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lady-divine-writes · 3 years ago
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Kurtbastian one-shot - “Text-ual Healing” (Rated M)
Summary: A slight misunderstanding leads to a spectacular revelation. (1438 words)
Warning: implied past relationship angst with a certain curly-haired someone...
Read on AO3.
I fucking love you.
The words don't register with Kurt right away as he fumbles his phone, juggling his coffee in the same hand and adjusting the straps on his mask with the other. He'd gotten to NYADA with minutes to spare when his phone buzzed in his pocket. 
He'd lollygagged checking it because he knew it was Sebastian.
Kurt had left his boyfriend's bed, mouth, everything only a half-hour before. So, the man was texting him to gloat.
Remind Kurt why he was late to school today.
And why he was limping despite opting to bottom for the past six months. 
It had nothing to do with power and everything to do with intensity.
Duration.
Kurt glances at the words on his screen and fondly rolls his eyes.
"Oh, Sebastian. My eloquent boyfriend," he chuckles. "I fucking love... " Kurt's heart races as the words he'd scanned assemble in his brain, their meaning ticking loudly like the last ten seconds of a countdown.
Oh my God. Did Sebastian just tell him...?
Kurt swallows hard enough to hurt, but it doesn't break him from his stupor.
Why? Why would he do that? Why would he tell him he loves him for the first time like this? Through text message!? The bastard!
Though this is honestly very much on-brand for Sebastian: wait until after a night of epic sex, after he has sucked and fucked his boyfriend to the brink of insanity, let him go on his way to somewhere important, then mind-wipe him with an outrageous confession.
This way, Kurt would never forget it.
Are they at this point, though? Ignoring the ridiculousness of his timing and execution, are they at the I love you stage? 
Kurt thinks so. He has for a while, but that could be the hopeless romantic in him. The amount of time it took Kurt to go from, "This is just sex. I will never fall in love with Sebastian Smythe," to, "I can't believe I'm in love with Sebastian Smythe!" was embarrassingly short. Considering the relationship that preceded their nightly dinner dates and bed gymnastics, he was convinced his affliction would be one-sided for as long as this lasted.  
According to this message - apparently not.
Kurt should be jumping for joy, but he's terrified. He's been in love once before. It didn't turn out too well for him. That one relationship rolled him through the twelve-step program of relationship red flags: deception, gaslighting, jealousy, codependency, isolation... He doesn't believe Sebastian would do any of that to him, but is he ready to take the chance?
The clock in the lobby chirps loudly, and Kurt takes a much-needed breath. It's eight a.m. - ten minutes since Sebastian sent that text message. As Kurt stares at his reflection in his phone screen gone black, he becomes aware of several things.
One - he's late for class. He's missing a test. It's worth a quarter of his grade. 
Two - at some point, he'd dropped his coffee cup. It was mostly empty, but what was left has stained his suede Oxfords.
Well, Sebastian's suede Oxfords.
Three - he has stalled replying to Sebastian for a length of time that could be interpreted as Thank you, and not I love you, too.
And Sebastian deserves an I love you. He absolutely does.
The man has changed. He's put in the work. No longer the pernicious butthole from high school, he's matured into a man Kurt has been proud to call his.
Kurt has loved Sebastian for months now, too afraid to say the words out loud for fear they'd be the end of their relationship. The happiest, healthiest relationship he's had in a long time.
Maybe this could be a first step towards something new. Something exciting. Sebastian has already extended his hand. All that's left is for Kurt to take it.
Now seems like a good time.
Swiping his finger across the screen, Kurt brings his phone out of hibernation. He glances at Sebastian's text, gaze landing on it long enough to confirm it still exists. Kurt's heart skyrockets as he takes the plunge and types I fucking love you, too, Sebastian Smythe.
He tacks Sebastian's name on the end so that he'll know Kurt means this message for him without question.
Kurt presses send, then leans against a wall and waits. No reason to rush to class. He's too late to attend now anyway. He can beg for forgiveness later.
This is more important. 
Kurt's hands shake as he waits nervously for a reply. But Sebastian doesn't text back. He sends a voice message instead. Kurt presses play the second it pops on his screen, heart thrumming so hard it moves his entire body away from the wall with every beat. He expects a quippy response, something along the lines of: "Well, you don't have to get all mushy about it," in that boyish, shy voice Sebastian gets when the real him peeks through the cracks of that worn-out facade he wore through high school. Kurt contemplates running out the doors, jumping on the subway, and heading back to Sebastian's place for a PornHub ending to this Hallmark moment when the message starts playing and he hears: Wait... what?
The tone of Sebastian's voice, that comical confusion, makes Kurt's blood run cold. Did he not expect Kurt to say it back? Did he not think he felt that way? After six months of kisses and cuddles and movie marathons and naked confessions?
Or did he not...?
Oh dear God...
Kurt looks at Sebastian's text, double-checking that the message said what he thought it did. His racing heart slams against his ribcage then plummets to his stomach.
It doesn't say I fucking love you.
It says I love fucking you.
Kurt's world stops spinning. He knows it has because he can't breathe. He slides down the wall, landing on his butt on the cold floor.
Oh my God.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...
OH MY GOD!!
Kurt starts frantically texting. Maybe he can get Sebastian to think it's a joke. A cruel, horrible, disgusting joke, but still. A joke. Sebastian would understand a joke, right? 
RIGHT!?
Not able to keep his thoughts in order, he gets halfway through a sentence before sending it and starting a new one, each more desperate than the ones before.
Wait!
Sebastian? 
I misspoke!
I mean, I miss typed!
I didn't...
It was a...
Grrr! He can't say joke. He can't. Dammit!
He's in the middle of typing, "Please, don't hate me!" when Sebastian interrupts with another voice message. Then another. And another. 
Two short, one long. 
Kurt's heart sinks further. 
Oh, God.
Please be, "It's okay."
Forget about it.
No big deal.
Water under the bridge.
I knew you were joking.
Don't be, "It's over."
Please?
Kurt selects the first message. It's five seconds long, and it's a chuckle. Good chuckle? Bad chuckle? It isn't long enough for Kurt to tell.
Kurt selects the second message, also five seconds long. It's a pause, then a single sniff. An angry sniff? Angry at Kurt for making their relationship more than it is? Or a sad sniff? Sad because Kurt screwed up, caught too many feelings, and now what they have is over? Again, it's not long enough to tell.
Kurt's finger hovers over the play button on the third message, but he can't get himself to press it. He doesn't want to hear it. At close to thirty seconds long, this is the one. This is the message that changes everything. He feels it - deep in his heart that hasn't started up yet.
He closes his eyes and sits there, waiting for fate to take over, waiting for something to happen.
Waiting for someone from admin to see him sitting on the floor and tell him to get up and leave.
Or waiting for his arm to get tired and gravity to do its thing.
He sits there, still as stone for what feels like an hour.
The door beside him opens. A breeze spirals in, slipping underneath the hem of Kurt's jacket and sending a shiver up his spine. His finger falls. It lands on the screen. With his eyes shut, Kurt isn't sure where exactly it lands, isn't sure his phone hasn't gone to sleep. Sebastian's hoarse voice comes from the speaker, and Kurt knows his finger hit its mark. Sebastian sniffles, on the verge of tears from the sounds of it. He stutters, stumbles over a word or two, laughs out loud. Then he says:
Kurt... I fucking love you, too.
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revisionaryhistory · 4 years ago
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Three Days ~ 84
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~*~Sebastian~*~
I have loved every moment we've been in Paris. Everything we've done, everything we've seen. All of it. But nothing more than the last five minutes. This was perfect. This was us. This was how it’s supposed to work. I knew what was going on with Emma and I went around her defenses the way she does my anxiety. I told her a story (true) about me to make sure she knew it was alright to be her and I understood. At first, she looked annoyed but I saw the change. My change in tone and what I said had triggered something.
Emma licked her lips slowly, like I do when considering, then started to smile, "Thank you. I knew what I was doing, but hadn't put it all together. You're right it doesn't feel like my choice, but it is always my choice. The rest is bullshit." She leaned closer and I closed the distance to kiss her. "I love you, Bastian."
I sat back, flagging down the waiter with flutes of champagne and handing one to Emma. I waved my finger back and forth between us, "So this is two people pushing and supporting each other."
She sat back with the same smug look I was feeling, "I think so. Growing together.” We laughed for a moment. "Sorry, I was being difficult."
I shook my head, remembering my session with Celie. "Even if this is the best we get, we're going to be just fine." I took her hand and brought it to my mouth. "I love you." I kissed her hand and laid it on the table, like every other time we've sat together.
A few minutes later Jessica and Gian came off the dance floor, "Are we interrupting?"
This tells me Jessica noticed the intensity of our conversation. "Nope, have a seat." I leaned onto the table. "Dancing is so much more fun before you watch other people and hope you don't look as spastic and uncoordinated."
Jessica reached over the table, laying her hand on my forearm, "Sebastian, I promise you did look just as spastic and uncoordinated."
We shared a car back to the hotel. Emma invited them to go along on our private tour of Montmartre, which I was on board with. I ran by the concierge desk with the update before joining the other three in the elevator where Jessica and Emma had planned our day. We'd join them in their room for coffee and leave from there. Us coming to them gave them a chance to show off their daughter. I’m good with that too. I'd like to play with a little girl.
I'm not around a lot of kids. My friends aren't replicating yet. I need to go to Emma's classroom soon. She has a little herd of them that aren't sick or sad, like a lot of the charity visits I do. It's very rewarding but difficult. A group of healthy happy kids would be fun.
Emma led the way into the bedroom. "Sebastian, would you come undo my dress?"
"Yes," couldn’t have been said fast enough. I took great joy unlacing her dress. Something was exciting about pulling the long strings one by one. Watching them slide through the grommets and along my fingers. I got a nice rhythm going.
On closer look, her hair wasn't a single braid but several coming together from different directions, some tighter than others. It hung going over one shoulder. "I love your hair like this." I kissed her neck on the side her hair wasn't. "Can I take it down?"
"Whatever you prefer." She glanced over her shoulder at me. "If I say no will I be forbidden to blow you?"
"That would be self-defeating." I slid her dress off her shoulders letting it fall to the ground.
I undid her hair much slower than I had her dress. I removed the band holding the three braids together then chose the middle one. I ran my fingers through the silky strands from underneath. I buried my face in her hair enjoying the smell and softness against my skin. I pressed my hips against her so she could feel what all this unlacing had done to me. Her bare shoulder was a perfect place to rub my beard. "Do I need to go shave so you'll let me go down on you?"
Emma snorted a laugh, "No. I like the feel of your beard on my stomach."
I kissed up her neck to her ear and whispered, "Not your inner thigh?"
She turned, draping an arm over my shoulder, her other hand on my chest. "I can't remember."
"Well, I'll have to give it a try and see what you think."
~*~*~*~
The next morning, I awoke first. Blondish hair spilled from her pillow onto mine. I was all too aware tomorrow would be the last day I'd wake up like this for a long time. Historically, filming days are long and I collapse as soon as I'm back to my room. During the day I'm focused on work or relaxing with my co-workers.
Which means mornings are going to suck.
I stayed put and soaked it all in. Emma looked over as soon as she woke up. A smile was forming while she rolled toward me. I lifted my arm to welcome her, moving to my side and holding her lightly. "Morning, sunshine."
"Good morning." She kissed my chest where her head laid. "Been awake long?"
"Not so much." I snuggled in closer. "Enjoying the view. You're beautiful in the morning."
She tilted her face up to meet my eyes, "Thank you. When don't you think I'm beautiful?"
I pretended to think, "Never."
"Te iubesc, Sebasti-an." "Te iubesc, Emiliana."
We started the day as we'd ended last night, naked and slightly breathless. While catching my breath I looked over with a sigh, "It's going to be a good day."
Emma rolled to her stomach, propped on her elbows. "Thank you again for bringing me."
The last thing Emma needed to do was thank me. That said, the simple appreciation was a nice change. It's a little shocking how often those words aren't spoken. I don’t keep track. I only notice when there's a consistent lack of them.
"You're welcome again." I kissed her nose, "Shower?"
Emma gasped, "Is that an invitation?"
"Can I wash your hair?"
"Sure."
"Yes, it's an invitation."
Reality smacked me after our shower when Emma dried off her shower supplies and put them in their leak-proof bag. I felt a twisting in my stomach, which must have shown on my face. Emma pressed her towel covered body against mine, "If I pack now, we can just enjoy tomorrow."
"Was I pouting?"
She shook her head, "You looked like I feel about it."
"Somehow that helps." Our laughter was tinged with something less than humor.
Emma did a lot of things to make tomorrow morning about us. She curled her hair, so she could easily pull it up. She laid out her clothes for the plane, so she could pack the rest. And she packed all the bathroom stuff except what she'd need in the morning. It wasn't like I couldn't bring her anything she left behind.
I hope she forgets something.
I was ready before her and headed into the sitting room. I settled on the couch to get into the app she'd installed. I didn't go into “Things for Sebastian”. That's not what I needed. I created a page and titled it, "Things for Emma"
1.      I love you
2.      You are beautiful. Inside and out.
3.      I miss you
4.      I crave the touch of your fingers
5.      And your lips
6.      I need to make a page for dirty thoughts
7.      In a room full of people I can feel you near
8.      It pisses me off when you won't let me rip something off you.
9.      I appreciate how kind you are to my mom.
10.   Your dad still kinda scares me.
Ten was my goal for the morning.
Jessica and Gian were closer to ready than they lead us to believe they would be. They had a nanny for the fifteen-month-old daughter Giulietta, but they liked to handle the morning routine and breakfast. Jessica let us in and ran back to the bedroom pointing us in the direction of Gian. He was sitting at the table supervising a toddler eating berries, yoghurt, and pieces of a croissant. Giulietta immediately stopped eating and shifted her attention to us. She held out her little pudgy arm pointing at me and said, "Da!"
My eyebrows shot up, "I don't think so, but you are cute."
Gian interpreted, "Every male is a Da."
Giulietta held her arms up to me, "Up, Da."
I looked at her real Da, "This ok?"
"Yes, she's sturdy. You won’t break her."
Emma groaned, "She’s a sweet little princess."
I picked her up, holding her in front of me to talk, "Hi Giulietta. Can you say Hi, Seb?"
Gian said, "Give him a kiss."
She landed a very wet open-mouthed kiss on my cheek. "Ah, thank you." I brought her closer and kissed her cheek, without all the slobber.
Giulietta smacked her hands on either side of my face repeatedly, laughing with every sound and face I made. It became a game where I poked her and she laughed then she pulled or poked something on my face, the only place she could reach, and laughed at my response. Her giggling was precious, even more so when she got the hiccups.
Emma had sat down, Gian having poured her a cup of coffee, and Emma eating the same berries and croissant. I sat down with the baby standing and bouncing on my lap. I turned my head, opening my mouth, encouraging Emma to share her food with me. A few bites in and the little girl decided she wanted in on the action. She reached for Emma and left me.
I lost Emma too.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and talked with Gian about the tour. Cheese, wine, and bakery items while on a walking tour of Montmartre complete with museums and shopping before dropping us off at a cafe for a proper lunch. Although I’m sure Emma will continue with cheese and wine.
An overly cheery and overly expressive voice came from my left. Not talking to me, but about me. "Listen to that mean man, Giulietta. Making fun of me for my love of cheese. He's just afraid I love cheese more than him, which I do not. Or maybe he's afraid I'm going to steal all the baby kisses. She snuggled into Giulietta’s neck and started saying, "nom, nom, nom." More little girl laughter filled the air. This time ending with her wrapping her arms around Emma's head while Emma blew raspberries on her belly.
The fun ended with a recognizable sound followed by a less than pleasant smell. I backed away, Gian grimaced and apologized. Emma laughed, "What did you did, Guilietta? What did you do?" Gian started to stand, Emma shook her head, "Stay put. Where are her diapers?"
"There's a diaper bag by the couch."
I smiled at Gian, "You didn't fight that offer."
Gian snickered, "Never turn down an offer to change a diaper that smells like that."
Jessica joined us, noticing the missing people, "What have you two done?"
We both looked innocent. "Nothing."
I added, "Emma had her when the problem occurred."
Jessica teasingly pulled her husband’s ear, "You dumped our shitty baby on a new friend."
From the other room, Emma called out, "The best conversations happen during diaper changes." Emma came back into the room, holding her hands above her head, helping balance her as she tried to walk. "Who is that Giulietta?"
"Mama mama."
Jessica glowed looking at her daughter, "That's my baby girl."
She picked her up and hugged her, "You've been flirting with a boy then made him jealous by leaving him for another."
I snorted, "Not jealous of the diaper explosion."
"Baby wipes clean up everything." Emma looked at Jessica, "Can I use your bathroom?"
Jessica pointed. Emma left the door open while she washed her hands and she and Jessica kept talking, "You did that fast. You have younger siblings."
"Two little sisters and a niece. Olivia was out of diapers before I got there. We took turns with Harper." She joined us back at the table, "My sister had a tough delivery ending in an emergency C- section. I took care of Katie for the first couple of weeks. It’s crazy how formula goes in and toxic waste comes out."
"Fun fact." I raised a finger, "I've never changed a diaper."
"When we're old you can change mine."
I made a face, "I've got you by eight years. I think you'll be first with that duty."
Gian looked at us then his wife, "This has gone in a weird direction."
I snorted, "Usually does." This weird direction was courtesy of neither of us going near the baby thing. We’d discussed not discussing it.
Jessica handed the baby to the nanny and we headed to Montmartre. Our guide, Elodie, met us at the foot of the hill. Oh fuck, the way she looked at me. She not only knew who I was, she liked it.
Elodie was a good tour guide. She knew the history of the area, fast-tracked us through museums, and pointed out interesting shops. We stopped at several local eateries for a glass of wine or bite to eat then on to the next place. Emma enjoyed the cheese most, Jessica the macaroons, and Sian and I the wine. I held Emma's hand as we walked. Elodie would stop and turn to talk. And flirt. At one of our shopping stops Emma and Jessica came back from the bathroom right as Elodie laughed and put her hand on my arm. Both women looked at me and rolled their eyes. On our way to the next stop Emma leaned closer, "She flirts with you with me standing right here."
I nodded, "I noticed." She wasn't acting upset, but I thought it best to ask. "Are you pissed?"
She screwed up her face, "No. Do you think if you flirted back a little I could get some extra cheese? Maybe an off the tour place that can’t pay to be included?"
Jessica leaned over. "We'd appreciate wine."
I looked at them in turn, "You're trading me for cheese and wine?"
"They have really good cheese here."
Jessica just nodded.
Next shop when Elodie found her way to me for a little more flirting, I put my hand on hers that was on my arm and asked about any place off the beaten path that we shouldn't miss.
Elodie smiled, "We're contracted for certain establishments."
"I know, but you've seen what we like. Maybe a smaller place that’s delicious, but can’t afford to be on a tour." I leaned closer and whispered, "I'd appreciate it."
"I’ll try to think of a place."
"Thank you." I kissed her cheek, patted her hand, and walked to Emma. Smiling.
Emma pursed her lips try to look disapproving but started smiling. "That wasn't you’re A-game, but it's going to work."
"Cheese isn't worthy of my A-game."
Her smile turned a little evil, "What’s worthy of your A-game?"
"Separating you from your panties." I took her hand and led her outside.
Fifteen minutes later we were at a small store you wouldn’t find if you didn’t know it was there. All of us were happy. Jessica and Gian bought three bottles of wine. Emma nearly had an orgasm over a cheese, which made me happy. Elodie was happy when she said goodbye to us outside the cafe and I took a picture hugging her.
There'd been a lot of walking between cheese and wine stops. By design, we were supposed to be a little high as we shopped and still hungry at the cafe. We were. It was a fun meal with lots of laughter. Jessica had no lack of stories from filming and press for “The Martian”.
I only thought how Emma wouldn't be here for lunch tomorrow about a dozen times.
Our tour didn't include Sacré-Cœur. It was easy enough without a guide. We headed that direction after lunch. The street we walked down led past a small square with a big wall covered in words.
Jessica pointed, “The I Love You wall." She went in that direction. "I think there's over a hundred languages. You two need to find Romanian."
There wasn't a crowd of people. It was a polite tourist spot with people taking it in turns to take pictures near their language. We stood back and I quickly found the words. Jessica had found the Italian version. We traded phones for pictures. Romantic, coupley, tourist bullshit pictures. It was great.
The view of the city from Sacré-Cœur was beautiful. A little down from the crowd we sat on a wall overlooking the city. Gian and Jessica decided it was time for them to head back. We were going to walk amongst the artists. Emma got up to hug them goodbye then climbed back on the wall with me. The quiet moment enjoying the view was interrupted by my text notification. I was going to ignore it, but something told me to check. I nudged Emma to show her the picture Jessica had sent. They'd paused as they left to take a picture of us on the wall. My arm was around Emma's waist, her head was on my shoulder, and I was kissing her head. "I fucking love this."
"Me too." She kissed me. "This is what I want to post. Will you ask Jessica if it's ok?"
"Sure." I forwarded the picture to Emma before texting Jessica. She didn’t care.
I sat there watching Emma type out the caption, but still went to the app when my notification went off. She'd framed where we were on the bottom right and the Eiffel Tower was top left. It was a very sweet picture. I wanted to post it too, but if I did we’d have to evacuate the area. I wasn’t ready to leave.
Emma captioned it, "Beautiful view with my love."
I tapped the little red heart and commented, "Paris is for lovers."
Almost quicker than me Amy had commented, "You're in Paris? When will you be back?"
She responded, "Tomorrow night. 🙁”
I pulled her into a tight hug, "I'm proud of you."
She looked like I felt when she said the same thing to me. "This feels better. You were right."
I tangled our fingers, "I know you pretty well."
We kissed again and she whispered, "I love you, Bastian."
I put my hand on her face, "I love you, beautiful girl."
Emma found a watercolor of a window at Mont Saint Michel with purple flowers. I was told they were Wisteria. She negotiated the price, somehow paying more than he'd asked, telling him the extra was for the feelings it evoked. He rolled it into a thick cardboard tube that would travel well. He suggested unrolling it at the hotel until we were ready to travel.
Sunset was nearing. Our last in Paris. I'd researched this and knew the winding road to head down. The sunset against the buildings would open to a bigger view over the city. The area was crowded. I led her to a building to lean against. In the afterglow I picked up her hand, kissing it, "Do you want to play a game?"
Her eyes lit up, "A game. On our last night?"
"It will be perfect."
"What kind of game do you have in mind?"
"You seem tense. Like you could use a good massage." I shook my head, "Well, a mediocre massage but a happy ending."
I wasn’t sure if she was giving me the I love you smile or something dirty. Either worked. "Sounds fun."
I nodded, "Do you want me or a new massage therapist?"
"Neither. I want you, but neutral. Well placed kissed are good."
I nodded, "I got it."
"We're not sleeping tonight, are we?"
"Probably not."
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lost-n-stereo · 5 years ago
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A/N: Just a quick little prompt fill for @livinginrhythm to get me back in the writing mood. Prompt post linked at the end :) Harry/Allie - Established Relationship Canon Divergent
all filled up with whiskey apologies
It’s almost nine by the time she pulls up to the bar, her half size too small heels already killing her feet even though she slipped them on just before leaving her apartment. She swears out loud when she notices a dime sized pasta stain on the left leg of her ripped jeans and wonders, not for the first time, if she can just bow out of this entire fucking night. 
At least three people shout her name when she walks into the dimly lit hole in the wall that Becca assured her served the “best fucking tequila sunrises this side of Hartford”. It’s not that she doesn’t like Becca, she does even though she doesn’t spend very much time with her, it’s the other people that are supposed to be here tonight that she frankly can’t stand. People they went to high school with that Allie would have sooner never seen again, except maybe at their ten year high school reunion that’s still another lifetime (or roughly six years) away. 
She pulls out her phone to call Harry to find out where the hell he is, he’s never usually as late to events as she is, when she sees a text message that must have come through when she was driving here. 
Babe, I’m not going to make it tonight. Clemens is on my ass about the Peterson case so I need to stay late. Love you, don’t kill Lexie. 
“Son of a bitch,” she mutters as she types in a response with enough swear words to make a sailor blush. Harry being here was the only thing that was going to get her through the nightmare this night is going to be and now she has to deal with it alone. She considers leaving, briefly wonders if any of these people would believe her if she made up a lame excuse about being sick, and decides to suck it up and get the night over with. Hell, she was late anyways, which means it’s an hour or two closer to getting out of here than if she’d shown up on time.
“Hey!!” A tiny ball of brown hair and Victoria Secret perfume hits her all at once in a tight hug as Becca flings herself in Allie’s direction. “I can’t believe you came! We invite you all the time!” 
Every sentence is loud, punctuated by the distinct aroma of orange juice and Don Julio, and Allie holds her friend at arm’s length so she can look in her eyes. Sure enough they are dull and glassy, the telltale sign that Becca is this side of too drunk. Allie wonders who’s watching the baby tonight but decides, not her circus and not her monkeys, and flags down a bartender to make her a drink.
Lexie is standing off to the corner talking to Campbell, her beady little eyes darting over to Allie every few minutes. They hated each other in high school and while it seems like it was a lifetime ago in reality it was only a few short years. Lexie was always jealous of her relationship with Harry, a side effect of dating the most notorious boy in school, but Allie has never been one to back down from a fight. Allie shoots her a smirk and pulls out her phone, typing out a text to Harry just because Lexie is watching. 
Your ex is giving me the stink eye again. This bitch is obsessed with me.
Harry sends back a series of laughing emojis, tells her to play nice and to take a shot of Macallan for him and then send him the total of the tab at the end of the night so he can pay it for her over the phone. It’s not that she dates him for his money but well, it doesn’t hurt when she can take shots that cost more than her monthly cell phone bill for free. It’s not like he wouldn’t be paying for her way if he was here. 
You suck for not being here. She texts him and he responds back with a I know, baby. I’ll make it up to you later. And really, how can she be mad at that?
Actually fuck that, she can be mad at him because this whole dumb thing was his idea in the first place. They never go out with this particular group of people, save for Becca, Griz and Sam. She hasn’t seen Helena or Luke, which isn’t a surprise since they are very much like Allie and Harry in that they’d much rather stay at home and do nothing than hang out in a bar with people they talked shit about in high school. 
“How you been, Al?�� Griz asks as she slides into a booth in the back of the bar next to Sam. He smiles and kisses her cheek, which is sweet so she bumps her shoulder into his and throws him a genuine grin. 
“I’ve been alright,” she says as she sips her drink. Becca was right about one thing, the cocktails are amazing and that shot of whiskey hit her just enough to make her a little light headed. Journey is playing on the outdated sound system but you don’t need state of the art speakers to sing along to “Any Way You Want It”. 
“Where’s Harry?” Becca asks, her words slightly slurred as she rests her head on Griz’s shoulder. “You two are usually attached at the hip.” 
Allie rolls her eyes. “He’s interning this summer at a law firm in Bridgeport and they keep him busy. He had to work late tonight but he sends his best.”
It’s bullshit, he never said anything of the sort, but they are all adults now and it just felt like the adult thing to say. It’s not strange to her to be in such a serious relationship at their age. They started dating in their junior year and stayed together all the way until now, when they are almost ready to graduate. They don’t live together yet, Harry keeps an apartment in the city since he works there more often than not, but he does spend as many nights at her place as he can. 
Conversation and drinks flow for the next couple of hours and it’s actually not entirely terrible over here in their little corner. The people she hates, like Lexie and Campbell, stick close to the bar and the people she doesn’t know very well, like Campbell’s girlfriend Elle, don’t bother coming over to them at all.  It’s not until Will starts to wander over that things get sufficiently awkward, mostly because her and Will used to date and it didn’t really end well. Like, at all. 
Shit, ex alert. She types out to Harry. She’s been running down the entire night for him so far, mostly because she knows he’s busy and it feels just a little like payback for making her do this without him.
Yours or mine? 
Mine. You should seriously be here to run interference. I hate you, Harry Bingham. I . Hate. You. 
Her cheeks heat when he sends back Not what you were saying last night when your legs were over my shoulders but okay. 
“What’s that look for?” Grizz asks, pointing to her flushed skin and Allie rolls her eyes and signals the bartender for another round of shots. 
“Nothing, mind your business.” 
Will makes it to their table and she groans internally, wishing that she could be anywhere else. Their relationship in high school was full of drama, mostly from Will’s obsession with Kelly, who he dated immediately after breaking up with her. Kelly graduated and went off to California for  medical school, leaving Will behind, and she can’t lie and say it doesn’t bring her just a little joy that he ended up alone. 
“Hey guys,” he says, setting his bottle of beer on the table next to Allie’s drink. She yanks hers away childishly and Becca snorts. “Hey Allie, how’ve you been?” 
“Great,” she says, so cheerfully that it probably sounds like she’s lying even though it’s the truth. It takes another ten minutes of awkward small talk before he finally tells them that he’s taking off of the night and that he’ll see them at the next get together. 
Not if she can fucking help it. She’ll never do this shit again, with or without Harry. 
She gets a text from Harry around eleven that just says I miss you and she hates that it makes her tear up a little. As much as she wants to be mad at him for ditching her she does understand that what he’s doing is infinitely more important than drinks with their friends. Instead of telling him that she misses him too she says something a little dirty that she’s sure made him groan out loud before taking another shot. 
By the time last call comes around she’s definitely too drunk to drive home. 
It pisses her off that she let herself drink this much, because the whole reason she even brought her own car was because she didn’t plan on staying long. She’s got two options, either Uber home tonight and back in the morning or call Harry to come and get her. 
He picks up on the first ring and she can tell he’s home but hasn’t gotten into bed yet. 
“I need you to come here,” she says, her voice thick with tiredness and whiskey, and he chuckles. 
“You need me, huh?” 
Her groan makes him laugh harder. “Don’t be a dick, Bingham. I’m only in this position because you left me high and dry.” 
“I think we can both agree, sweetheart, that I have never once left you dry.” 
Her pulse races at his words but she’s still pissed, and drunk, and now turned on because of this asshole and all she wants to do is go home. 
“Will you please Uber to the bar and drive me home in my car?” 
Her voice must sound pathetic enough because he tells her to sit tight and that he’ll be there in twenty minutes. 
Everyone but Becca has left by the time he gets dropped off in front of the bar. He gives Becca a hug, drops a kiss to her forehead and asks if she needs a ride too. 
“My Uber will be here in a few minutes,” she says and they wait with her until she’s safely in a car (with a female driver, Allie checked), and on her way home. 
“You’re a mess,” Harry laughs as he looks her over and she smacks his hand away when he moves a curl that’s fallen in her face. 
“You bailed on me tonight,” she says seriously. “And you made me cry!” 
He looks taken aback and his eyes narrow. “What? When?”
“Your stupid ‘I miss you’ text,” she says, her fingers coming up to do sloppy quotation marks in the air. “I was crying, you made me cry!” 
He laughs. “Baby.” 
“No! You don’t get to use pet names with me right now. I’m mad at you.” 
“No, I’m calling you a baby. I’m making fun of you. We both know you were tearing up because you fucking missed me too.” 
He pulls her into a hug and she huffs before letting herself melt into his arms. “I’m still mad at you,” she says and he kisses her hair, then her cheek, and then her mouth. 
“I told you I’d make it up to you. I’m a man of my word.” 
She pulls back and looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Think so, huh?” 
“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’ as he takes her by the hand and leads her towards her car. “Drunk sex is amazing, remember?” 
There was a spring break in Cabo that she remembers quite well, too many margaritas and an experience on the beach that almost got them arrested. 
“I suppose I’ll let you try to make it up to me,” she says when he gets behind the wheel and starts her car. He just shoots her a smirk that’s too fucking sexy for how annoyed she is at him.
He drives with one hand on the wheel and one hand on her knee the entire ride home and she notices that his thumb rests on the pasta stain, covering it completely. It feels weirdly full circle but she’s drunk and it probably wouldn’t make much sense if she tried to say it out loud. 
“What are you thinking about over there, boozy?” He asks and she giggles, puts her feelt up on the dashboard (the first thing she did was take off those fucking shoes), and rolls her window down as far as it’ll go for some fresh air. 
“Pasta,” is her only response and he gives her a look like she’s crazy but that’s why he loves her. 
“We can stop and get food if you want, but I’m not sure anywhere serves pasta at three am.” 
And just like that, she’s not mad at him anymore.
prompt: https://bumblingbookworm.tumblr.com/post/616309885231120384
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reeciespieces88 · 5 years ago
Text
Fortune Found
*Note: This is a cleaned up version of this story so Tumblr doesn’t flag it and just in case people would rather read a PG-13 story. If you are interested, the full version can be found here*
A crisp breeze blew through the quiet streets of Inaba's shopping district, sending a cold chill through the open door of Tatsumi Textiles. Kanji was setting up his new batch of knitted dolls in the shop's window and he shivered as the cold cut through his thin, long sleeved shirt. A few months had passed since the events at the LMB Festival and things had been quiet in his little town. It was quieter than he would have liked however; he hadn't heard from Naoto in that time either. He knew she was busy and he knew she would reach out to him in her own time, but that didn't stop him from worrying more with each passing day. Kanji wondered if he had made the right choice, asking Naoto for some “alone time”. She had agreed to it at the time, but maybe the weeks away caused her to change her mind? Kanji shook the thought from his mind.
'She's just busy,' he told himself. 'She's just dealing with that...apathy thing. She's saving people, like we always do.' Kanji jumped as his phone buzzed loudly, pulling him out of his head. He looked at his phone; it was a text message...from Naoto.
HELLO. ARE YOU AVAILABLE?
Kanji's hands shook as he quickly typed out a response.
Yes! I'm at the shop, if you want to stop by.
She didn't answer, but after a few minutes there was a soft knock at the door. Kanji turned around to see Naoto standing in the doorway.
“O-oh! N-Naoto!” Kanji exclaimed.
“I'm sorry, did I startle you?” Naoto asked, walking into the shop. “I was pretty close to the shopping district when I texted, so...”
“N-no! It's totally fine!” Kanji told her, smiling wide. “I'm just...I'm so happy to see you.”
“O-oh! That's good.” Naoto blushed, looking down at her feet. She noticed the pile of dolls sitting in the window. “Are you working? I can come back another time...”
“No! I'm pretty much done, just give me a sec...” Kanji put the last of the dolls on display and then ran back to find his mom to tell her he was going out. When he returned, Naoto was looking at one of his dolls with interest. Kanji smiled, proud of making something that could put such a cute look on her face.
“Do you want one?” Kanji asked, causing her to jump a little.
“No, I was just admiring them.” Naoto replied, setting it back down. “You are quite good at this sort of thing. I'm not sure if I've ever told you that before.”
“Y-yeah? Thanks.” Kanji said, running his hand through his hair. He was nervous, even though he had no reason to be. He had gone over this day in his head a million times, but now it was suddenly here and he had no idea what to do.
“So...?” Naoto said after a long moment of silence.
“O-oh! R-right!” Kanji stammered, embarrassed. “A-are you hungry? We could go over to Aiya.”
“That sounds great.” Naoto replied with a grin. They began walking up the street.
“So...how have you been?” Kanji asked.
“I have been well,” she told him. “I wrapped up as many of the loose ends in the apathy case as I could, but you can imagine that, with the strangeness of the truth in the case, I couldn't explain everything. But the police were happy with it and it helped that nobody died this time.”
“That's always a good thing. Does that mean you'll be home for a while?”
“Yes. I will be taking a break for a while to catch up on my studies. And, more importantly, to spend time with you and all of our friends.” Kanji nearly danced with joy. Naoto was not only staying in Inaba indefinitely, but she was staying to spend time with him. And their friends of course, but he chose to ignore that part for now.
“That's awesome! I can't wait to see ya at school again!”
“How about you?” Naoto asked. “How have you been?”
“I've been OK. Going to school, helping Ma at the shop, and I've even been learnin' how to dye. I still suck at it, but I'm not as bad as when I started.”
“That's good. Speaking of dye, your hair seems to have grown back in nicely since LMB.”
“Yeah, but Yosuke-senpai had a whole new set of jokes waiting for me during those first couple of weeks...” They walked into the restaurant and found a table. Their schoolmate, Aika, wasn't there, which Kanji was secretly happy for. He didn't think she would have bothered them, but this meant there wasn't even the opportunity. They had just ordered and were settling into a nice conversation when someone rushed into the restaurant and squeed.
“I knew it!”
Kanji's heart dropped. He knew that voice all too well. Looking towards the entrance he saw their good friend Rise, who was making a beeline for their table.
“I knew I saw you guys walk by! Naoto!” Rise hugged her from behind, nearly knocking the chair over. “Why didn't you tell anyone that you were in town!? Or, should I say, anyone else? Wait a minute,” Rise stopped suddenly and her eyes went wide. “Are you guys on a –”
“What!?” they said in unison. Kanji's face got hot and Naoto stared at the table. He didn't know what to say. He wanted it to be a date, more than anything. But he had never actually asked her out on one. Luckily Naoto spoke before he needed to figure it out, but her response couldn't have been worse.
“C-can't I just enjoy a dinner alone with my friend?” Friend. There they were: her true feelings. Kanji felt stupid for thinking that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way he did. Why in the world would a girl like her fall for a guy like him? But Kanji buried those feelings for now.
“Y-yeah.” Kanji said, trying to feign agreement, an act he was sure he had failed. “She just happened to stop by and was hungry. That's all.”
“Oooook, if you say so...” Rise sounded skeptical, but thankfully she dropped the subject. “Well, I was on my way somewhere, so I'll leave you two be. But you better call me later and set up a gathering with the team!”
“Of course.” Naoto replied and they waved as she left. Once they were alone again, the conversation dried up almost completely. They sat in awkward silence as they ate; Kanji didn't feel much like talking. He would recover eventually, but for now he wanted to finish up this meal as fast as possible. He paid for their meals quickly and dashed out the door, Naoto trailing behind.
“It's still early.” she told him. “Was there anything else you wanted to do?”
“No, I think I'll just head home.” Kanji replied curtly. “I have...stuff. I-I'll see ya later, OK?”
“Oh. OK.” Naoto was taken aback by his response, but she allowed him to leave without question. She had an idea what had caused his sudden change in mood. What she didn't know was how she was going to repair it. Naoto started her walk home with a lot of things to think about.
Naoto walked slowly through the shopping district, her mind racing. She found herself in a bit of a conundrum. She felt somewhat guilty about what she had said to Rise the other day. From the moment she had insisted that they weren't on a date and that they were “just friends”, Naoto saw Kanji's face drop. But she had told Rise the truth, hadn't she? She and Kanji were just friends, or at least she thought they were. She wasn't so sure anymore. She had been thinking about him more and more ever since the LMB Festival, and him asking to spend time with her alone sure sounded like a date, even though he never called it one. She wasn't sure what any of these feelings meant or what to do about them, and the fact that Kanji was probably just as lost as she was wouldn't help matters any. But no matter what she decided to do, one thing was for certain: she needed to patch things up with Kanji before she lost the chance to make a choice in the first place.
As she headed up to Tatsumi Textiles, an advertisement on the job board caught her eye. It was an announcement about an event happening a few towns over that coming Sunday. Naoto smiled to herself; this was perfect. She took a moment to jot down the information in her notebook before continuing up the street. When she came to the shop, she peaked in cautiously. Kanji was no where to be seen, but his mother sat behind the counter. She smiled sweetly at Naoto as she stepped fully into the shop.
“Hello Naoto dear. Are you here for Kanji?”
“Yes ma'am.” Naoto replied. “He's not expecting me, so it's OK if he's not here...”
“No, no, he's here. He's just in his room working on something, you know how he is. You can go back if you want.”
“Thank you.” Naoto walked behind the shop into Kanji's living area. She navigated the hallway till she came to his open door. His back was to her and he had a pile of multicolored yarn on his lap. Naoto knocked softly on the door frame and he turned. He had some knitting needles in his hands and the pile in his lap seemed to be a blanket.
“O-oh! Naoto!W-what are you doing here?” Kanji said, clearly surprised.
“I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?”
“N-no! O-of course not! I just wasn't expecting to see you.” He gave her a warm smile. Naoto relaxed a little; it seemed as if she hadn't done too much damage. Kanji had always been a resilient one.
“I'm here because, well...b-because I wanted to know if you had any plans this Sunday.”
“Sunday?” Kanji considered for a moment. “N-no, I think I'm free.”
“Good! And you have a scooter now, right?”
“Yeah, got it a few months ago.”
“OK, then I'll see you Sunday.” Naoto turned to leave.
“Naoto, wait!” Kanji stood up to follow her, but he got caught up in the blanket on his lap and he fell over into a heap of yarn on the floor.
“Are you OK?” Naoto turned back into the room.
“Yeah, I'm fine.” Kanji replied, picking himself back up. His face was bright red. “I just wanted to know where are we going on Sunday.”
“I think I will keep that a surprise.” Naoto replied. “You'll just have to trust me, OK?”
“O-oh! O-of course!” Kanji told her, shocked by the request. Naoto waved and left him to clean up the mess he had made. After bidding his mother a farewell, Naoto returned home to start preparations for Sunday.
Kanji was grateful for the warm day as he zoomed along on his scooter, following Naoto. He still had no idea where she was leading him, and he had never been the way they were headed before, but he trusted her enough not to question it. He was more than content with just being able to spend time with her, no matter where they ended up. Eventually they came to a little town and parked their scooters in front of a large building with a sign that read “Craft and Arts Show” in big read letters. Kanji couldn't hide his happiness as they removed their helmets.
“I've heard about this show, I just never wanted to ride out here by myself.” Kanji told her. “I can't believe this is where you wanted to take me!”
“I knew it would be somewhere you would like to go when I saw the flier.” Naoto explained as they walked to the front doors. “I thought this would be a nice event for us to visit together.”
“Well alright!” Kanji said with his normal enthusiasm. He opened the door for her and they journeyed inside. The two buzzed around the fair, stopping at every single stall. Kanji touched everything; he admired every piece of artwork, swapped ideas with other knitters, and he even picked up a few new patterns to try out in the future. There were also quite a few stalls that piqued Naoto's interest as well, offering crafts based on tech or clockwork pieces. After a few hours, they stopped at small concession stand for some ice cream and sat at one of the provided tables.
“Thanks for inviting me out here today,” Kanji said. “I just hope you're having as much fun as I am.”
“I am, so don't worry.” Naoto replied with a reassuring smile. “You might not think so, but I do enjoy spending time with you.” Not knowing what to say after that, the conversation fell into silence. But it was a comfortable silence; Kanji was happy to be there. It took some effort not to stare at her as they ate.
“Kanji?” Naoto said after a while. “I need to...I need to tell you something.”
“O-oh?” Kanji's comfortable feeling was immediately ruined. “W-what is it?”
“I had a...motive for inviting you out here today. I wanted to do it as an apology for the other day. I don't believe my reaction to Rise was very fair to you. But, at the same time, I don't know of her deduction was entirely correct either. Do you really think we are at the point where we are able to admit that we are 'dating'?”
“W-well, um...” Kanji didn't know how to answer her. As much as he wanted to tell the world that they were dating, he knew they weren't anywhere near that point yet. Kanji sighed and shook his head.
“There is one thing I do know, however.” Naoto continued. “I hope you will accept my offer to spend more time together and see where that goes. No promises that it will go anywhere, but we would be together, which would be the whole point correct?” Kanji considered her proposal for a moment.
“So, we're not dating, but we're still going to hang out together?” Naoto nodded. “Sounds like a good plan to me!” Naoto smiled, seeming relieved. Kanji smiled back, happy that they had finally come to a solid decision about where they stood. And he was happy with any solution that meant more time with Naoto. “Come on, it'll be dark soon. We should hit up any stalls we want to see again before we have to go.” They finished up their ice cream and headed back into the fair, both excited about the start of the next stage in their relationship.
A few weeks passed and things were going as smooth as they could be. Kanji and Naoto hadn't brought up their relationship since the day at the craft show, but there hadn't been a need to. In between class and hanging out with the I.T. members that were still in Inaba, they made sure to find time to see each other alone. More often than not they just studied together at one of their houses, but it was better than nothing. They were slowly opening up to each other, talking about their families and childhoods. Soon, they knew more about each other than anyone else among their friends. They found themselves in a comfortable routine that they were both happy with. One Saturday afternoon, they had the rare opportunity to spend time alone at Junes. Both Yosuke-senpai and Teddie were off of work and doing other things, Yukiko-senpai was working at the Inn, Chie-senpai was too busy studying to be out and about, and Rise was once again out of town for work. There was very little chance that they would be interrupted as they searched for a table on the crowded roof of Junes.
“Over there!” Kanji exclaimed, spying a free table over the heads of the people gathered around. The two made a beeline for it before it could be snatched up. “Turns out my height is good for something! You hold the table and I'll go get us some beefsteaks. Sound good?”
“Yes, thank you.” Naoto replied, taking a seat. Kanji nodded and disappeared into the crowd. Naoto watched the people as they milled about, deep in their own conversations. She found herself spacing out, mind wondering, not landing on any specific thoughts. Naoto was snapped back into reality suddenly by someone sitting at her table that wasn't Kanji. He was a boy about her age and wearing a different school uniform. But, in spite of that and with her wearing her usual male version of the Yasogami uniform, he still somehow knew she was a girl because he immediately started to hit on her.
“Hey, what's a cute girl like you doing sitting all alone?” he asked, his voice dripping with sleaze. Naoto groaned.
“I am allowed to sit in whatever company I wish to and in yours is not one of them.”
“Aw, come on!” the boy pouted. “Let me buy you lunch, I'll show you a good time.” He was being uncomfortably aggressive, but it wasn't anything Naoto couldn't handle. That didn't mean she liked it much, however.
“Thank you for your...kind offer, but I am not as alone as you seem to think I am.” Naoto explained calmly. “I am actually here with someone and he is already purchasing us some food.”
“Well, I think you should ditch that loser and come with me!” His voice was almost angry, which was starting to make Naoto mad herself. This boy, whom hadn't even shared his name yet, had no right to speak to her that way, nor did he have any right to speak about Kanji that way. Just as she was about to say as much, a long shadow fell over the table as someone walked up to it.
“Hey, buddy, whatcha think you're doing!?” Kanji growled, setting their food down on the table. Naoto smiled; even though he had softened his image over the last year, Kanji could still be an imposing presence when he wanted to be.
“This nerd? This is who you're with?” the boy said mockingly.
“Ya, what of it?” Kanji glared down at him before picking the boy up by the collar and lifting him out of the seat. “Git yer ass out of my seat and go home!”
“Hey, HEY! Put me down!” the boy whined until his feet were on the ground and Kanji let him go. “You are going to regret that, you bitch!” He ran off.
“Eh, get bent!” Kanji called after him and then turned to Naoto. “You OK?”
“Yeah, I've dealt with tougher suspects.” Naoto replied smugly. “But I won't say that I wasn't glad you came and saved me some of the headache of dealing with him myself.”
“Not a problem.” Kanji smiled, proud. “OK, let's chow down!”
“Right!” They started eating, nearly forgetting the incident ever happened. Kanji and Naoto found themselves deep in conversation, causing them to stay at Junes until the shop closed up for the evening. With the sun already set but neither wanting the conversation to end, the two headed out towards Kanji's for some tea. Along the way, they found themselves on a dark, empty road. It was a road they had both traveled plenty of times, but not often in the dark so they stood a little closer together than they normally would. Kanji suppressed the urge to throw his arm over Naoto; he wasn't so sure how she would take it. Suddenly, Naoto stopped walking.
“Hmm?” Kanji stopped and looked at her.
“Shh. Do you hear something?” They looked around, straining their eyes against the dark. “Someone's there...” Out of the dark came a figure and Kanji took up a more defensive stance, putting himself as far between Naoto and the figure as he could without offending her; he knew full well she could take care of herself but that wasn't going to stop him from protecting her. Naoto gasped as the figure became clearer.
“You!” she exclaimed, recognizing the boy from Junes earlier today.
“What the hell do you want!” Kanji demanded.
“Hey, you watch yer mouth!” he threatened. “I told you that you were going to regret blowing me off!” Sounds of footsteps rang out around them. Looking around, Naoto counted at least six boys, all wearing matching school uniforms as the first one. They started to form a tight circle, blocking any possible escape route. A one of the members even held a baseball bat. The gang was clearly looking for a fight.
“Naoto?” Kanji said, noticing her stern look. “Ya know I'm always down for a rumble, but I've been tryin'...” Naoto shook her head.
“No, I believe this is one time where you have no choice.” she told him. “Sometimes, you just have to fight.”
“Well, if you insist...” Kanji replied, giving her an evil grin. He really had been trying to stay out of fights, but Naoto knew that fire still burned in his belly. “This is your last chance to walk away, you don't know who yer messing with.”
“Yo, Seiichi, this is the guy you had trouble with?” one of the punks said to the first boy.
“Hey, we were at Junes, I'm not stupid!” Seiichi replied. “He's gonna get his ass beat now, though!” A murmur ran through the group and they slowly began to move closer.
“Bad choice.” Kanji moved suddenly, taking the nearest thug off guard with a strong punch to his jaw, dropping him immediately. Naoto followed his lead, sweeping the leg of another, sending him to the ground and giving him a swift kick to the ribs. The gang quickly got over their initial surprise and one of them grappled Naoto from behind. They were underestimating her due to her small stature, but what they didn't know was that she was very good at using her attacker's strength against them. Thinking quickly, she threw her head back and bashed her assailant in the nose. As soon as he released her, she turned and kneed him in the stomach. The punk doubled over and fell to the ground, and Naoto prepared for the next attacker.
The thugs were far more reluctant to attack Kanji after his first punch. He couldn't help but smile; he had missed the rush of a good brawl. He eyed one of punks, yelling loudly as he shoulder charged him into the building behind him. The boy slumped to the ground and Kanji turned towards the  next hooligan; it was Seiichi, who had hit on Naoto and started everything. He decided to mess with him a bit before he pummeled him.
The last delinquent who stood against Naoto held a bat in his hand, which he was dropping in and out of his other hand menacingly. She was waiting for an opening when he suddenly charged at her. Naoto dodged out of the way, but she was barely too slow and took a hit to the back that sent her sprawling. She was sure he was about to strike again, so she was starting to brace herself when she heard a loud thud from Kanji's direction. She looked up to see him walking away from a thug on the ground and towards Seiichi. Unfortunately, so did the punk with the bat.
“Ah, thanks for the workout. It's been a little while since I've been able to beat the crap out of little shits like you.” Kanji told him, cracking his knuckles. Seiichi stood strong, but his eyes betrayed him. “Standing your ground, huh? Way to be a man! A stupid man, but still a man.” Kanji brought his fist back, ready to strike.
“Kanji! Look out!” Naoto called. Kanji turned to see a delinquent with a bat coming at him. He swung at him, but Kanji caught it and pulled the bat from his hand, booting him to the ground. With bat in hand, Kanji turned to the last boy standing. But it was clear that this fight was over; Seiichi had run over to his friend by the wall and was pulling him off the ground clumsily. The gang members who were still conscious were running down the street.
“Yeah, that's what you get!” Kanji yelled after them, dropping the bat. He turned to see Naoto on the ground and his spirits dropped. He rushed over to her. “Naoto! Are you OK? Are you hurt!?”
“No, no, I'm fine. Really.” Naoto replied.
“Thanks for the call out there.”
“Of course, I wasn't about to let him bash you over the head with a baseball bat.” Naoto rolled over onto her back. “That was my first real brawl. I feel like I've finally been initiated into Club Kanji.” Kanji chuckled.
“Well, I could have let you in a lot sooner if you woulda just asked.” Kanji reached out his hand to her. “Come on, let's get back to my house before someone finds us here and starts asking questions.” Naoto took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. But Kanji pulled a little too hard and she fell into him. Kanji's heart immediately jumped up into his throat and time seemed to slow down. Naoto didn't back away, instead she looked up at him with flushed cheeks. They stood there, holding each other, for a long moment as they both tried to remember to breathe. Suddenly, Kanji was overcome by a wave of emotion and found his body moving on its own as he leaned down to kiss her. To his surprise, Naoto rose up as far as she could to meet his lips as well. As the kiss ended, he backed his head away and looked down at her. His heart was pounding and everything inside of him was screaming for him to kiss her again. Naoto must have felt the same, because she reached up and forcefully pulled him back down to her lips again. She kissed him long and hard, and they were both breathing heavily when she finally let him go. Kanji grabbed her hand and started leading her towards his home, stopping for more kisses along the way.
Yada yada yada...
Kanji shifted in his bed, flashes of the night before playing in his mind. He happily relived every moment, every feeling. And it wasn't even just that he had had sex for the first time; it was that he got to have it with Naoto and it was just as wonderful as he had imagined it would be. He couldn't wait for the moments after; he wanted to kiss her and hold her and just be with her for as long as she would let him. Wanting to start right away, Kanji rolled over to embrace her, but no one was there. He shot up and looked around. Naoto was gone; there was just a single sock left as proof that the night before wasn't a dream. His heart sank. He wondered if maybe he had done something wrong, that he screwed things up like he always did. With his happiness gone and a deep sigh, Kanji stood up to take a shower and start his day.
The next few days went by in a blur. Kanji was on autopilot; he woke up, went to school, went home, and went to bed. He hadn't seen or heard from Naoto since their night together, she had seemingly disappeared. He was avoiding the rest of his friends all together and the only reason he still attended school was that was a promise to himself that he had intended to keep. Deep down, Kanji wanted to look for her but he simply couldn't muster up the energy to do so. He wanted to know what he had done wrong. Did he somehow force himself on her? Was he reading all of her signals wrong? He couldn't imagine how that could be, but there had to have been something. That night had become the best and the worst night of his life, and it had left him feeling empty, like a shadow.
At the end of the week, Kanji was walking home from school when he heard someone calling his name. It sounded so distant and he didn't care to stop, so he ignored it and continued to shuffle down the street. The calling continued and got closer until someone behind him grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.
“Damn it Kanji, what the heck is wrong with you!?” Rise said, pulling him to face her, clearly upset.
“Oh, hey Rise,” he said, emotionless. Rise scowled.
“What is going on with you? You have been ignoring our texts, avoiding us at school...did we do something to make you mad?”
“What? No, no of course not.” Kanji reassured her, feeling a bad for making his friends think such a thing. “I've just been...going through a rough time.”
“Well, that's not when you stop seeing your friends, dummy! Can I help at all?” Kanji shook his head sadly.
“No. Not yet anyway. Maybe, after a little while but for now I need to work this out on my own.” Rise nodded, dropping the subject. But she still had a worry in her eyes. “Somethin' wrong?”
“Yeah, it's Naoto.” Kanji's heart dropped at the mention of her name. “We haven't seen her in days, none of us. She hadn't said she was going off on a case or anything. We were hoping you had seen her.”
“No, I haven't seen her since-” Kanji stopped short as he felt a pain of sadness erupt in his stomach. “About a week ago. I haven't seen her since then.”
“Oh no, I hope she's alright...” Rise looked worried.
“This is Naoto we are talking about, remember.” Kanji tried to reassure her. “I am sure she just absentmindedly started chasing some lead and forgot to tell us.” He was lying; he had a feeling she was avoiding everyone just like he was. But the fact that nobody had seen her at all in a week did worry him a little. After promising to inform the group if he did hear from her, as well as promising he was OK as well, they went their separate ways. Despite the idea making his stomach turn with unease, Kanji decided to stop by her house, just to make sure she was safe.
Kanji knocked on Naoto's door and waited. After a few moments, Naoto's grandfather opened it. Kanji inquired about Naoto's whereabouts, but her grandfather just shook his head. She hadn't been home since the day after their night together, but he wasn't too worried yet since, just as Kanji had told Rise, Naoto sometimes gets a little too wrapped up in her cases. Kanji thanked him and left, feeling more worried than ever. This wasn't just her avoiding him and he was certain she wasn't just on some case. Something had happened to her and he was determined to find out what.
Kanji spent the rest of the evening searching Inaba. He went to every place he could think of, asked every person who might have seen her. He contacted the rest of the Investigation Team, making sure not to mention any specifics about the last time he had seen her. They even brought Yu-senpai into the loop on the off-chance that something had caused Naoto to head to Tokyo. It was late in the evening before Kanji returned home, tired from the day but too worried to sleep. He blamed himself; maybe whatever had made her mad at him caused her to lower her guard and get herself into trouble. Maybe it was that group of thugs they had fought that night, they could have overpowered her without him there. His restless mind led him to sitting at the table in his living room, staring at nothing in the darkness.
Kanji wasn't sure how much time had passed as he zoned out, his mind bouncing between trying to think of where Naoto might be and reliving moments of their night together. He took some comfort in the latter and soon his eyes grew heavy. Suddenly, a bright light and a loud static sound caused him to shoot awake. It was his TV; it was showing a familiar fuzzy snow. Kanji looked at the clock: midnight. Confused, he studied the screen carefully. In the static, he saw a figure he knew all to well; Naoto had somehow found her way back into the TV world. The image steadily be came clearer and Kanji was shocked to see what she was wearing. It was a lacy black number; the kind of thing women wear in magazines he's of course never read before.
“Hello out there,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction. “I have found myself opened up to a brand new world of pleasure...Would anyone care to join me?” She giggled and then pouted. “Well too bad! I have my sights on one hunk of meat already. I wonder if he is man-enough to handle wittle. Ole. Me.” She gave a wink and the screen faded to black. Without thinking, Kanji immediately dived head first into his TV screen, disappearing into it as if he was diving into a swimming pool, and leaving his living room empty once more.
After a few moments of familiar disorientation, Kanji landed with a hard thud. After a year of exploring this world, he would have assumed that he would be use to the fall or at least better at the landing. He rubbed his tailbone as he stood, surveying the area. A large building stood before him; it reminded him of the hotel they had stayed at during their trip to Tatsumi Port Island. Kanji's eyes widened as he remembered what his senpais had told him about that particular hotel and he rushed into the building without a second thought. Beyond the front door was a long hallway, the end of which he couldn't see from where he stood. Every few feet along either wall was a door, spanning the entire hall. Kanji took a deep breath before kicking in the first door on his right. Looking into the room, it seemed to be a small hotel room with a bed, nightstand, and even a tiny bathroom. And while he didn't find Naoto, he did find something else familiar: shadows.
“Shit!” Kanji cursed as the shadows attacked him. “Take-Mikazuchi!” In a sudden burst of light, Kanji's persona appeared, towering over him. He took out the shadows in one swipe and Kanji turned to the next door. It might be slow going, but Kanji was ready to knock down every door in order to find Naoto.
Naoto woke up, her head pounding. She couldn't tell where she was because her vision was fuzzy. What she did know was that she couldn't move her arms. Something was tied around her wrists, binding them behind her back. Naoto blinked a few times, trying to clear her head and get her bearings. A sickeningly familiar chuckle snapped her out of her daze.
“No...” Naoto muttered under her breath. She didn't have any time to examine the room around her; all of her attention was on the person who stood before her. It was a woman in some sort of lacy lingerie; it was skimpy and black, and it was very uncomfortable for Naoto to look at because the person wearing it looked exactly like her, only with golden yellow eyes.
“Aw, what's wrong?” her shadow asked, pouting. “Don't like seeing yourself like this?” She did a small twirl, giving Naoto a full look, and giggled. “Well, you better get use to it. This is what he'll expect from you now. That...Kanji...” Her shadow shuttered with excitement.
“Stop it!” Naoto demanded, straining against her restraints.
“What!? Come now, don't pretend like you didn't notice!” Her shadow licked her lips seductively. “He really is something though. All those muscles...and then there's everything below the belt–”
“Shut up!” Naoto felt a wave of anger rise up within her, but she could already feel her strength waning. She was in the TV world, it was obvious now, and being without her persona was already taking it's toll. She knew that she wasn't going to be able to handle this alone; she was fairly certain that trying to handle things on her own was how she ended up back here in the first place. But it was too late now. All she could hope for was that her friends got here and fast, before things took a deadly turn for the worst.
“Of course it's the last God damn door in the God damn place!” Kanji growled, busting through into the largest room so far. He wasn't immediately attacked by shadows when he entered, so he took a look around. The room looked like another hotel room, only much larger. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, dousing the room in red hues. The walls were covered in mirrors of different sizes, placed seemingly randomly. There was a trail of large rose petals that lead from the door to a giant, heart-shaped bed covered in frilly pillows and silky sheets. Kanji's eye stopped as soon as he noticed someone tied to the bed.
“Naoto!” Kanji called, racing up to the bed.
“Kanji?” Naoto said, sounding groggy. She looked exhausted, but that was how people sometimes got in the TV world. Kanji made quick work of the knots around her wrists and pulled her into a hug.
“I'm...fine, Kanji. Really...” Naoto told him, pushing away. She wouldn't look him in the eye, but Kanji wasn't worried about that right now.
“What the hell happened? How did you end up here?”
“I...fell.” Naoto replied. “I started...hearing a voice while I was working late one night and all of a sudden a light came from the living room...”
“Let me guess: it was midnight.” Naoto nodded.
“It was a static picture, but someone was talking to me. I was curious, so I got closer to try and hear better, and then it felt like I was being pulled in. That's when I woke up here.”
“Well, let's get out of here.” Kanji said, holding out his hand. Naoto hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Once we're safe we can figure–”
“Ooooo, there you are! My man...” Kanji froze, the sudden voice sending a cold shiver down his spine. He knew that voice, though he wished he didn't. He turned to see Naoto's shadow standing by the far side of the bed, half naked and grinning. She was hard to look at, just about as hard as it was to look at his own shadow the first time, but for completely different reasons. He knew he was blushing and did his best to steel himself. This was no time for embarrassment; Naoto needed him. And it was helpful that he didn't like the way she was eyeing him. Kanji felt like a fat mouse being starred down by a hungry cat, ready to devour him.
“So, what do you think?” the shadow cooed. “This is what you wanted, isn't it.”
“What the hell are ya talkin' about!?” Kanji roared, his embarrassment replaced by anger.
“You've always wanted this, haven't you? Ever since the day we met. You wanted to to be with me...you got to be with me...This is always a man's end goal with a woman, isn't it?”
“Hell no! I care about Naoto! I want to spend time with her because she is smart and strong, and I consider myself lucky that she allowed me to be with her in that way. I can't say that I never thought about what it would be like...But I never, ever thought of it as a prize at the end of some game! And she knows that...right?” Kanji looked at Naoto, who was kneeling on the bed beside him. She still wouldn't look at him, looking down at the bed sheets instead. “Naoto?” Her shadow began to laugh.
“Of course, you weren't the only person involved, were you?” she said, turning her attention to Naoto. “You wanted it, just as bad as he did. You couldn't wait to lie with a man and you spread your legs for the first man that would be with you.”
“No,” Naoto sobbed.
“Do you deny it then?” her shadow asked, cackling. “Do you deny wishing for it? Wanting it? And, after you had him, do you deny wanting more? I know all of the dirty little thoughts you have had about this man, why not act upon them again like the whore you are!”
“Shut up damn it!” Kanji growled.
“N-no, I-I'm not...” Naoto muttered.
“Naoto, don't!”
“I'm not...That's not...” She couldn't finish the sentence but that must've been all her shadow needed to hear. She started laughing manically as energy started to flow around her.
“No, of course not! You're not me at all! But I bet you wish you were; oh the things I am going to do to your man...” Kanji knew what was coming next so he positioned Take-Mikazuchi near her. Suddenly, Naoto's shadow transformed. She looked less like Naoto and more like a demon, sporting wings, horns, and even a tail. She was still strikingly beautiful and wearing next to nothing, but Kanji was no longer phased by it. Her not sharing Naoto's face anymore made the battle much easier.
Naoto's shadow was fast; she was fast last time too. Unfortunately, Yu-senpai was the one who had slowed her down and ultimately beat her back then. But Kanji, being his ever optimistic self, knew he could beat anyone. He also knew that he didn't have much of a choice, since Yu-senpai wasn't here this time. Kanji did his best to channel his senpai and strategize. He knew his persona was slower, so he took up a defensive position, making sure he was between Naoto and her shadow at all times, and waited for an opening.
The shadow flew around the room, firing of blasts of dark energy. As Take-Mikazuchi took the hits, Kanji felt them but luckily they weren't too bad. With every opportunity, his persona took swings at her, hitting her on occasion. But the damage seemed minimal and left the shadow unphased. Kanji knew this wasn't how the shadow was going to be stopped, so he turned his attention back to Naoto.
“Naoto?”
“I-I am fine,” she told him. She was lying, of course, but he pressed on anyway.
“Will you tell me what the hell happened? How did your persona revert!?”
“I-I don't...” She truly looked at him for the first time since he had arrived. She looked scared and sad. If he was being honest, he was pretty sure he knew what the cause of all of this was. What he still didn't understand was why.
“OK, so this is probably has something to do with the fact that we -” Naoto nodded. “Alright, but why? How did that one night turn into this?” Naoto was silent. She clearly didn't want to tell him, but she had to if they wanted to get out of there alive. “Damn it Naoto, you know how this goes!” Kanji said, flinching as his persona continued to take multiple attacks. “You just have to accept whatever yer feeling and we can get the hell out of here!”
“I know, I just...” Naoto held her head, clearly in pain. Kanji wanted nothing more than to help her, but he knew she needed to work this out on her own. However, since he was heavily involved this time, maybe he could help her along. Kanji sighed.
“OK, let's work this out.” He knelt down and looked her in the eye. “Do you regret it?” Naoto was silent for a long time, considering.
“No, but I think that's the problem.” she finally said. “I feel like I should regret it. Every time I think about it, I think of a reason why I should: we're too young, we're not in a relationship, it just sort of happened without any prior discussion...But in spite of all of that, I still don't regret what happened.”
“So, is that a bad thing?”
“Maybe?” Naoto replied, choking up as the weight of everything started to hit her. “I just...does that make me...”
“What?” Kanji barked, aware of how harsh he was being but he was also starting to wear down from the attacks he was enduring.
“...a harlot?” Kanji looked at her, confused. She sighed. “A-a slut or a whore, you know? I always try to hold myself to a higher standard, but the fact that I succumbed to my more...primal urges so easily...”
“So is that all that night was to you then!?” Kanji asked, hurt by her words. “It was just a mistake? An accident that happened because I somehow woke some crazed, sexual monster inside of you!?” Naoto was taken aback by his outburst. He placed a hand on hers. “Naoto, I've liked you since the moment I met you. Even when I thought you were a dude, I knew I was starting to fall for you. All I ever wanted was to be with you and to someday tell you how I felt. So, even though this wasn't something I was specifically aiming for, I am happy that it happened. Getting to be so close to you, even for such a short amount of time, makes anything that happens after worth it. Even if we never do it again, even if you never want to see me again, I wouldn't trade that night for anything. B-because...because...” Kanji swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his heart pounding. “Because I love you, Naoto. And there is one thing that I need to know so that we can fix all of this crap: do you have feelings for me?”
“What!?” Naoto replied, shocked by his sudden confession and the bluntness of his question.
“Damn it, we don't have time to be shy about this shit anymore!” Kanji scolded her, groaning as he endured another attack. “Isn't there any way, any way at all, that the reason you succumbed to me wasn't because you are some sort of secret sexual deviant, but be cause you have feelings for me too?” Kanji cautiously waited for her response, knowing full well that her denial wouldn't only harm her, but break him as well. But Naoto's expression suddenly turned from sadness to her normal steely determination.
“I think you may be right.” she said, squeezing his hand. “I've been so caught up in what people might think of me and the supposed 'mistake' I've made. But here is what I think: whenever I think about that night, it makes me...happy. I am so happy that I got to share something so intimate with you. And while we had yet to establish a romantic relationship with each other, where are the rules that say that we have to?” Naoto stood up and addressed her shadow, who had stopped fighting and started listening intently. “Yes, I had sex with Kanji and yes, I enjoyed it. That doesn't make me a whore, that makes me human. I also find him attractive, but not only just physically. I am attracted to his loving heart, his fierce loyalty, and his indomitable spirit. I don't know what will happen between us after this, but that's OK. As long as I can still call him my friend and he'll stand by my side, then I know everything will work out just fine. Because...” Naoto looked up at Kanji, who had also stood up, and gave him a warm smile. “Because, I think I may love you as well.” With that, the shadow erupted in a flash of light that engulfed her. Above her appeared a familiar small, blue figure; Sukuna-Hikona had returned to normal. Naoto fell to her knees, exhausted.
“Naoto!” Kanji said, leaning down to support her.
“I'm fine, really. I'm just tired.” Kanji helped her to her feet. He tried to support her as they attempted to walk out of the room, but he opted to carry her in his arms due to their height difference. She didn't seem to mind.
“Thank you...for coming to save me.”
“Of course! What did'ja think I was gonna do?”
“I don't know; I thought you might have been mad at me...”
“I'm not gonna lie to ya, I was a little mad at you for a while. I though I had done something wrong.”
“I am sorry about that. But, if it is any consolation, I thought I had done something wrong as well.”
“But, ya don't now?” Naoto shook her head. Kanji felt a buzz of excitement rise up in his chest. “So, d-do you really?”
“Really what?”
“Y-you know...do you really...l-love me?”
“I think it is entirely possible that I do.” she replied, almost smugly. “Is that OK?”
“Y-yeah, of course it's OK! But, does that mean...”
“I suppose it does.”
“Hell no! If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right!” Kanji stopped and set Naoto down on her feet gently. He bowed slightly. “N-Naoto! Would you please be my g-girlfriend!” He said it too loudly and Naoto laughed at him.
“Yes Kanji, I would love to be.”
“WHAAAAT!?” A chorus of voices had rung out from down the hall in front of them. Kanji looked up to see the entire rest of the Inaba Investigation Team standing there, shocked by the scene that they had just witnessed. Both Kanji and Naoto turned beat red; this was not the way they wanted to tell their friends about their relationship.
“Oh my God! You guys!” Rise squealed.
“What the heck is going on?” Chie-senpai asked.
“I-is he confessing!?” Yukiko-senpai chimed in.
“Kanji, dude, good on you but what the hell is wrong with your choice of location?” Yosuke-senpai added.
“Ooh! Is Kanji 'scoring' with Nao-chan?” Teddie asked.
“Shut it bear!” Kanji growled. “What the hell are you all doing here?”
“We came to look for you, Moronji!” Rise replied.
“We were all awake pretty late after searching for Naoto and that's when we saw the Midnight Channel.” Chie-senpai explained.
“We all planned on meeting in the usual spot the next morning, but when you didn't answer the text and didn't show up at Junes, we all knew that you were dumb enough to dive in by yourself.” Yosuke-senpai continued. “How were you planning on getting out of here again without Teddie anyway?”
“W-well...I hadn't thought that far ahead yet!” Kanji defended and the group all laughed at him.
“What even happened, Naoto?” Yukiko-senpai asked, changing the subject. “It was clearly you on the Midnight Channel. Did your shadow return?”
“Yes, well...” Naoto had trouble finding the right words. How were they supposed to explain what happened without telling them what actually happened? “K-Kanji and I had gotten into a bit of a...fight. I was feeling particularly guilty about it and, well, one thing led to another and now here we are. It is all taken care of though.”
“Oh, so is that why you were acting so strange last week, Kanji?” Rise asked and he nodded. “Alright, but that still doesn't explain why your shadow created...this...” She gestured to the decor of the hallway and rooms. “Plus, your shadow was saying some really strange things...Wait a minute; what in the world were you fighting about? Kanji, you didn't...You two, you didn't-”
“Well now,” Naoto quickly interrupted before they could head down that line of questioning. “As much as I would like to talk about the my shadow, I am very tired after my ordeal and wish to go home, so Teddie, if you wouldn't mind?” Thankfully the group agreed to get Naoto home to recover and Teddie created his normal TV portal home. Rise continued to look on them knowingly as they said their goodbyes, leaving Naoto to rest in her bed. Kanji wanted nothing more than to stay and wait by her side, but he could feel Rise's eyes on him and he didn't want to make her more suspicious than she already was. He used him being tired himself to head home, promising to meet back up with everyone as soon as Naoto felt better. As he finally lied down into bed, his thoughts were filled with one thing: Naoto was officially his girlfriend and he couldn't be happier.
A few days passed before Naoto contacted the group saying she was up and about again. They all planned on meeting up at Junes on the next day everyone was free to do so. As soon as that day rolled around, Kanji made sure he headed out early. He wanted to make sure he would be the first person to see Naoto, so he decided to surprise her at her house. Her grandfather greeted him at the door and told him that Naoto was getting ready in her room. Kanji headed there, peaking in quietly as she was fussing with her hair before knocking softly on her door frame. She jumped slightly, startled, before turning around to see him.
“Oh!” she side, smiling a little. “Hello.”
“Hey.” Kanji replied, stepping fully into the room. She looked great; they had only been communicating via texts since she got back home and Kanji had missed her. “It's great to actually see you again. Are you sure you're feeling better?” Naoto nodded.
“I wouldn't have said I would meet with everyone if I wasn't. Everyone would have just rushed me back home otherwise.”
“Ya, probably.” They grew silent, neither sure what to talk about. After a few moments, Kanji decided to bring up the only thing that had been on his mind for days. “So, I just want to make sure since I know I can be super dense sometimes, but you're answer is still 'yes', right?” Naoto smiled at him sweetly.
“Yes, that's still my answer.” she replied, walking right up to him and pulling him down into a passionate kiss. As they finally pulled away from each other, both sighed happily.
“Now that that's been established, what about if we ever want to...ya know...”
“Um...Oh!” Naoto blinked as she realized what he meant, her face getting hot at the idea of having sex with him again. “W-well, I suppose that would just have to be something we decide together. Whenever the time feels right.”
“And you're sure you're OK with it now? You're not going to run away again?” Naoto nodded.
“I'm sure. I love you, Kanji. And I know that it's something I want to do with the person I-” She was interrupted as Kanji pulled her up into another deep kiss. They were officially going to be late to their meeting, but neither cared as they quietly shut the bedroom door.
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keyfyapmak · 5 years ago
Text
Proud?
When I was 17, my mother and I sat on my bed in my room in Ankara: the wall was covered, corner to corner, with fine art prints. It was the backdrop to my mother as we chatted casually, on some weekend morning. “What would you do if I married a woman?” I had asked, not even aware of not being straight at the time; it was genuinely a hypothetical question. She paused, took a breath, and looked aside thoughtfully. “Well”, she said, “I’d be sad about two things: one, the way that the world would treat you. And two, that I wouldn’t have natural grandchildren.”
And that was that. Two perfectly reasonable fears, one of which doesn’t even apply (Mum you doknow that IVF exists right?). That simple answer, which she probably doesn’t even remember responding with, ensured that I would live my entire life free from insecurity about my sexuality. It cemented itself deep in my brain, and I knew without a single wavering doubt that my mum would accept that part of me unconditionally. And that’s exactly what happened when I accidentally came out to her last month. We were talking about a queer arts event, when my mum offhandedly said ‘but wouldn’t you be the only straight one taking part?’.
Turns out the countless hints I had left over the years never hit home. I have always been content with the idea that I have never had to really ‘come out’, that I just dated as I pleased, and dropped enough hints or casual mentions that everyone probably knew or guessed and that was good enough for me, and if they assumed I was straight I wasn’t really bothered either. For me sexuality has always been more connected to my dating life than an intrinsic part of my identity, so I genuinely have never really cared, or thought much about it. But suddenly here I was, lounging on my sofa in the middle of a conversation with my mum, about to come out. I paused, chose my tactic, and went for it.
“Oh no Mum, I’m not straight,” I replied, with a casual smiling condescension.
“Oh right,” she replied. “But you’ve had so many boyfriends?”
Later I would look back and wish I had replied with “Just because I’m not straight, doesn’t mean I have good taste,” for extra comedic retelling value, but instead I just went, “yeah I know.” I then moved the conversation along swiftly as if we had just discussed what I was planning to have for breakfast. This was exactly how I would have wanted to come out: casually, with no anxiety, no big deal. But my casual demeanour dropped as the conversation came to an end. I blurted out, “Mum! Before you go I just want to say I didn’t tell you because I never bothered to because you never gave me a reason to be scared about it, and that’s why I’m so ok about it, because of you, thank you, I love you.” She paused again, and as I was halfway out the door to let a friend in, she finished with “But you know I would always love you anyways, of course.” And I did. Of course I did.
My mother happened to be visiting my godparents at the time, a gay couple, who called me some weeks later. They told me how she had come down the stairs, sat down at breakfast slightly dazed, and relayed the conversation back to them. “Just like that?!” They had asked her, incredulously. “Yes, just like that.”
‘Just like that’ is how I planned to continue as well. I didn’t like the idea of one one or two people knowing, because now it felt like a secret. I decided to suck it up, and consciously come out to my aunt as well. I did this while putting on liquid eyeliner, with her on speakerphone. “Oh by the way,” I added at the end of a conversation, “I told Mum I wasn’t straight because it just came up, and I didn’t want it to be a secret, so now you know too.” My aunt didn’t even pause before saying “Oh, I kind of figured.” At least someone in my family has a gaydar. I completed a perfect wing-tip, and hung up. Two down. That would do for now.
That casual tone, that implication that it simply isn’t a big deal or interesting enough to warrant a conversation, is how I have always viewed my sexuality. For me, it simply isn’t. Perhaps pride is something that comes from struggle, and I hadn’t struggled. I didn’t feel like I had earned something that I was just born with, and hadn’t fought for. And I suppose that’s why, after a lifetime of safely not caring about being bisexual, I finally encountered the one thing that would shatter that comfort:
Other queers.
I have spent my life moving country, on the periphery of all communities and groups. With the exception of my university friends, who I cemented my heart to in a way I haven’t with any other groups of people, I generally keep at the edges of everything. Last September, in a Facebook thread, I mentioned that I had written a poem about how inconsequential it was for me to be bi. I was surprised that this led to me being immediately booked to perform said poem at the annual Bi+ Ireland Bi+ Visibility Day event. I was even more surprised when, at my first ever queer event, I won the award for bi visibility. Me! The person who at the time had no coming out story, and spent my life comfortably under the radar! I remember meeting new people who I immediately liked, who made me laugh with terrible puns, and with great taste in tropical shirts. It felt strange, being in a room with people ‘like me’. I didn’t really know what that even meant.
After that initial dipping a toe in, I went a step further and joined the Bi+ Ireland Facebook group. I suppose that’s where things started rubbing up against insecurities I didn’t know I had. The group itself is lovely, and supportive. I was drowning in a sea of posts about bi colours, and queer in-jokes, and flags I didn’t know existed. It reminded me of how when I was in the bathroom during the Bi Visibility event, I overheard two people talking about queerness, with a confident and casual hold over terms and references and in-jokes that I didn’t understand. I didn’t feel a sense of joy whenever I see the colours blue, pink, and purple. I couldn’t relate to the jokes, the stories, the coming out tales, or the relationship structures most people seemed to have. It came as a huge shock, after being so quietly confident about this part of myself, to find out that I did in fact have fears about queerness. It was the same fear I’ve had about joining any community. It was the fear that, after all that, after finding ‘my people’, I didn’t fit in at all. Even though the group does everything in its power to reassure people that no matter what, they are queer enough, now that I was in a pool of people ‘like me’, I felt like I wasn’t anyways. My deepest insecurity that informs most of my life is the fear of not being ‘enough’. Suddenly this was tapped in a new way, and ‘not queer enough’ became my new obsession. I finally found something I could relate to with other queers: the feeling that I hadn’t earned my queer stripes.
And I suppose that’s where pride comes in. I’ve never felt proud of being bisexual, because I’ve never felt anything about being bisexual. For me it was like asking me to be proud about my favourite colour. But of course, I’m aware it’s nothing like a favourite colour. It’s intrinsic, and something you choose to act on. The same applied to my nationality, my ethnicity, my womanhood. These are all things I was born with, and so I’m not proud of them. I didn’t work hard to be bisexual, or Indian, or a woman. I worked hard at making a career in the arts, at being an immigrant, at supporting my friends. THOSE are the things I am proud of, because I feel like I have earned them. When I am finally Irish I will be overwhelmed with pride, because I would have fought 8 long years to earn that title. And perhaps I am just that little bit prouder of being a woman since Ireland repealed the 8th, because I knew that despite my mental health and inability to vote, I fought. I put up posters. I wore Repeal merchandise even though I knew it made me a walking target. I still wear an Abortion Rights NI tote bag, because the fight isn’t over. During the Marriage Equality referendum I was deeply unwell in my old job, and so I felt like I absolutely didn’t do enough to canvas, or help, or fight for that glorious outcome. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? The fight? How could I be proud of something I didn’t fight for?
So here I am. On Pride morning, in 2019, trying to figure out what I am proud of. And I think I am starting to figure that out. Yes, pride seems to come from coming out the other side of a struggle, and I realise, there are fights I haven’t fought yet. I am not proud of my nationality because I haven’t begun working through my cultural identity issues and insecurities. I’m not proud of being bisexual because I still am so distanced and a little baffled at my own sexuality that I don’t feel ownership over it. I haven’t done enough work on the things I was born with because I feel like I didn’t earn them. And the fight in this case isn’t on the streets, or with facebook posts, or by canvassing strangers. It’s a conflict I haven’t resolved in myself, and I suspect once I am on the other side of that struggle, a sense of pride will come naturally. I may be very late in the game coming to terms with myself, but better late than never.
In the meantime, I have a very bright pink pair of trousers and a tasteful tropical shirt to put on, and a March to attend. Even that small step might be something to be proud of.
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romancevsreality-blog · 7 years ago
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the bachelorette, season thirteen, episode three: (infantile noises)
My friend Jack texted me on Monday and said, “This episode of The Bachelorette is so homoerotic.”1 And much like the dog I wish I was, my ears perked up and have stayed that way. Come at me, homoerotica.
We resume the episode where we left off - DeMario’s arrived at the mansion, and Rachel’s headed out with Rachel and Chris Harrison, the Bianca to my Chastity - followed by the men, who are all ready to defend their woman. I know I made a West Side Story reference last week, but it bears repeating: I’m waiting for these guys to start snapping while they’re walking2. DeMario’s rehearsed his speech, and really just wants Rachel to know that he owned up to what he did. All the guys are like “GROSSSSSSSSS, STOP IT.” One of the guys mentions that DeMario is a talker, which can or cannot be an insult, and in this case, certainly is.
Women everywhere: if you’re seeing a guy and in the early stages you feel like you can barely get a word in, get out. If you feel like he’s talking at you as opposed to with you, get out. DeMario comes in with all the moves that have probably worked lesser women - dropping quotes, talking about how he was kept up all night - and Rachel’s like, “Yeah, this is bullshit.” She says he’s a boy, not a man - considering his first instinct was to lie to her instead of owning up to his issues in the moment instead of 24-36 hours later. She’s happy he’s taken the time to reflect and acknowledge, but she’s done. He’s not coming back to the mansion, full stop.
Y’all.
We are unworthy of Rachel.
She returns to the guys, and they’re all applauding. Damn it, they should be carrying her around on the throne she deserves.
Jonathan, who I hate, has giant hands. Like, blow-up doll hands. I can only see this. Y’all, Jonathan is Buster Bluth.
Alex does a Rubik’s Cube in front of Rachel, and I’m still holding onto that little bit of hate I have in my heart for him, but damn, if he isn’t adorable. I wish my fuckboy radar was more on-point. We’re treated to more Kenny being a good dad, and he shows pictures of his daughter. I love McKenzie. So much.
Syllabic Noise’s suit offends me. It’s both somehow light blue, light grey, and yellow plaid. My eyes have been assaulted. Blake is still salty as fuck about the fact that Syllabic Noise is still there. Syllabic Noise thinks that Blake has a crush on him, and accuses… Blake… of sexually eating a banana near him? Licking a banana?
It turns out to be a fucking genius move, though. Oh my god.
Syllabic Noise turned the classic Bachelor/ette Move: tattling on one another - and escalated it to hilarious levels. He just made up the most ridiculous story he could think of and told Rachel, because he knew Rachel would bring it to Blake, and Blake would take it seriously, because Blake has zero sense of humor, and made himself look like the douchebag he is by talking about the fact that he’s on a ketogenic diet first. Plus, he planted the image of one man eating a banana over another man’s bed in the night in Rachel’s head.
I mean, I couldn’t marry a man if I saw that image every time I saw him. Syllabic Noise may be a waste of air, but this was fucking brilliant. I can acknowledge when people I hate do good things. It takes time, but I can. That’s adulthood.
We head into the Rose Ceremony, and everyone is nervous.
Bryan, Bryce, Eric, Anthony3, Will, Jonathan/Buster Bluth, JACKSTONE, Matt, Alex, Adam, Kenny <3, Brady, Lee, Iggy, Fred, and Diggy all get roses.
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That means Jam(ie) (we hardly knew ye), Syllabic Noise, and Blake are all going home.
Syllabic Noise and Blake are both fucking pissed. They think the other ruined the experience for each other. They’re each doing their exit talking heads about how they hate each other. Blake more than Syllabic Noise, it seems - Blake goes on about how they live in the same town and they can’t escape each other, he fucking haaaates him. Meanwhile, Syllabic Noise is getting drunk(er) and sad(der) and basically calls Blake the meathead he is. Blake comes into Syllabic Noise’s talking...head...space? I guess? Blake calls himself a “nice gentleman” and accuses Syllabic Noise of just wanting to be on TV because he’s a washed-up comedian.
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If I could sum this entire argument up into one image, it would be this:
I haven’t seen an argument dissolve so hilariously since Sheree Whitfield vs. Marlo Hampton.
Bye, fools!!!
The next day, Chris Harrison comes by the house to tell the remaining dudes what’s going down this week: two group dates, and a one-on-one. Chris Harrison is acting all chill, like he doesn’t know I’m coming for his gig. Pfft, what a fool.
Anyway, there’s a date card.
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Bryan, Jonathan/Buster Bluth, Peter, Alex, Will, and Fred are all going to the set of Ellen, because we need some cross-promo this season!
All the guys are pumped. Everyone loves Ellen, which is a sentiment I don’t understand. I do get on Team Ellen when she says she doesn’t like Jonathan for tickling Rachel. Ellen asks why he’s still there, and really likes Rachel.
Fine, Ellen. You’re okay. I’m not going to comment on Rachel’s top because even perfection makes bad choices sometimes.
All the guys are going to be on the show with Rachel, and they all learn for the first time that she kissed someone. Jonathan solidifies his status as Buster Bluth when he expresses his wish to kiss her… at all… anywhere… period. Bryan admits to kissing her, and so does Peter, and then Bryan, who I was deeply infatuated with at this point, refers to Rachel kissing Peter as Peter getting his “sloppy seconds”. COME ON, BRYAN. DON’T REFER TO THE GIRL YOU’RE TRYING TO WOO AS SLOPPY SECONDS. Hello, Red Flag, it’s nice to see you!
I guess we’ll see Bryan in Paradise, tbh.
The guys are instructed to take off their shirts and go dance in the audience, which most of them do eagerly. Most of them, of course. Alex is built like a tree, and I am.. .God, I’m swooning. I’M SO ANGRY WITH MYSELF RIGHT NOW. Rachel is thrilled, as am I. I love a shirtless man. Rachel and the guys play Never Have I Ever with Ellen. You know what? I love Never Have I Ever. I love 10 Fingers, I love all of those stupid confession games. They’re so dramatic. Plus, I mostly love any game that can be mixed with drinking.
I love most games.
We get some wonderful shaming of the men - Alex peed in the pool! Alex sends nude selfies! Fred had sex with a woman twice his age! Fred knew Rachel when he was a kid! - and Alex really emerges in this date. Fred wants to show Rachel a different side of himself. They go to the After-After-After Party, where Alex talks about how Rachel looks at him Lisa “Left-Eye” Lopez to Lisa “Left-Eye” Lopez, because your left eye is connected to your emotions, and your right is connected to your logic.
Fuck, this would totally work on me, and I’m unashamed to admit so. Alex seems like the rare person who can be outrageous but be genuine and authentic in doing so in a manner than seems to be pure joy. I hate to call him this, but damn, he’s a ray of sunshine. Don’t fuck it up, Alex.
Rachel sits in Bryan’s lap, and ROAR. I hope you all know that whenever Rachel disappoints me this season, I will be referring to her in my mind as “Rachel”, pronounced the traditionally Jewish way, like the traditionally Jewish mother I am in my brain. They make out. I get it, he’s boneriffic. But be better than this, RACHEL.
Fred is feeling massively insecure about not having kissed Rachel yet. On their intimate date, he asks her if he can kiss her. As a person who’s all about consent, great. Yes or no, enthusiastic consent, all that. But like, he goes about it in such a roundabout way that I’m just like DUDE JUST FUCKING KISS HER ALREADY. It’s a kiss, it’s not like you’re Cate Blanchett choosing a merkin. He finally does it, though. He’s now claiming that she was his childhood crush, a fact that is new to me and hopefully everyone else.
Rachel gathers the guys and makes it seem like she’s going to give Fred the group date rose. She wasn’t feeling the kiss, which sucks for him, but she can’t return the feelings he has for her. I’m proud of her for doing this. She sends him home, which is a bummer - if I was interested in a guy from my childhood and he couldn’t see me past who I was back then (a literal child), I’d be upset, too.
The group date rose goes to Alex, and Fred leaves in the White Van of Doom.
The next day, we see Eric freaking out about Fred’s elimination and how he feels his relationship with Rachel lacks passion. Dude, you’ve known her two weeks. Calm down. Meanwhile, Anthony walks down Rodeo Drive, and I’m so happy! Anthony is too good for this franchise with his Fullbright and whatnot. He arrives to Rachel on a horse, and they’re going to ride horses on Rodeo Drive. Anthony’s never been on a horse, which I find charming. Everyone’s freaking out because QUEEN RACHEL HAS ALLOWED THEM IN HER PRESENCE, rightfully so.
They stop with their horses at West, which is full of cowboy attire. They get fitted for some cowboy boots and various other cowboy attire, and Rachel officially needs a Ted Baker campaign where she’s on a horse wearing a gorgeously large hat in some wonderful meadow wearing pastels. They order horse cupcakes from the Sprinkles ATMs, a thing I thought died in 2009. They ride horses into what appears to be the boutique that rejected Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and are afraid that the horses are going to poop. We’re treated to a blurred image of some green-ass poop inside the boutique, which if I ever get a chance to remake Pretty Woman, if will feature a scene wherein which someone poops in that shitty boutique.4
They have an nice, seemingly effortless date. It’s cute. Anthony’s low-key in a way that might not help him in the long run, though. Anthony gets a rose!
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Back at the house, there’s a date card!!!
Brady (WHO), Jesse McCartney, Adam, Kenny, Bryce (WHO X2), Lee, JACK STONE, and Eric are all going on the group date.
Meanwhile, the guys are happy for Anthony, but Eric’s feeling massively insecure5. He accuses Rachel of putting up facades because they haven’t had a real connection yet. Iggy decides concern trolling is the correct path to take. Eric says Rachel is playing a game until she gets what she wants. The producer that’s planting this insecurity in his brain is excellent. Eric basically flips because Iggy inserted himself, and Eric wasn’t having it.
Rachel arrives at the house the next day with Corinne, Jasmine, Raven, and Alexis, and the girls are there to judge the guys on the group date they planned. They get on a bus with a stripper pole, of course, because this show can’t help itself. Raven asked Bryce and Lee who she thinks is a bad match for Rachel, and they of course both say Eric. They show up to a saloon, where guess what?
They’re mud wrestling.
Jack, you were totally right about the homoeroticism of this date. First we have the guys doing Chippendales, and then we have the guys mud wrestling in what literally looks like what came out of the horse in the boutique on Rachel and Anthony’s date. I guess anything to save some money?
All the guys are pumped, but no one more than Kenny, who’s a fucking professional wrestler and the guys are all going to get wrecked. The first match is Brady v. Bryce, two guys I DO NOT RECOGNIZE. Who are these men? They get rowdy. Especially Kenny. I really just don’t understand how these matches are judged. Can someone explain wrestling to me? It comes down to Kenny vs. Bryce, and Bryce wins because nothing in this world is fair or just. I hate dates like these. They’re so gross. I just hate date activities that don't provide any insight into who the guys are or how Rachel feels about them. Dean/Jesse McCartney was my wrestling MVP for looking as uncomfortable and grossed out by it all when they first walked in as I was.
Rachel talks to the girls while the guys go shower6 and Raven reveals the guys’ skepticism of Eric. Jasmine defends Eric, and Rachel’s now on edge. We’ll see!!
At the After-After-After-After Party, Rachel’s excited to spend her time with the guys. She’s wearing the chicest grey jacket paired with a grey top & skirt. I love her. Kenny reveals that he at one time was a Chippendales dancer - a fact I find entirely unsurprising. Is there a man employed in Vegas who hasn’t worked for Chippendales at some point? Rachel has no idea who’s getting the rose, but Eric admits that he doesn’t know what to do for the first time in his life. He feels like he’s vulnerable. Rachel tells him that Bryce and Lee said that he had incorrect motives. You can tell he’s pissed, but he tries to play it cool.
Eric goes to the other guys to talk about it and confront Bryce and Lee. Both Kenny and Jack are like, “soooooooo… We’re outta here.” I’m on no one’s side in this situation. Eric is too quick to flip the switch to anger in a way that frightens me, but he’s also correct in that he was being gaslit by three guys who just spent their time with Rachel talking about him. Lee came across as incredibly patronizing and gross, though. “I respect you, I just question your ability.” They’re like, “you were scaring us - we love you, but you’re not a good person.”
Regardless of what they tried to do, though, Eric gets the group date rose.
At the cocktail party, Rachel thanks the guys for challenging her, and I’m wondering what the hell she’s drinking. It looks like a beer in a rocks glass, and I am immensely confused. Iggy takes Rachel aside and talks about the conversation he had with Eric, and basically tells her that he questioned if Rachel is there for the right reasons. Rachel’s like, “hrm,” and they’re interrupted. Iggy goes to Eric and tells him that he ratted him out. Iggy wants him to listen more, to take pause and be present. Eric gets mad that Iggy talked about him during his time, but Iggy just wants him to be more mature in this scenario. He actually handles it with aplomb.
Then Lee goes and does the exact same thing, but with much more villainous intent. He literally says “I’m going to throw him under the bus, and I’m going to enjoy doing it.” Lee capitalized on Eric yelling at Iggy and decided to plant the seed of doubt in Rachel’s brain. He accused him of being scary and dishonest with his intentions. Rachel immediately goes to Eric and tries to clarify what’s going down. She doesn’t appreciate him basically accusing her of not being genuine. Eric doesn’t understand why he’s being attacked (simply put: he’s the easiest target). Rachel chooses to believe him with prejudice.
Eric, though, goes ahead and gathers all the guys and deals with it like a mature adult.
No, he’s basically like, “get my name outcha mouf” to Lee and Bryce, and tells them to back off. Lee keeps saying “wow,” and “oh my gosh,” and tries to play the victim. Eric flips, as they would like him to.
To Be Continued.
Next Week: Lee basically learns black history and how fucked up it is for a white man to accuse a black man of aggression/anger that’s undeserved. Fuck you, Lee.
Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:
Adam, Brady, Bryce, and Iggy are totally going home next week. Lee and Eric will get a two-on-one that Lee won’t survive.
I’m so glad there was no Josiah this episode, oh my god.
Rachel, again, is the best lead this show could have.
I don’t know who I want to see less in Paradise: Lucas, Blake, or Lee.
It’s his first season - he has no idea what’s to come in Paradise. ↩︎
I promptly did this on my way to the bathroom after writing this sentence. ↩︎
ANTHONY IS NOT GETTING ENOUGH SCREENTIME. ↩︎
I will not do that to Garry Marshall’s legacy. ↩︎
Eric’s also a ceiling talker - his eyes always roll up to the ceiling as if his next thought is up there. ↩︎
One time after Lollapalooza I was literally covered in mud from the thigh-down, and then had to deal with a 4+ hour drive home and got home at 5 AM, dysfunctional as hell, and then realized I had to clean my shit off. MUD IS HARD AS HELL TO CLEAN especially when it’s dry, so I hope these dudes had a ton of time/body oil. ↩︎
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