#but just in the sense that they’re so endearingly annoying and irritating together

[steveharrington]

dan and serena so annoyinggggg (/pos) they’re literally at a ball with dates and still standing there saying shit like the night we had sex was the best night of my life 🥺 now let’s go find our dates! also bart bass dead allegations?

[miraimisu]

"You're lucky your cute" for Lona? 🥺

[part 1] | [part 2] | [part 3]

Gladion isn’t sure what the ABC of friends with benefits says, but he doubts ice cream dates are in the manual. Moon says it’s not a date, but Hau and Lillie won’t be with them, and both of them blush when plans have been laid: it is a date.

Against his better judgement, he doesn’t say anything about the issue, because the idea isn’t bad and Arceus forbid he asks her out first. 

As they stroll along Heahea City’s port, he looks around, tense and stiff. His baseball cap and glasses should conceal his identity just fine, and nobody is looking at them, but now that they’re on a date, it feels so surreal and foreign he’s unsure how to act.

Beside him, Moon sighs. “Stop looking around. We’re just normal people enjoying a normal day together.”

Gladion, always more self-aware than her, rolls his shoulders in a conscious effort to rid himself of the tension. “What if someone finds us and thinks we’re on a date? Do you really want the Alolan media to follow you around again?”

Moon looks away. “Well, so what? Would it be that bad if they thought you’re dating me?”

Gladion squares her jaw, and his grip on his ice cream tightens to the point he nearly shatters the cone. “That’s not it. We said we’d keep this a secret, right? What if Hau and Lillie find us strolling instead of battling like we said we would?”

Moon shakes her head, sighing. “You worry too much. Let’s sit down and eat the ice cream– we can tell them we’re just taking a break, if they see us or something.”

Gladion never thought trying to go on a date with Moon would be this complicated. Maybe if Moon had picked a more secluded place to go, he’d be enjoying the afternoon and not distressing over the media and tourists spotting them.

Moon doesn’t look pleased, but she’s not annoyed, either– as though she’d seen it coming.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: being unable to enjoy a date or Moon not enjoying herself because of it.

With a sigh, he follows Moon to a bench near a wooden juice bar that stands on the beach. Moon eats her ice cream, glancing at the beach behind her distractedly, and Gladion runs a hand over his face.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really don’t want anyone to find us out and make us the talk of the region.”

Moon nods with a smile, licking her lips clean of ice cream. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

She shakes her head with a giggle. “We’re both new at this– dating and all that. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t scared of journalists hiding around every corner. Also, your ice cream is melting.”

With a start, he fumbles to turn his ice cream around, licking the falling bead off. One of Moon’s statements sticks to his memory, and he gulps. “Um, so this is a date, then?”

Under her straw pamela, her shaded cheeks heat up, and she becomes endearingly bashful. “I– I mean, if you don’t want to–”

“N-No!” He looks around, knowing he spoke a bit too loudly. “I mean– yeah. I do. But I’m not sure how to act. We don’t exactly go on dates and, um, do what other couples do. Not like we’re an actual couple, of course…”

She purses her lips. “Of course.”

The silence that ensues is filled with the chatter of bypassers and the cooing of seagulls in the sky. He doesn’t like how she agreed to them still not being anything, and he hates how he can’t ask her to be his girlfriend like a normal person would.

For goodness’ sake, they’ve done everything beyond that step. They’ve kissed, slept together, traveled together and thus lived together. This is ridiculous.

Moon clears her throat. “You know, dates aren’t about us being romantic. We just have to do what we always do.”

Mental images of what they always do invade his head. His throat dries up. “Here!?”

Her eyes widen with an intense blush. “Not that! We have to do the other things we do when we’re not, um, doing that kind of stuff. Battling, walking around, eating malasadas, poking fun at Hau, fun things!”

Gladion chuckles. “Hau isn’t here.”

She laughs. “Fine then, no poking fun at Hau, but we can do the rest! There’s a Mantine Surfing contest. We can go watch later, or take part in it, if you’re up to getting your ankles wet.”

“I refuse to participate if you do. You always play dirty.”

Moon grins cheekily and licks her ice cream. “Fine then, you’ll just watch. We can use the prize to invite Lillie and Hau to dinner.” She scoots a little closer, looking at his lemon ice cream. “How is it?”

He looks at his ice cream, then at her. “It’s good. Do you want a taste?”

She nods, and he lets her have a little lick. He would have kept the little plastic spoon with him if he were with someone else, but they’re well beyond that line now. The sight of ice cream on the corner of her lips doesn’t have the right to look as enticing as it does, though.

Moon licks her lips slowly with a delighted hum. “It’s sweeter than any I’ve ever tried. Never thought you would like something this sweet. Do you wanna try some of mine?”

He looks at the ball of raspberry ice cream, hesitant. It’s not his kind of sweet, but if she likes it, then it’s probably good. “Sure.”

He leans in to have a small bite. At first, it’s a little too much on his tongue, but it leaves a pleasantly tangy taste in his throat. Moon looks at him expectantly. “It’s good,” he confirms with a smile. “Suits you well.”

Moon giggles, and before she can keep on eating her ice cream, she points at his mouth. “You have a bit of ice cream there.”

Blinking, he frowns. “Huh? Where?”

A second passes. Moon looks left and right, biting her lip; that’s the first warning.

With a little smirk, she scoots closer, their legs touching. Moon leans in, and for a second, he thinks she’s going to kiss him– that is, before she licks the residue off, eliciting a shudder out of him.

Her tongue had brushed his lip, and the contact alone had made his whole body come alive. She savors it with a wide smile, only broken when she looks at him again. She covers her mouth with a laugh. 

“Um, your ice cream...”

He looks at his right hand, where only bits of the cookie cone remain. His lovely ice cream sits forlornly on the sandy pavement. He gasps, blushes, and Moon laughs at his expense whilst blushing plenty herself.

Gladion grabs her hand and pushes them out of the bench before she can embarrass him any further. Moon laughs louder, following him as he takes them to a secluded spot behind the juice bar, sheltered by the shade of some palm trees.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. You really are,” he grumbles. “Do you know what you do to me when you do that?”

Moon grins, leaning against the back of the bar. “I was just messing with you. It’s funny how bold and honest you are when we’re alone, but the second we’re in public, you turn into the cutest idiot ever.”

It’s not every day that she delivers such sweet words, and his heart reacts accordingly, thumping within his chest. “I– that’s not– I’m not an idiot, I just have a sense of awareness! And you know very well two can play this game.”

Moon shrugs, taking a bite of her ice cream nonchalantly. “You’re welcome to try anytime. I’ll just enjoy my ice cream.”

His whole being seizes up at the challenge. Her eyes are heated, just like when he’d face her in the League. It never fails to make him soar, because she’s just as great a Champion as she is a lover.

With decision, he grabs her jaw, and before she can get a word out, he kisses her, relishing in the lovely taste of her ice cream off her lips. She lets out a surprised hum, a hand halted in mid-air, before he retreats and licks his lips to relish in the taste.

Her throat bobs as she gulps. He stares at her, wiping a bead of sweat off his jaw. It’s hot outside.

They linger in the moment, letting it drizzle between them.

“Am I blunt, or am I not?” He’s shamefully breathless. Just the sight of her takes it away.

Moon purses her lips. “I– I suppose so. Just a little.”

A flicker of irritation courses through him. They can go back to their bench and keep enjoying the afternoon like a normal couple, and yet…

Gladion gazes at her, contemplating his possibilities. Her onyx eyes sparkle under the sun, her skin is slightly rosy, and her lips are plump and inviting. He can still feel them under his lips, how sweet she tasted.

His heart swells. He grunts, looking away with a gulp. “Gladion?”

Her voice. He had forgotten about that. He loves her voice. 

“Goddammit,” he mutters, turning to her again. He tilts her chin up, slanting a hand right beside her head on the juice bar. “You’ll be the end of me one day, I swear.”

And he kisses her again, softly so. She gasps against his mouth, and tentatively holds onto his shoulder. They move slowly, and he finds himself entranced in the pace, in how she sighs into the kiss, in how sweet she tastes and that he’d like to kiss her like this forever.

He cups her cheek, tilts her head, doesn’t rush the kiss. Their lips move leisurely. His free hand caresses her arm and pushes her closer, and she bunches the front of his shirt with her other hand as she tiptoes closer to his height. Something falls softly on the sand, but he pays no mind to that, too focused on the bundle of soft kisses and eager touches against him.

She gently nips his lower lip, and the feeling makes his stomach twist and his self-control stretch taut. A guttural groan rips through his throat, and she giggles.

How can he deny that he’s absolutely in love with her when he’s melting against her? Does she know that he doesn’t mind being gentle with her? Does she feel the same way?

Moon pulls away, much slower than ever, and there’s merely an inch of air between her. She looks up at him, breathless, and he gulps at the sight. Her cheeks are adorably rosy.

Gladion never thought romance and soft loving touches would blow him away, but he finds himself absolutely enamored with this side of things.

Judging by how she’s looking at him, smiling shyly, she seems to feel the same. 

“T-That was new,” she whispers. Her eyes travel down, and she gasps. “Oh.”

Gladion looks down, as well, only to find their hands tightly entwined. Despite their intricate and complicated relationship, they’ve never held hands; they weren’t supposed to be anything but heartless lovers seeking heated affection.

And now, here they are, being anything but that.

In the distance, he hears the ring of a bell, the cry of a happy Mantine splashing in the sea. He looks over his shoulder to find people gathering at the shore.

He caresses her knuckles with his thumb, hesitant.

Nobody will know it’s them.

Gladion tugs them away from the shade and strolls to the contest. He refuses to look at her lest she finds the shameful red tinting his cheeks. “C’mon. We have a race to win.”

“Wait, we’re still–!” Moon squeals as Gladion pushes her to his side.

“Let’s act like a normal couple for once,” he grumbles, pushing his baseball cap further over his head. “We can talk about it later.”

Moon laughs, but doesn’t say anything against the idea. She gives his hand a little squeeze, and when they reach the crowd queuing for the contest, he squeezes back, tracing her knuckles with his thumb absent-mindedly as she leans against him.

If this is what it means to be actually dating… he might need to reconsider their conditions.

[emerysmerkin]

The Holiday: Chapter 9

A Welcome Respite

It must be getting late in the afternoon and neither of them have left the bed. Well they had but against the wall and dresser doesn’t count. After they returned to the bed to catch their breath and revel in their post sex ecstasy, there was a polite knock on the door. Amy covered them both with the bedsheets for reasons unbeknownst to Ash. “Come in.”

The servants enter with a plate of lemon chicken judging by the smell. “Your evening meal.” The small Orisian human is dismissed by Amy and leaves. His lover wastes no time pouncing on the food, like a panther on its prey. Ash enjoys the enthusiasm she does everything with, like whatever is right in front of her is the most important thing on the plane.

She already started dissecting the meat with the nobles eating utensils before Ash could even work out how to operate them.   "Mmm, I need to find Emery some nice wine" Once finished speaking Amy returned to her chicken, eating it like it is the first meal she's had in days. Watching her eat with such ferocity gives him a pang of guilt from feeding her the chilli without letting her try the spice beforehand.   "Tortillilya has many places to find good vintages. I can show you them if you wish. I am normally suspicious of things Emery does but so far this house has been pleasant." He was dubious at first when the two of them arrived at the building, thinking it will be reams of protocol of etiquette. There has been very little of that, even then Amy deals with it. How she remembers all these things is beyond Ash "Yes please. I had backup plans for when he fucked with us but they were nothing like this. Except for the married thing, he's helped a lot" Ash is still trying to remove the flesh from the bone of his chicken using these unwieldly utensils and it takes him some time before he continues the conversation. Amy makes the wielding of them look effortless and graceful while he fails to master them. "And the names, he is aware I have no last name." "I doubt they'd have permitted us in the house if you didn't have a last name" "Strange rules." He noticed Amy's plate is empty and she is now looking at his with hungry eyes, or perhaps she is looking at his nude form under the plate. It wouldn't be the first time she's looked at him like that, not even today. She sighs, before grabbing her plate and standing up. She quickly puts on some sort of gown, his shirt it appears, and heads towards to door. "Where are you going?" "To get more food. I'm so hungry! I'm going to find a maid" He looks at his own and weighs up the pros and cons of not eating all his chicken and Amy being dressed, his loins prevail over his stomach. "You may have mine." "Don't be silly. I'll be back in a minute. There'll be a maid loitering down the hall for our plates." She slips out the door. The decision was moot; he’s left alone with the food. Perhaps it’s for the best, it is very nice, better than he could ever make.

Ash is washing down his meal with some wine when Amy gets back. "They're bringing another course and dessert. Yay!" More mirth, he feels the smiles that come so easily to her are starting to wear off on him. "I am surprised you are so hungry, we had a large lunch." Amy raises an eyebrow at him, before stripping off again, her pale skin glows as the afternoon sun beats through the window onto her. "I always eat a lot after a big climb. And I'm a halfling, we love food." He remembers the halflings he used to sail with and they were the same. Ash tries to avoid relying on stereotypes but he hasn’t yet found a halfling who doesn’t eat a lot. "Yet you are so small, you would think you eat less." She gets back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her neck, the scene is inviting but he has food he must finish and attempt not to get any on the bed. "Mannistone says halflings have a super quick metabolism, something to do with energy expenditure. I don't know. He says lots of big important words, it's easier to just tune him out sometimes. Anyway, it makes me the perfect sentient test subject" This Mannistone always seems to know a lot and is never shy with sharing it. Ash finds that he’s liking Amy’s previously dead friend less and less, but Amy says she can trust him and Ash trusts Amy.

She grins at him before frowning at the door "I wonder how long it'll take for the next course." Amy continues to baffle him, distracted instantly by food even though she just ate, Ash has seen the lights in the south, storms that disappear without any indication they were ever there and islands on the backs of turtles. Nothing astounds him more than his lover’s crazy and endearingly erratic behaviour. "I do not know; I am still eating mine." "I know. You eat so slooooowwwww. It makes it too easy to steal some." Ash is slightly annoyed, he offered his food and she declined. He protects his plate "Do not steal my food." "I wasn't going to!" She raises her hands in surrender. He’s suspicious but accepts, Amy doesn't lie. Just in case he speeds up his eating. Amy giggles, her soft laugh floats around the room. He tries to understand what is funny and quickly gives in.

As he's finishing up, she stretches slowly, Ash watches the Amy shaped mound under the bed sheets spread out. "Did you order one course or two?" She chuckles again, "I didn't order anything, we aren't in a tavern. They'd already planned the three-course meal. Meals are planned in a household like this about a month in advance, depending on whether the lady of the house wants to check the menu. They'd have had every meal planned out for us as soon as they knew we were coming" Ash frowns, wondering how people can live their entire lives under this level servitude. On a ship meals are planned out by the cook, based on dietary needs and supplies, but they have a great deal of authority and answer to few. Not like these servants always, bowing, averting their gaze and apologising for nothing.

Amy nudges against him before laying her head on his arm, "You ok? Why are you frowning?" "What makes the people who work here so devoted to the master of the house and us by extension?" She sits up and he can see the process of her piecing together a response play over her face. She always carefully words her answers and he appreciates her patience with him. "I can only tell you from my experience. We had some families in our house who had served us for generations. We had servants who a member of the household had helped in some way, so they're paying back their debt the only way they know how. For the most part though, it's the money. Serving in a house like this is the best wage a lot of people can get, and the mistress and master of the house will hardly use it. My serving staff in Baelden City will be having a great time." The whole time she’s saying this Amy does her arm movements which as far as Ash can tell has no correlation to what she is saying. It’s enjoyable to watch, like a dance performance from a far-off land. Ash mulls over what Amy said for a moment. It makes sense, for the most part. "I accept that answer. Do you know they are having a great time?" "No, but they'll have been paid for five years without having to deal with me. No mistress of the house means they can run themselves and I left behind a very nice steward to manage it all in my absence. Unless my mother took over, then they'll be earning their money" Ash could never have a servant. Servitude without loyalty, it’s all very alien to him. This is partly why he does not like other drows, they always seem to talk to him about servants or in some cases slaves, the latter he removes their limbs for.

"You don't seem satisfied with my answer" He became so engrossed in his animosity towards his own race he forgot he was still talking to Amy. "Your answer seems logical enough, I find the concept very strange if we ever retire to land I do not want servants." "Not even a cook? I'll grow old before you and I'll need a cook. I used to think a person not having servants was strange. It was all I knew. People were split into nobility and servants to me when I was a child." The fact that one could not start life as a servant and rise to the ranks of a noble was everything wrong with that system in his opinion. "I do not know how old I am, I may grow old before you. I may have already grown old and kept alive by some unknown spell." "I don't believe the latter. I've seen your aura, there’s no necromancy or spellcraft there" She has a point. "More importantly, it matters not if you grow old before me. Unless we are on a ship I will always be cooking for you." "I wouldn't ask you to come to land to look after me in old age. Wow, this conversation has turned melancholic. Anyway, it's something we don't have to worry about for at least a hundred and something years. I'm probably not going to live that long" She kisses him briefly, it’s soft and it brings a tingling sensation to his lips. Someone knocks and she pulls away instantly. "Food!"

Amy dons his shirt again to answer the door, Ash's empty plate in hand. Two maids usher in with wine and an overladen plate. They both seem uncomfortable with his nudity and are trying not to look at him. He expected they would be used to it by now. "This is more than I anticipated, I hate to waste food. Are you hungry enough to manage more than half?" The maids falter at his words and Amy automatically takes over, "Place it on the dresser please. Thank you for the wine. If it isn't too much trouble, could you wait a couple of hours before bringing the dessert? It seems my husband is full" The maids do as she says without a word and curtsey before leaving the room, Amy turns around. "Ash! Please wait till they've left the room before you start talking badly about the food" He doesn't understand all these protocols, it irritates him. "I said there is a lot of it. It is no comment on its quality." "I know. But to them it sounds like a passive aggressive jibe. It's fine. Don't worry. Just eat what you want. The rest will likely be given to the serving staff. Nothing goes to waste." She pours them both a glass of wine and brings his over to the bed. When he takes it she goes to get the platter. The wine is dry and Orisian, made from skinned green grapes. He remembers that Eard put an embargo on this white wine in his early days on The Red Reaver. They would do smuggling runs every so often and get a small share of the wine. It brings back memories of those days on the deck sailing through rocky waters in the dead of night, tense but not unpleasant memories.

The plate contains a salad with lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, cucumber and various other fruits. Ash always enjoyed salad, a rarity on a ship due to its perishability, he picks up a handful, forgoing the cutlery, and starts eating. Amy smells a pepper before moving them all away from the food she wants, a look of disgust on her face. She must associate it with the ones he collected on the mountain, though that’s a lowland pepper and has no heat. "It is not like the other peppers. It will not burn you." "You didn't think the last one would be so bad either. It smells similar. I don't like it." She picks up a piece of cucumber and smells it before frowning again. "It taints everything it touches" No wonder she can’t cook, Amy has obviously no concept of the basics of the interactions of flavour. "It adds flavour to the whole dish, I will exchange the peppers for my dessert." "You don't want your dessert?” She drops the cucumber with her face scrunched up with distaste. “We don't have to exchange, I'm not eating them full stop." Ash is trying to be nice, he has observed people being nice and this is one of his attempts at replicating it. He guesses that, from Amy’s reaction, it didn’t work. He’ll continue to learn how to do it until he gets it right. "Do you not want my dessert?" "Well… maybe" Nice is hard. "Yes or no?" "Yes, but only if you don't want it.” She says very quickly before smiling broadly at him, “You don't even know what it is" "I will probably not want it anyway. I cannot eat as much as you."

Amy shrugs, picking up a bit of lettuce and smelling it before putting it back and pushing the platter towards Ash, for someone who loves food she can be picky "Your species is slower, it makes sense you don't eat very much. I think. Mannistone doesn't eat much either." Ash thinks back to all the times she has returned to him thin and malnourished, the fact that she loves eating copious amounts of food makes it even more remarkable that Amy puts herself in these situations. "You can eat, I would not want you to be sad." He makes a mental note, when she is with him and there is food plentiful to make sure she is always well-fed. Ash thinks he does that anyway, but now it will always be forethought. "I'm not sad. I have everything I could want here." She is satisfied, a worry he's always had is being unable to satisfy her. His life is relatively quiet and she is always putting herself in danger. Amy says she’s doing it for her friend but Ash suspects she would be bored otherwise, a feeling he has become accustomed to over the last two years. "Except without the peppers." "Nah, the peppers make you like it more. If you're happy, I'm happy." She gives him her easy coming smile. He uses that smile like gulls, when you see it you are close to home.