he thought. His gaze swung back to Jake, and Jonas knew what he had to do. He knew it might cost him everything. If he was wrong, he would have nothing left.

Worse, he would be hurting Jake, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

Jonas didn’t think he was wrong, though. He felt a sense of purpose flowing through his veins. He swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and walked over to the boy’s chair. Jake looked at him, still smiling, and Jonas lowered himself into a crouch.

“Jake,” he said. “It’s time.”

The boy’s smile faltered. His hair was plastered to his forehead; rain dripped from his face. He shook his head. His chin trembled. “I can’t,” he said.

“You’ve punished yourself long enough,” Jonas said. “Look at me, son. You were wrong, I wasn’t sent here for the rain, Jake. I was sent here for you. To tell you it’s time.”

Jake stared at him, and Jonas could feel the fear emanating from the boy. But he could see the faith in the kid’s eyes, too, could see the belief and hope.

“Jonas,” Sam said, and he looked up to see his sister standing beside him. She shook her head. “You don’t have to do this,” she told him.

“Yes,” he answered. His gaze cut toward Sonny, and his eyes met the sheriff’s. “I do.” He saw Sonny’s frown, saw his gaze shift to Jake’s face, and then he saw understanding dawning. Sonny started forward, but he was too far away to make it through the crowd in time. Jonas looked at Jake and said the boy’s name.

Jake swallowed, and gave a little nod. “Get me up, Jonas,” he said, quietly. All around them, people had begun to quiet and were turning toward the boy. Under the drumbeat of the rain, a hush spread through the crowd.

Jonas reached an arm behind Jake’s back, grabbing him under his arms. Sam was holding the chair; Jackson was beside her, a hand on her shoulder. Through the rain, Jonas heard Sonny call his name.

Jonas lifted Jake to his feet and held him up. The boy’s legs felt boneless beneath him, and Jonas supported all of his weight. Please, he thought. Take what you want from me, but give him this. Jonas saw Sonny stop at the edge of the crowd, and Jonas closed his eyes against the reluctant hope shining in the sheriff’s gaze.

With his eyes closed, Jonas said, “You can do this, Jake. Have faith.” Please, he thought again. I don’t know if you’re up there or if you’re listening but don’t punish him. Take my legs, if you want.

“Jonas,” Jake said, shifting in his grip. “Let me go.”

Jonas opened his eyes and realized that Jake was supporting his own weight. Jonas slowly released him, afraid to breathe. Jake looked at his father and stepped toward him. His knees started to buckle, and Sonny started forward, but Jonas and Jackson grabbed Jake’s arms before he could fall.

The boy straightened his legs and lifted his chin. “Let me go,” he repeated, and Jonas and Jackson exchanged a look through the wet darkness. They pulled their hands back, and Jake stepped forward, slowly. He paused, and then took another step. The grass was slick from the rain, but his footing held. He took another step, and then Sonny, unable to wait any longer, met him halfway and grabbed him in a hug, lifting his feet off the ground as he kissed his son’s neck.

Relief flooded Jonas, a relief so powerful it buckled his legs, and he sank to his knees on the ground, dropping his chin to his chest as he sent up a dozen silent words of gratitude. His eyes and throat and chest were burning. He felt a hand on his head and knew it was Sam’s. He drew a deep, shaky breath and opened his eyes. His sister was standing beside him.

Sonny was standing in front of him. Jonas’s eyes slid up to his, and he swallowed. Sonny held out a hand, and Jonas took it automatically, letting the sheriff haul him to his feet.

Jonas wanted desperately to wrap his arms around the other man, to both give and receive comfort, but he couldn’t. They were surrounded by a hundred people, all staring at Jonas, and he pulled his hand from Sonny’s wet grasp.

“I need to go,” he said. He saw Sonny’s expression tighten, and he turned away, unable to trust his own willpower.

“Jonas,” Sonny said. He grabbed Jonas’s arm, pulling him back around. “No more walking away,” he said. He slid his hand into Jonas’s dripping hair and bent forward, kissing him. There were murmurs all around them, and Jonas didn’t care. He held the front of the sheriff’s shirt to steady himself, leaning into him, desperately needing the contact. He wrapped his arms around Sonny’s waist. Sonny pulled his head back to look at him. “You have things to take care of,” he said. “All I want is your word that you’ll come back when you’re done.”

Jonas searched his face in the rain, afraid to believe. “I promise,” he finally said, and Jake clapped him on the back, laughing.

  Sonny saw the name on his phone and smiled. He muted the television and answered the phone without a word, holding it to his ear in silence.

“I want to see you,” a low voice said into his ear, and Sonny felt a shiver pass through him. “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” Sonny answered softly, still smiling. “Jake’s gone for the night. I miss you.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Jonas said.

“Promise?” Sonny asked.

“I promise,” Jonas answered. His voice was like a caress, and Sonny felt his body responding. He hadn’t seen Jonas in weeks, but Jonas would soon return to Sweetwater—and Sonny. For good. “I need to see you,” Jonas said.

“You want a picture?” Sonny asked.

“Not…yet…” Jonas answered, and he knew exactly what his voice was doing to Sonny’s body. “I want to see how much you miss me…”

“More and more by the second,” Sonny murmured, and Jonas’s soft chuckle made him close his eyes. “Do you want me to—”

“No, no,” Jonas interrupted softly. “Don’t touch…You don’t need to touch, do you, Sonny…?”

“No,” the sheriff said on a sigh.

“Are you thinking about how good it’s going to feel? To have my mouth around you again?”

Sonny groaned. “Yes,” he said, shifting his hips a bit to relieve the pressure on his growing erection.

“I hope so. For weeks I’ve been imagining how good you’re gonna taste, all that cum you’ve been storing up for me. You have been saving it for me, haven’t you, Sonny?”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t spilled any on your sheets when you wake up from dreams of my cock in your—”

“Jesus, Jonas,” Sonny breathed, interrupting him.

“Uh-oh,” Jonas answered, and Sonny could hear the amusement in his voice. “Getting too close, are you?”

“If you want me to save it for you, you’d better stop talking,” Sonny said. Jonas’s laugh tickled his ear, and Sonny added, “Plus these jeans are too tight.” He shifted again, but that made it worse, and he bit his lip in an attempt to keep back his moan.

Jonas heard the soft sound, and his voice was silky and low: “Ohhh, my poor Sonny. I’ll show mercy if you’ll do me one favor.”

“Anything,” Sonny answered.

“Will you step outside and look up at the moon?”

The sheriff pushed to his feet with a wince, glancing down at the noticeable bulge straining against his fly. He hoped no one showed up while he was outside, staring at the sky with an erection. He smiled at the image of how ridiculous he would look to anyone who happened by.

“How’s that walk feel?” Jonas murmured.

“Tight,” Sonny answered, and Jonas chuckled again. “Are you gonna be looking at the moon, Jonas?”

“I’ll be looking,” the other man answered softly.

Sonny stepped out onto the porch, and his breath caught in his chest.

Jonas was standing in the yard, bathed in moonlight, phone to his ear and smile on his lips. With his heart thudding in his chest, Sonny walked to the top of the steps and stopped, half-afraid he was dreaming.

Jonas lowered his phone and slipped it into his pocket. After a moment, he pointed a finger at the sky. Sonny turned off his phone and pocketed it as he tipped his head back to look at the moon. In his peripheral vision, he saw Jonas moving toward him, and Sonny couldn’t keep his eyes heavenward. He lowered his gaze and watched Jonas sauntering toward him.

Between the cocky smirk and the arrogant swagger, it was all Sonny could do to keep from coming in his jeans. He’d never in his life known it was possible to want someone so badly, not until meeting Jonas. He stood, his heart pounding, his stomach squirming pleasantly, his erection throbbing—stood, waiting for Jonas to return to him as promised.

Jonas paused at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him in the moonlight. “I told you I’d be here soon,” he murmured, his voice almost lost in the night.

“Are you back to stay?” Sonny asked.

“I am,” Jonas answered. He climbed the steps slowly, holding Sonny’s gaze. “If you’ll have me,” he said.

Sonny swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I think you know the answer to that,” he answered.

Smiling, Jonas asked, “You gonna invite me in, then?”

“Are you a vampire?”

Jonas smirked. “It’s not blood I’ll be sucking out of you,” he murmured, and Sonny barely suppressed a groan. “But I can’t promise I won’t bite.” He glanced downward. Sonny’s erection was obvious, even in the pale light.

Sonny shivered. “I’ll fix you dinner,” he said. “You must be starving, and tired. You can take a hot shower, change into some clean clothes, eat.”

“The only thing I want to eat—”

“Jonas,” Sonny cut in, and the other man laughed. “There’s time for that later.”

“There’s time for the other stuff later,” Jonas murmured, gently palming the front of Sonny’s jeans. He considered. “Except for the shower. Will you shower with me, Sheriff?” he asked.

“Do I have to keep my hands to myself?”

Jonas grinned. “Nope.”

With a laugh, Sonny said, “Then yes.” He took Jonas’s hand and started toward the house, pulling him along.

“Will you give me a massage?” Jonas asked.

“Until you beg,” Sonny answered with a grin.

“Never,” Jonas said, and Sonny laughed. Jonas pulled him around, suddenly, and kissed him. When Sonny made a sound of desire, Jonas drew back, smirking. He pushed Sonny toward the house, swatting him on his backside. “I’ll beg if you want me to,” he said, following Sonny into the house.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

Just Breathe - Eyes Like Kryptonite Ch. 18

I'm like 90% sure this is an AO3 prompt but for the life of me I can't find it - If you still take requests, you should do one where Kara is going through a dark patch, but Lena is there to help her through it 

So the title is from one of my favorite songs, it's by Pearl Jam and it's an excellent listen! it's a really good SuperCorp song so I doubt this is the last time I'll use it as inspiration!

Read it on AO3 - http://archiveofourown.org/works/9100903/chapters/21435221

The sound of her phone ringing startles Lena’s attention away from her novel.

She’s been trying to distract herself from the news, images of Supergirl fighting off the latest alien threat on every channel. She’s stressed enough about Kara’s wellbeing without coverage of her girlfriend in harm’s way right in front of her. She doesn’t even have to look at the caller ID to know it’s Alex,  she’s been waiting on this call all day - that call that it’s all over and that Kara is safe (or alternatively not safe, but she doesn’t let herself go there). She barely has the time to get out a breathless “Hello”, before Alex’s voice sounds over the line.

“She’s okay . . ."

Lena lets out a breath she didn’t know she forgot she was holding.

“Physically, at least. Emotionally . . . I’m not so sure."

“What happened?"

“She ran out before we could talk about it, I assumed she was headed for you."

There’s a loud thud outside the master bedroom, and Lena has no doubt it’s Kara -  a little heavier than usual, but not unheard of if she was having a particularly bad day.

“I think I hear her."

"Take care of her, Lena - and if you need anything at all . . . "

“I’ll call you, I promise. Thanks, Alex."

She marks her place in the book and sets it on the side table before rising from the couch, dragging her blanket with her. The bedroom is dark, the only light coming from bedside lamp. She can barely make out a shadow sitting out on the balcony - Kara, cape billowing in the night breeze.

Slowly, she opens the french doors and steps out into the night air - the chill biting her cheeks.

She takes a moment, just a second, really - to collect her thoughts. She feels herself drifting down from the near panicked high she’s been on all day as she sees living breathing proof that Kara is alive, that she’s okay.

 Physically, at least.

She remembers Alex’s words, and as she takes in the Superhero’s profile she can see in the creased lines of her face that something is wrong. Without a word, she lowers herself down on the outdoor couch next to Kara, draping the blanket around both their shoulders. Kara pulls her arm tighter and sags into her, the smell of gunpowder and smoke thick on her suit and hair. They sit like that for a long while- long enough that her eyesight adjusts to to the night sky, but she stays silent - waiting for Kara to break the silence. The lights from the city below glare on her glasses, and she shifts closer to Kara, the alien warmth seeping through to her bones.

Finally, Kara speaks.

“I don’t kill."

That’s all she says, and her words are wobbly, broken with a shuddered sigh that Lena feels as much as hears. Lena feels her heart clench, finds herself wondering sort of horrors Kara has witnessed today for that to be her first concern- to reiterate that she doesn't kill.

"I really wanted to though."

It's barely a whisper, and Lena has to strain to hear it, even though the night is nearly silent.

"They were after you."

Lena's blood runs cold and an involuntary shiver runs down her spine. Kara reaches for her left hand, her right still draped around the Superhero’s shoulders

"You didn't tell me Lex was behind the attacks today."

Kara's fingers tightens around hers.

"He wasn't. They just they wanted you. Because of me. . . Not Kara me, but because they know you're friends with Supergirl."

And then Lena understands why Kara is so shaken up - she had always said that if something ever happened to Lena because of her then she could never live with herself.

"It's not your fault."

Kara shakes her head, hair brushing Lena’s chin.

"It is though "

Silence falls around them once again and Lena can feel the weight of it bearing down on them. It's suffocating, the thickness of it, and Lena almost says something, anything to break the tension but she knows that there's nothing she can say to make Kara feel like it isn't her fault so she stays silent.

She moves the hand that's on Kara's shoulder to her hair, tangling her fingers in the blonde locks, dragging her nails lightly along her scalp.

"I spent the whole day convincing myself not to come back here."

Lena stills at that for a moment, breath caught in her throat, before she resumes her ministrations.

"And at the end of the day, all I wanted was to come home . . . To you." Kara turns to face her then and Lena can see the tear track on her face in the moonlight.

"Do you have any idea how much it kills me to know that the biggest danger in your life us me? And a part of me knows that I should leave, so that you can be safe, but an even bigger part of me knows that if I left you I would never be the same. . . I just don't feel like much of a hero when I can't even put your safety above my wanting to be with you."

Gently, she takes Kara’s face in her hands, and brushes her thumbs along the still damp tear tracks. “I want you to know that you are kind, you are generous, you are selfless. . . “ She tugs Kara’s face forward to place a tender kiss on her forehead and then pulls back to look into tear filled blue eyes.

“You are so beautiful. . . ” She breathes. “But that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said."

Kara’s brow immediately furrows in confusion.

“What?"

“It’s my life, and my decision. You don’t get to tell me who to love or who I can be with just because my life is in danger. I’m a Luthor, my life is always in danger."

“This isn’t-"

“Nope.” She places a gentle finger over Kara’s lips and stands up, only to lower herself into Kara’s lap, wrapping the blanket around them and burying her head in Kara’s shoulder. Strong arms envelop her, squeezing her just a little too tightly to be comfortable, but she doubts Kara even realizes she's doing it; desperation out weighing her usual self control.

“You’ll just have to get over your hero complex, because this isn’t up for discussion. I am my own person, and if I want to put myself in danger by dating a superhero then that’s my decision. If you want to break up because you don’t love me any more then we’ll talk, but otherwise you’re stuck with me, Zor-El."

She can feel Kara staring at her, but she doesn’t look up; just nuzzles her face in Kara’s neck, breathing in the scent of honeysuckle buried under the harsh bite of gunpowder.

Kara’s throat bobs and then she speaks, voice thick with emotion.

“Even though I know you’re right, I’m still uncomfortable with you being in danger."

“I’ll get Alex to teach me some self defense moves, and I’ll upgrade the security systems here and at L-Corp; but I’ll be damned if I let you break up with me just because you’re worried about my safety. I’ll run L-Corp from the DEO if I have to."

Kara huffs a reluctant laugh at that, and the sound is like music in her ears.

“Rao, you’re stubborn."

The only sound is that of the city drifting up from below, and it’s so long before either of them speak that Lena feels herself drifting off to sleep, only to be awoken when Kara lifts her up, carrying her toward the balcony doors.

“Take a bath with me?” is the whispered request, and she nods against Kara’s shoulder.

She knows this probably isn’t the last time that this will come up, certainly not the last time Kara will feel like this; but later - when the bath water has growing cool and her fingers are pruny  - Kara promises not to pull away just because she’s afraid, and Lena promises not to let her.

For now, it’s enough.