#but the brain is gonna do what it wants and keels making me second guess myself

[vodkacheesefries]

I keep getting stuck in this whole "man I really hate my boobs and can vividly imagine my quality of life, self confidence, and body image immediately improving upon getting top surgery but what if I don't actually want top surgery and I'm lying to myself" spiral and it's ANNOYING

[bandersnatchmywigho]

Henry Cavill Imagine - In the Night

A/N: I originally intended this to just be a fluff, but it evolved into something more

Summary: Henry has to pull you away from your hours of gaming on his new PC.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Requested: No

Word count: 1,927 words

Warnings: Strong language, unprotected sex, and Arthur Morgan

You were sat at Henry’s computer, deeply focused on the game in front of you. You were hunched over in his chair, not resting your back on the backing or your feet on the floor. You quite literally looked like Sméagol, but you were too distracted to pay attention to your shitty posture. Arthur Morgan galloped away on his horse on the screen in front of you, a bounty tied to the back of his horse. You were just about to turn the bounty in when you felt an embrace from behind and someone’s lips kissing your neck.

“Fuck!” You yelled, dropping your controller and headphones in the process. Your heart pounded against your chest and blood rushed to your ears. Your hand clutched your rapidly moving chest and your feet were back on the floor. You took a second to collect yourself before turning to the laughing person behind you. 

Henry was keeled over in laughter and pointing at you. “That’s not funny, Henry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you complained, folding your arms. He wiped the tears from his eyes before standing up from his crouched position on the floor. He continued to silently laugh for a bit while leaning over to console you by kissing you on the forehead.

“C’mon, baby. It’s time to go to bed. It’s almost 2 am,” he said. You yawned in response and earned another chuckle out of him.

You sighed in defeat as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes: “Yeah, I guess so.” You turned back to the computer and exited out of the game before shutting the computer down. You stared at the black screen in resignation for a bit before he nudged you to get up. Spinning around in the chair, you lifted up your arms, motioning for him to pick you up.

“Are you serious?” He looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Pleaseeeeeee,” you pleaded. He thought to himself for a few seconds before scooping you up bridal style. You screeched in delight and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him all over his face, his neck, his lips and snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. A laugh came from deep within his chest as he continued walking towards the bedroom. He gently laid you on your side and pulled the blanket out from under you before joining you underneath it.

You both assumed your usual sleeping positions: him laying on his back with one arm around you and you laying across his chest and tangling your legs with his.

“Hmm this is nice,” you hummed. He gently stroked your hair to which you moaned a bit. His grip tightened and he dug his nails a bit deeper with the next stroke. You moaned louder this time, your ulterior motives becoming more clear.

You turned in his arms and moved forward to meet his lips. He gladly kissed back as you pressed your face into his. It was gentle kissing at first, mostly testing the waters until he slipped his tongue into your mouth. As you fought to dominate the kiss again, the long forgotten grip on your hair returned and pulled your head back. You gasped in response and looked down at him through bleary eyes. His eyes were dark and lips were swollen.

“Get on your back,” he instructed. You obliged as he assumed his position over you, straddling your legs between his. He dipped down and continued to kiss you with the same fervor as before.

“Henry,” you moaned into his mouth and he moaned back. He broke away to kiss down your jaw and neck. Wet kisses littered your throat and clavicle as he continued his pursuit down your body. His hands were everywhere at once before finding their place at the hem of your shirt. He slowly lifted it up, urging you to take it off. You lifted your head and arms to remove it before tossing the shirt somewhere in the darkness of the bedroom. He stood up for a second to remove his before returning to your body.

You reach behind yourself to unclip your bra and were met with an onslaught of kisses and nips as soon as your breasts were freed. Your hand shot up to the back of his neck and pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck. Henry nipped and sucked at your left breast while fondling and pinching the other. He did this for a while before switching and paying the same amount of love and attention to your right one.

“Fuck, why are you so good at that?” You gasped. He laughed darkly and started moving further down your body. He pulled your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. You suddenly realized how exposed you now were and attempted to close your legs in embarrassment.

“No no, don’t do that, baby. Let me see you,” Henry said, opening your legs again. Wetness dripped down your pussy and you felt it pulsating with heat and desire. He nudged your legs wider before dipped his head down to face it. You looked up to the ceiling and shuddered as he withheld himself from indulging so quickly. All you could feel was the breath from his mouth fanning rhythmically on you. You arched your back in an attempt to move closer to his mouth, but all you got was a heavy arm placed over your hips, pinning you down to the mattress.

“You didn’t think I was gonna give it to you that easy, huh? I’m just gonna sit here and watch you squirm until you say what you want me to do,” He teased.

You whined in response, but refused to concede. You weren’t going to beg.

“C’mon pretty girl. Just say the words and I’ll do anything you want me to. Say it. Say ‘Henry, I want you to lick my pussy and make me feel good.’”

You scoffed and folded your arms, but inside, your brain was screaming at you to just say it. Get over your pride and give in.

You must have waited a while because, all of the sudden, Henry was moving away from you.

“No no no, don’t leave! I’ll say it. I’ll say it,” you reacted. He looked you directly in the eyes and patiently waited. Your confidence diminished immediately at the intense eye contact you two shared and you found yourself right back where you started.

“Fuck,” you quietly cursed to yourself, looking away. Henry said nothing and made no movement otherwise. A few beats. “Ummmmm… HenryIwantyoutolickmypussyandmakemefeelgood,” you said through your teeth. Your eyes roamed the room and looked at everything instead of him.

“Huh? What was that? I didn’t hear you,” He said, putting his hand up to his ear. You scoffed again and repeated it in the same exact manner. Henry turned your face towards his: “Say it again and look me in the eyes when you do.”

You gulped.  “Henry, I want you to lick my pussy and make me feel good.” 

“Fuck, that’s all you had to say,” he groaned before quickly assuming his position from before. You had no time to reply before you felt his slick tongue slide achingly slow up your pussy. You were paralyzed with pleasure and let out a loud moan. He swirled his tongue around your clit and gently massaged it. Your legs shuddered and your hand found its place back on the nape of his neck. You guided his head where you wanted it.

His tongue was all over you. At some point he had added his fingers, but you were too preoccupied with the bliss he was bringing you to notice. It was all too much at once. His mouth. His fingers. His slick tongue. All of it bringing you to a peak.

“Henry, I’m gonna come,” you said frantically. His unrelenting motions continued and without fail, you came all over his tongue. The pleasure was blinding white as he drew more and more out of you. Your legs shook and your back arched off the bed. You moaned his name over and over. Eventually you pulled his head off of you as you become oversensitive. He had a big smile on his face, but you wiped it off with a kiss, tasting yourself on him.

You reached down to cradle his hard-on through his sweatpants and he moaned into your mouth. You continued to grope him: “I want you to take these off for me.” The previous embarrassment you felt shed off like skin from a snake.

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice,” he responded gleefully. You stared down as he removed his pants and boxers to see him rock hard. He kicked the ends off his feet before returning to you, stroking his dick and spreading his precum down the shaft. Thank God I’m on birth control, you thought to yourself. He was well-endowed.

You moaned as he slowly dragged the head of his cock through your wetness. He gently teased your clit for a couple seconds before moving down to your entrance. “You ready?” He asked.

“Yes,” you stated desperately. He slowly pushed in and you both groaned in unison. “Fuck, Henry. You’re so fucking big.”

Henry kissed you in response and pushed until his pelvis met yours. With his dick now fully sheathed within you, he slowly pulled out before slowly pushing back in. He slowly found a rhythm that had you both moaning messes. He ground his hips into yours as you clenched to meet him. He stuttered a bit before saying “Fuck, don’t do that, baby.”

You giggled before he hit a spot in you that had you seeing stars. You moaned his name and he took that as his cue to keep aiming there. Your back arched and made the pleasure even more unbearable. Searing hot pleasure starting coursing through your veins from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. Your eyes went completely black and you couldn’t distinguish where Henry began and you ended.

“Oh fuck you’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” he laughed at your state. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you impossibly closer towards him. Nothing could slip past the little distance left between your bodies. You were molded together like clay. He continued his strokes and you found that coil deep within you finally snapping. You moaned loudly as pleasure overcame you and Henry swallowed those moans with a deep, passionate kiss. You became putty in his arms as he chased his high right after you. His movements sped up and your body involuntarily clenched around him, speeding up the process for him. He came with a gasp and his seed filled your insides. You leaned up to kiss him again and he returned it. After a few kisses here and there, he finally pulled out and dropped down to the bed next to you.

“You did so good, Henry,” you cooed as he kissed the top of your head. “You too, Y/N.”

He untangled himself from your arms to stand up and search for a warm washcloth. When he returned, he cleaned you up first and then himself before rejoining you in the bed.

“Okay, now it’s really time for bed,” he stated, indicating the clock that glowed with the time 3:12 am. “Oh fuck,” you laughed.

“‘Oh fuck’ is right. It’s time to go to sleep. Good night,” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.”

Henry Cavill tags: @seriouslygoodlookinggents @stephartrave​ @icygurl56​

[novelconcepts]

anything that involves freckles. go nuts

Gonna go ahead and double up on a recent request of @scavenger-rey‘s, while we’re at it. Just for giggles.

Jamie has a surprising number of freckles. Not that it’s Dani’s business what hidden secrets are stamped into her skin. Not that Dani needs to be looking at her skin at all. 

Not that she can help it, either, with Jamie doing things like this. 

“You look warm, Miss Clayton,” Hannah points out, depositing a tray upon the little table with an arch smile. “Perhaps you’d like to take a leaf out of our groundskeeper’s book?”

Dani shoots her a sharp look, remembering just in time two very important details: one, that she has only known Hannah for two months, and therefore is not quite at the slapping at her arm in frustration stage of friendship; and two, that Hannah does not know what’s going on in her head every time Jamie’s around.

Hannah might suspect with the certainty of a particularly clever detective breaking down a fourth-grader’s criminal activity, but she does not know, and that has to count for something.

“She doesn’t--usually do this.” Heaven help her, was that her voice? Her voice, which is generally high and quick and never tinged with that particularly raw shade? 

“She does when it’s hot enough.” Hannah sounds entirely unimpressed. “Every time, I have to spend half the afternoon explaining to Flora why she’s required to keep all her clothes on.”

Someone should probably have that talk with Jamie, Dani thinks wildly. Someone should definitely explain to Jamie, in no uncertain terms, how dangerous it is for her to be waltzing around the grounds in overalls and a sports bra, her hair pulled out of her face. Someone should definitely get across to Jamie how it is utterly distracting, and not the least bit professional for someone like Dani--who is a co-worker, who is meant to be keeping children out of trouble, and has somehow found it’s much harder to keep herself out of it instead--to deal with.

“Water,” Hannah advises. “Before you keel over. Would you like me to tell her it’s making you uncomfortable?”

Judging by the raised brow, the tilt of Hannah’s smile, the barely-restrained note of amusement in her voice, it’s clear she knows uncomfortable isn't exactly the word. Dani shakes her head. 

“No. I’m. I’m fine.”

“Ah,” Jamie says cheerfully, right on cue. “Hannah, my love, you are a godsend.”

She’s just there, pressed nearly to Dani’s back, reaching over for a glass of ice water. She’s there, and her skin is rosy with the lightest sunburn, and Dani thought Hannah was being cheeky about the whole keeling over jab, but on second thought--

“All right, Poppins?” Jamie’s free hand has wound around her forearm, she realizes. Jamie is looking at her with mild concern, she realizes. Probably because she is quite literally swaying in place.

“Hot,” she croaks. There are freckles on Jamie’s hand, too--and wrist, splashed at random up her arm. There are more than a few on the bare curve of her shoulder. She’s still mentally tallying them up when Jamie presses her gently toward a chair. 

“Didn’t dress for it,” she observes, looking Dani over with worried eyes. “Should take off that jumper before it kills you.”

Have to keep it on, Dani thinks nonsensically--though, it’s true, she had dressed for the gray of this morning, not the heatwave the afternoon has become. Still. Have to keep it on, and maybe add a few more layers, besides, because she can’t let herself linger on what she might look like to Jamie otherwise.

Can’t linger on how Jamie’s eyes might drift over her skin if she were to strip down to a tank top and shorts. Can’t linger, worst of all, on how it might feel if Jamie were to pull her aside--

“Poppins?” Jamie is waving a hand up and down in front of her face. “Right, enough of this. With me.”

There’s a gentle command in her voice Dani finds herself following without thinking. She catches herself taking two steps away from the chair, pauses, stands there looking helplessly back at Hannah.

“I,” Hannah says magnanimously, “think I can manage the children. Go.”

“C’mon,” Jamie adds, and now her hand is in Dani’s somehow, her fingers tightening around Dani’s like this is the most normal use of her body. She gives a light pull, and Dani is suddenly trailing along at her heels, trying desperately not to stare at the back of her neck, the skin shining up from the break in denim at her side. 

Freckles, she thinks wildly. I shouldn’t know she has freckles. 

“You still with me?” Jamie is tugging her, she registers, toward the greenhouse. She gives a shaky nod. “Good. Would hate to have to give you mouth to mouth.”

“You don’t give mouth to mouth for sunstroke,” Dani replies in a voice she still doesn’t recognize. Jamie sends a smile over her shoulder.

“No? My mistake.”

It’s not flirting, Dani tells herself. Jamie is her co-worker, one who keeps to herself and doesn’t have any reason at all to flirt. Jamie is just being kind, worrying over her now, because Dani’s gone and lost her mind over skin and freckles and the spot at the back of Jamie’s neck that leads her brain helplessly into wonder what that tastes like territory--

“In,” Jamie says, gesturing to the door of the greenhouse. “Got a spare set of clothes you can borrow.”

“I have clothes,” Dani points out. Jamie laughs.

“I’ve seen your clothes. They’re not going to help today.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” This is good. This, a mild flush of irritation, distracts nicely from the way Jamie looks crouching beside a trunk Dani’s never noticed beneath one of the tables. 

It almost distracts from the way Jamie looks up at her, a teasing grin playing around her mouth. 

“They’re well and good,” she says, “for carting around after the little beasts. Here. Got nothin’ in pink, ‘m afraid.”

She’s holding up a white t-shirt with the sleeves shorn off--the frayed threads at the shoulders suggest Jamie cut them free herself, possibly in the middle of a workday--and a pair of denim shorts. Unable to find a polite method of declining, Dani accepts. 

“I’ll...just go up to the house to change, I guess--”

“Nah.” Jamie twists around, hands in her pockets, making a point of gazing off in the opposite direction. “Silly to waste the time. Go on, before Hannah thinks I’ve lured you off to commit a murder...”

It’d be kinder, some part of Dani thinks. Standing with Jamie’s clothes clamped against her chest, sweat creeping down the back of her neck, watching Jamie tip her head back and whistle, is entirely painful. 

Particularly when Jamie, evidently registering the lack of rustling fabric, chances a glance over her shoulder and adds, “Unless you need help there, Poppins?”

Dani grimaces. Jamie grins. For a moment, she thinks the rest of the afternoon will become this: staring at one another in a sweltering greenhouse, Jamie watching her like she knows exactly what Dani has been trying so hard not to think about lately.

Jamie smiling like she’s got no problem with Dani counting up all those freckles. 

“Okay, okay, turn around.” She heaves a sigh, waiting for Jamie to rotate back before hauling the sweater over her head. It’s impossible to deny the relief that floods in the minute she’s free of it, and how much better Jamie’s shirt feels against her sticky skin. 

The same cannot be said for the shorts.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she says before she can stop herself. They are, admittedly, nearly the same height and close enough in build for most things--but does Jamie really wear these? 

“Only when it’s this fuckin’ hot,” Jamie says, still facing the other way. Dani closes her eyes. “Ah, you didn’t mean to say that part out loud, did you?”

“Just--they’re so--” They’re not shorts, she thinks, trying to tug down the hem. They’re like two tiny squares of fabric haphazardly stitched together. The pockets are longer than the pants themselves, for Christ’s sake. “You wear these around people?”

“Just the ones I like,” Jamie says idly, and Dani hates herself a little for being disappointed she’s never seen them before. 

“I can’t face Hannah like this, she’ll laugh herself sick.”

Jamie, at last, twists at the waist. Her eyes drift down Dani’s frame, her lips parting slightly. 

“They, um. Feel less short when they’re on me.”

Dani is going to combust, and then there will be nothing to worry about. No freckles. No shorts. Certainly not the drag of Jamie’s eyes up her legs. Dani combusts here and now, and gets out of all of it almost painlessly.

“No, hey.” Jamie is closing the gap between them, reaching out. Her hands find Dani’s, prying her clawing fingers away from the hem of the shorts. “If you feel weird, you can put your jeans back on. Was only trying to...to help.”

Her voice has gone weirdly slack, Dani registers. Weirdly breathy. Her eyes are still wide, still fixed on Dani’s legs, a color rising in her cheeks that has little to do with her sunburn. 

“What?” Dani asks--less because she wants to know, and more because she can’t stand not knowing. Jamie’s fingers are soft around her own, her breath seeming to hitch in her chest.

“Nothing. You, ah. Have freckles.” Jamie gives her head a shake, blinking rapidly. Her hands fall away from Dani’s. “Never noticed before.”

She’s staring at Dani like she’s never seen her before, and Dani suddenly wonders what courage would look like in this sweltering room. If it would look like hooking a hand around the strap of Jamie’s overalls. If it would look like pulling Jamie in. Letting Jamie press her back against the nearest table. Letting Jamie’s fingers trace up beneath the hem of these ludicrously-short shorts. 

Courage, she thinks, would taste like sweat and mint, like freckles mapped under a curious tongue. It would sound like Jamie’s voice muffled against her neck, the snarl of a zipper lowering in an otherwise-silent jungle of glass and greenery, the thump of a shirt tossed recklessly to the ground--

“Right,” Jamie says, and swings back a step. Her smile is sitting crookedly on her lips, a funny little tilt that makes her look younger, somehow. “I should--should get back to work. Just. Just toss ‘em wherever.”

Courage, Dani thinks, wanting so badly to grasp her shoulder as she turns. She could. She could close her fingers around nearly-bare skin and sink her mouth against the back of Jamie’s neck. She could slide a hand up Jamie’s stomach, pull her backward, feel her tremble under a hungry kiss tattooed to the freckles at her nape. 

She could. 

If she were just a little braver. 

But Jamie is already walking away, one hand tousling her hair nearly out of its bun. Jamie is already walking away, faster than Dani’s ever seen her walk anywhere. 

You, ah. Have freckles, she’d said in a voice like a woman dreaming. Dani bites her lip. 

The shorts, she thinks, could have their uses after all.

[listentothelittlebird]

So I wrote Waterbender Jason Todd and that was a blast (the series is Gotham’s White Lotus!) but I went through a ton of drafts for how Jason got reintegrated into the Batfam - and here’s one of the drafts!

Word Count: 2760 words

I like this one because it’s dramatic :) Enjoy!

(This draft essentially diverges directly after Burning Iceberg - some of the diversions can be seen in the tags!)

An explosion, Oracle’s words quickly filtering into their comms.

“I have eyes on the combustion bender. Looks like he’s still looking to complete his contract.”

Batman’s voice came next, barking an order for Robin to return to the Batcave.

“But-”

“Little bird, you should probably listen to the B-man,” Red Hood jumped in, “Seriously. Lay off this one for all of us, alright?”

Robin huffed, but obeyed.

The explosions followed Robin’s movements until Batman was able to intercept the bender. Red Hood dropped down soon after. Batgirl had taken to accompanying Robin back to the Batcave. Nightwing informed them that he was on his way to Gotham, likely to check up on Robin for his own assurance.

The blasts caused Red Hood to dart to one side, Batman to the other. Before the smoke filling the empty warehouse could clear, a blade was pressed to Jason’s neck.

“Where is my son?” the voice hissed. The Pit was long gone, but that did nothing to quell the snarl that answered the question.

“Nice to see you too, Talia,” Jason spat out. He could guess why Talia had come to Gotham - investigating the new mask that held his build, as well as the absence of one eight-year-old after his most recent mission.

“Where-” the sword dug deeper, “-is. My. Son.”

“Where do you think?” Jason snarked, “C’mon, Tals, you can’t be that much of an idiot. Detective it out yourself.”

Talia growled. “You poisoned my child’s thoughts,” Talia murmured darkly, “If not for you, Damian would have completed his mission successfully, and been ever closer to becoming a satisfactory Heir. I should have recognised your meddling from the start.”

Jason chuckled. The smoke was clearing, now, and from the comms, it seemed that Batman was apprehending the combustion bender. He hoped Oracle could hear him and had alerted the others.

“You kept Damian from his father,” Jason stated evenly, “The least I could do was tell the kid about his Dad and his brothers. You know, the brothers you never told him about? Not to mention his sister, too.”

“He is the blood-son.”

“He is the youngest son, and you’re gonna have to get through me and the rest of us if you so much as think of hiding him away again.”

Batman dropped down in front of them. Talia’s sword was still dangerously close to his neck, digging in slightly, nearly drawing blood.

“Back away from the Hood, Talia,” Batman growled, “This is between you and me.”

Talia stilled.

“You haven’t told him,” Talia realised.

Shit.

The sword was humming, growing warmer. Jason could feel the heat on his skin.

“You told me you wanted revenge. You told me you wanted your replacement gone,” Talia was on a roll, now, grasping greedily for control, “You told me you wanted him to pay. For not avenging you. For leaving The Joker walking.”

Jason shuddered at the mention of the Rogue. He could feel Talia’s shark-like grin at his neck.

“A shame,” she tutted, “You realised, didn’t you? That he never cared for you. No wonder you have yet to tell him the truth.”

Batman took a stuttering step forward. Jason tried to control his breathing, the blade heating up enough to burn. She was trying to get under his skin. Trying to…

Jason made sure to inject rage and malice into his next words, “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Talia.”

Underneath his jacket was a flask of water for emergencies.

“Oh?” Talia hummed menacingly, “And what may that be?”

Jason moved, breaking out of the hold. The sword flared into flames.

The jet of water knocked Talia back several paces, but not before she could take a slash at his helmet. The material melted into his lenses, and Jason cursed, ripping off the helmet just in time to block her blade with an ice-coated arm.

“The spirits. That was you.”

“Bingo. Looks like the Pit didn’t melt out your brains.”

Jason met the flurry of attacks steadily, bending the broken ice into water blasts and back to ice once more, dodging the flames and ignoring the singed marks on his clothes.

Another explosion. Jason’s gaze darted just enough to see that the combustion bender had returned, hands bound but still conscious.

“I should have never helped you,” Talia stated, a tone of finality, “It’s only right I bury you again.”

A bout of flames aimed for his face, forcing Jason to roll backwards, just out of reach. By the time he got back to his feet, Talia was standing beside the combustion bender, who was already in stance. Another explosion sounded, right above him.

Jason only had time to curl up and erect a crystal of ice around him before the warehouse roof fell.

He could taste the smoke on his lips, the dust of wood and cement. He waited one, two seconds, straining against the weight of the building against the ice, before digging into his jacket, pulling out a small comms unit and stuffing it into his ear.

“-you hear me? Hood!” Oracle was yelling.

“I’m under the warehouse,” Jason gasped out, coughing up the smoke and dirt and dust, “I’m- I’m underneath. I- please. Please get me out. Fuck.”

He was trembling. The ice creaked, painfully loud in the silence. 

“I can’t-” his lips moved without his permission, “-can’t do this again. Shit. I- don’t make me do this again.”

Distantly, he registered that his voice was no longer modulated, like it was in his helmet.

“I found him,” came Batman’s grunt, and if Jason had enough space within the ice, he would have keeled over in relief. The soil beneath him rumbled, but Jason had long come to associate this specific tremble with earthbending. The earth opened, and Jason gasped as he dropped into the ditch, which closed and engulfed him in darkness.

“B?” Jason whispered, the sound echoing. He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him as his breath quickened.

“It’s me, Hood,” Batman’s voice sounded, and Jason sobbed.

“I- shit. Shit.”

“It’s alright,” Batman soothed, “It’s-”

Batman cut himself off, coming to a stop just in front of where Jason was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to quell his panicked breathing.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Jason flinched as a flashlight was shined on his face, then gulped audibly as Batman visibly jolted back in shock. The light stayed trained on his face, even as Batman reached out slowly, as if scared he would disappear. His hand first found Jason’s arm, then his neck, pressing to his pulse, and then reached to his face, peeling off the red domino mask with a fragile touch.

A beat passed, where Jason stared into Batman’s cowl, desperately waiting for a reaction.

“Batman, what’s Hood’s status?” came through the comms.

“Jason?” he whispered. He tugged off his cowl, and Bruce’s eyes shone with flickering hope and brokenness. 

Jason sucked in gulps of air in between his hitched breaths, enough for him to rasp out one word, “Dad.”

The light moved away from his face, a black gauntlet grasping tightly onto his arm, nearly bruising in its grip, pulling him roughly forward. Jason lost his balance, tipping straight into a tight hug that knocked the breath out of him, just as it knocked the first tears loose.

“Dad,” he whispered again, the grip around him tightening somehow, “Dad.”

“Jason,” Bruce returned just as reverently, “Oh, son, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m-” Jason sobbed, gasping, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know… how… how to tell you. Didn’t know what to say. I-”

Bruce shushed him quietly, and Jason dissolved into tears in his father’s arms.

-

“Jason?” Bruce had whispered, and then the words through the comms were too muffled to make out.

“Batman? Batman, are you there?” Dick tried again, sharing another concerned look with Tim. Bruce had gone silent, save for words that were too hard for them to make out. Cass placed a steadying hand on Dick’s shoulder, a silent sign of support.

“Tune into Red Hood’s comms,” Oracle chimed abruptly. Dick frowned, but did as told. 

“-Dad,” the voice, unmodulated for the first time, cracked with emotion, and the two brothers froze. The voice bordered on familiarity, despite the lower tones and faint rasp. 

Damian, who had been inattentive to the audio up until that point, straightened abruptly from where he had been scrutinising a batarang. He was by their side in moments, focused intently on the blank screen of the Batcomputer as if it could provide him the answers of the universe. Cass looked on with narrowed eyes, picking up the tension in their stances, tension for different reasons.

“I’m sorry,” was heard, dissolving into incoherent phrases that were shushed by another voice. Bruce, Dick’s brain supplied. That was Bruce comforting Red Hood- comforting-

“I’m not hearing things, am I?” Dick’s voice trembled, humour falling flat. Tim’s face was pinched beside him, vaguely pale, likely mirroring his own. 

Beside them, Damian breathed deeply, in and out, and turned to them with a determined tilt to his frown.

“The brother I mentioned before,” Damian started, snapping Dick’s attention towards him, “The one who told me about the zoo, about hugs. He told me about you as well, Grayson.”

Damian met his eye with only a flicker of hesitation. “He told me you loved hugs, and other forms of physical affection. He told me you once ate a box of cereal and started doing cartwheels down the hallway. He said you taught him how to fly, and how to fall.”

“Prepare the medbay for smoke inhalation,” Batman’s voice intoned. Alfred had appeared on the steps to the Manor, already making his way towards the medical supplies. Tim and Cass shared a look, and followed.

“Jason Todd,” Dick blurted, Tim’s steps faltering, Cass freezing. Something clattered out of Alfred’s always-steady hands. “The brother you’re talking about. Is his name Jason Todd?”

Damian’s gaze, still wary and too-old from his childhood training, nodded with conviction.

-

Alfred paused at the bedside, taking a moment to stare at the absolute miracle in front of him, sleeping peacefully with the same expression he had once seen on a small malnourished boy. He had just managed to convince Master Bruce to wash up before staying vigil by Master Jason’s side, and Alfred was quietly glad for the moment to allow himself the time to take in Master Jason’s aged appearance.

Alfred rested a hand on Jason’s head, and allowed himself an indulgent brush through the young man’s hair, the tuft of white hair tangled into his raven hair. 

“My dear boy,” Alfred whispered, “Words cannot describe how glad I am, to see you alive.”

Master Jason twitched slightly, eyes flitting open just enough to take in Alfred’s face. A small smirk made its way to his lips, a greeting as much as it was a sign of his relief. Master Jason hummed out something intelligible, but Alfred shushed the boy, and his eyes easily slid shut once more.

-

Jason jolted awake with a gasp.

“Jay,” came a soft rumble, “Jaylad. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Jason flitted his gaze over the room, cataloguing everything he could see in the dim lighting, before familiarity met him with sudden certainty. His gaze drifted over to the speaker.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated softly, guiding Jason back to lying against the pillow.

“B-” Jason grimaced at his dry throat, “Bruce?”

Bruce offered him a cup of water. Jason squinted at it and lifted his hand, but Bruce’s hand lowered it before the water could so much as ripple. “No bending in the Manor,” Bruce huffed, his lips twitching into a small smile, “Alfred would have your head in no time.” Jason huffed a laugh as the cup was pressed into his hand.

When the cup had been emptied, Jason cast another glance over the room. It was Bruce’s bedroom, Bruce on a chair beside the bed, Jason in the bed, now propped up against the headboard.

“The bender,” Jason started, turning to eye Bruce, subconsciously checking for injuries. He had a nasty-looking bruise on his arm, but otherwise looked alright. 

“He got away,” Bruce stated, “With Talia.” Bruce paused, visibly reigning himself in, settling for, “Jason… I have many questions.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jason agreed with a cringe, “There’s… a lot to cover.”

He blinked then, perking up once more, “Damian. Can I see Damian?”

“Talia let you meet him,” Bruce guessed. Jason nodded distractedly, shuffling himself out of the covers and inching towards the edge of the bed. He paused to sniff the baggy shirt he was wearing, and blinked at Bruce. “Am I wearing your clothes?”

“You are,” Bruce confirmed, lip ticked up in amusement. There was a concerned glint in his eyes as Jason stood up, swaying through a head-rush. Bruce’s hands stuttered towards him, but hesitated. Jason took the initiative and wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, and Bruce hugged him back just as firmly.

“Damian’s having breakfast with the others,” Bruce spoke softly, “Are you… ready to see them? Or would you rather me bring Damian up alone?”

Jason hesitated. 

“I kind of owe them all answers, don’t I? Let’s just get it over and done with. Rip it off like a band-aid.”

Bruce hummed, lingering in the hug for a long moment before finally letting his arms go loose. Jason pulled away with a small smile, Bruce brushing a hand over his face with an overly tender expression.

There was vague scuffling coming from the kitchen.

“Quick, grab the coffee, Dami!” Dick hollered with a laugh, easily swiping Tim into the air and holding him over his shoulder. Tim twisted with a feral kick at Dick’s face, which he easily dodged by maneuvering until Tim’s arms were pinned and his legs stuck out too far to hit anything substantial. 

“Be careful, Masters,” Alfred called from where he was dealing with their pancakes, not once looking up to acknowledge the play-fighting.

Cassandra was watching from the side, the only one to acknowledge Bruce and Jason as they walked in, giving them a smile and a wave. She stepped towards Bruce first, pulling him into a short hug, and did the same for Jason. Jason froze unsurely, but Cassandra smiled into his collar and giggled. “Cass,” she murmured, pulling away to beam, “Hello, brother.”

Jason returned the smile tentatively. “Hello, sister,” he offered, Cass’ smile stretching wider. Bruce looked ready to burst with emotion.

Tim whined and slumped over in Dick’s grip as Damian, on Dick’s encouraging nod, poured away the coffee into the sink, “This is unfair! Absolutely unfair! It’s only been a week and I’m already suffering from middle-child syndrome. Unfair.”

Jason snuck up on Dick and pounced, tipping them both to the ground and grabbing Tim out of Dick’s hold. “Middle children have to stick together,” Jason nodded sagely, grinning widely as Tim stared down at him dazedly, from where he had ended up sprawled on top of him.

“Jay!” Dick chirped brightly, and Jason grunted as the older boy flopped on top of them both, “You’re awake!”

“Get off, Dickhead!” Jason managed to roll out from under him. One thing led to another, and suddenly Jason had himself wrapped in a Dick Grayson Hug that was definitely not stopping anytime soon. That was about the time he met Damian’s eye, and he gave the boy a warm smile.

“What did I tell you, Baby Bat?” he drawled, rolling his eyes and gesturing to Dick’s arms, “Dickie loves hugs. Can’t get away from him even if you tried.”

“Damn right,” Dick hummed happily, squeezing briefly, “You run now and I’ll hunt you down and hug you for even longer.”

Jason gave an answering pat to Dick’s shoulder in acknowledgement. To Damian, he shook his head in mock-annoyance. Damian stepped forward, then, and folded himself against Jason’s other side. Jason curled his arm around the boy, and Damian shoved himself more firmly against his side.

“Your eyes aren’t green,” Damian whispered. 

“No, they’re not,” Jason agreed, “I… it’s a long story, but I managed to get rid of the Pit rage, and got my bending back, while I was at it.”

“We have time,” Tim pointed out, settling himself on the ground in front of the small pile of pressed-together bodies, “I don’t think you’ll be extracting yourself from Dick anytime soon, either.”

Jason huffed, smiling softly. “I’ll start from the beginning, then.”

[ciggylungz]

Show me yours

Blurb night- 1.8k words

(Request: Maybe more catholic school H but there bestfriend and there both v innocent and its their first time trying _______ (whatever you want) just a thought? (For the possible blurb night.)

 “Did you hear what Lily was saying about Connor?”

y/n looked up when she heard Harry’s voice, the two of them in his room trying to finish their shared art project. They had to do a joint painting of the schools logo for the competition being held to pick a new art piece for the Catholic school. Y/n was currently trying to fix her minor mishap of mixing the purple too dark on the lower corner of the canvas.

“No? what happened?” her attention was divided between the art and Harry’s bite of gossip he was finding the correct verbiage for. “Lily said her and Connor did it!” his tone was slightly lower, whispering the last word so no one would hear a slight blush creeping onto his face. The revelation made the girl snap her head towards her best friend, eye’s widened a bit. The two of them were rather sheltered, they had attended the same private Catholic schools from the time they were in kindergarten up to the present as they were both in their second year of secondary school. The most rebellious thing they’ve ever really done was taking a second sip of the communion wine during mass, so hearing that their classmates may have had sex was very shocking to the pair.

“No way!” the project now took a backseat, y/n now fully invested in the drama Harry was relaying to her. “I swear! She said they did it in the bathroom!” , “Oh my gosh!...did she say anything like detailed?” the girl was just as nosy as her best friend. She wanted every drop of information she could squeeze from him. Harry smiled awkwardly, nervous repeating the words he’d heard from the two teens in question. “Uh…well she said they had s-sex in the bathroom, and Connor said she uh…’went down’ on him at his house..” while y/n knew the basics of sex, she didn’t exactly know much beyond ‘sex is between two married people and makes babies’ , so she questioned his revelation. “what does that mean?” , Harry wasn’t sexually experienced by any means, he was a kiss-less virgin but he would be lying if he said he didn’t know what certain sexual acts involved…he may be a good boy but he’s also a teenage boy with internet access.

His blush grew a few shades darker, opting to clear his throat and make sure the door was closed while he tried to find his voice again. “Uh..well-“ a uncomfortable chuckle escaped him while he tried to choke out the dirty words. “It’s when a girl puts their mouth on a boys private parts…” Y/n gawked at Harry, totally shellshocked at the fact that was a thing! She couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to do that, “Wait what?! Isn’t that dirty? Don’t you pee from there?!” the girl was now standing on her feet her innocent mind trying to comprehend this new information. “Well…yea but I don’t think it’s dirty? If you don’t shower maybe, and the boy doesn’t pee in their mouth…” a nervous hand reached up to scratch the back of Harry’s flushed neck.

“that’s so…weird….h-have you ever done that?” Y/n asked him with a slight bow of her head locking eyes with him, “No! I’ve never done it! I’ve just s-seen it before tha’s all…” the boy shifted uncomfortably, “You’ve seen it? Where?”

“in…porn”

Once again, a comically dramatic gasp ripped through the air from Y/n. she knew of porn, her brother had gotten caught watching it once and that’s the first time she found out people have sex on camera. That was another huge shock to her, yet this one seemed bigger.

“You watch porn?!”

“shush! you’re going to get me in trouble y/n” Harry shot her a glare, yanking her forward to sit on his bed with him, his palm moving to cover her mouth. “Don’t yell that! It’s a secret”  Harry cast a nervous glance towards his shut bedroom door before removing his hand from her face. Y/n giving his chest a nice swat with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that again, jerk” Harry simply rolled his eyes. “Then stop being so loud!”

Y/n pouted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. “Or what?” she challenged “Or ill glue your mouth shut.” His fingers moved to flick her forehead, which was a mistake since Y/n then chose to start yelling “MISS AN-“ yet she was silenced by his hand once more. “I’m serious Y/n stop it!”

Y/n suddenly got an idea, decided she’d bargain her way out of this one.

Harry knew that look, his eyes widened realizing she was about to suggest something that he may not want to hear. Y/n was a sweet girl, but she had a bit of a bossy side too.

“If you show me the video, I won’t tell.”

Well, Harry expected something, but definitely not that one. “W-wait what?” he couldn’t believe Y/n had just asked him to show her porn! What was he supposed to say? He knew if he showed her he’d have to take a cold shower, but he didn’t want his mom knowing he watched the videos either. “If you show me the video I won’t tell.” Her statement was very level, the angelic doe eyes coming back to persuade him, and well Harry was a sucker for that look.

__

Soon enough the pair were sat against his headboard, Harry’s laptop open to a private tab with Pornhub opened on it. He chose on of his favorites, a simple pretty tame blowjob video.

“are you sure you want to see it?” his palms were sweating, knees twitching every few minutes trying to control himself and keep his pants from tightening. “Play it, Harry.” Y/n took control, tapping the space bar to start the video.

The logo played before it got to the video, a man sitting on his couch filming his girlfriend kneeling in front of him slowly moving to undress the man in front of her. Y/n watched the screen intently while the woman went to work, tugging the mans cock free and stroking it but Y/n being Y/n the video didn’t suddenly change the atmosphere like it does in a romcom, instead she was full of questions and comments.

“Wow, I didn’t know boys privates looked like that. It looks kind of like a snake.” Harry was happy Y/n wasn’t making the situation too serious, laughing a little breaking the tense atmosphere listening to her talk. He tried to focus his gaze more on the wall in front of him then the porn playing on his computer so he didn’t pop a stiffy in front of her. “Uh…kinda? I guess…” , “Does your penis look like that too?”

Harry choked on air a bit, suppressing a cough. He sweats he can feel himself burning alive from the blush on his face. “I don’t think my penis looks like a snake y/n, no. I think it looks like a penis.” His response got him a ‘hmph’ from his friend which he of course, laughed at. Yet he wasn’t entirely prepared for her next sentence.  

“Show me yours?”

This time Harry’s eyes were the ones wide as saucers, his jaw slightly slack and body gone tense. “What?!” Y/n giggled, finding his reaction a bit silly since they were already watching two people engage in oral, how is this any more shocking? “What? Show me yours” she shrugged slightly, Harry was trying to keep his head from exploding but an idea popped into his brain right before the urge to combust took over.

“I show you mine, you show me yours?”

“Harry I don’t have a penis.” Y/n replied with a ‘duh’ eye roll, causing an annoyed groan to come from her friend. “I am aware of that, smarty pants. I mean…if I show you my penis, you show me your boobs.”

He expected to get a smack or a immediate refusal from her, but surprisingly Y/n nodded, “That’s fair, I’m not putting your penis in my mouth just for the record.” She gave him a pointed look as her hands traveled up to loosen her uniform tie and start fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

The boy felt frozen in place watching his best friend start to undress in front of him. His teenage boy mind was going crazy, this was the first time he was going to get to see boobs in person, he was a bit scared he might keel over and die from a hormone overdose.

“What are you waiting for? You’re supposed to show me yours. I’m not taking my boobs out if you’re not holding your end of the bargain up ,Harry.” Y/n’s hands stilled, giving him a pointed look that broke his trance quickly fumbling with his pants to shove them off his hips the outline of his plumping cock showing against the white and grey checker print of his boxers.

“Who’s gonna go first?”, his throat felt painfully dry while he talked swallowing hard after he finished. “You duh!” the girl pushed his shoulder lightly and pointed to his crotch waiting for him to reveal himself.

The boy took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged his cock through the flap in the front of his underwear. He grunted quietly, the cold air hitting his swollen tip. For a few moments nothing was said, Y/n quietly observed his organ taking in the details and pondering her thoughts before speaking, “Yours looks better than his, it’s prettier. Still kind of looks like a snake though.”

Harry sighed, he was glad she didn’t make a comment on his size or anything negative but the snake comment wasn’t exactly the erotic language he needed to get himself off, and then he remembered the deal. “Your turn.”

Y/n nodded, giggling a little bit as she unhooked the clasps of her bra and let them slip down her arms. Her breasts finally came into Harry’s view and god his balls were already constricting. He feared he’d really be the guy who cums in 2 seconds just looking at a girl, but this would be the right situation for it. Y/n didn’t have any clue how long boys lasted so if he was to bust then she probably wouldn’t tease him she’d just have more questions.

“God…they’re pretty Y/n.” The girl smiled shaking her chest a little so they bounced in front of his eyes. “Thanks, I grew them myself. I’m a b cup” she was adorable, so blissfully unaware of what she was doing for him. A smile and playful giggles still radiating from her while he was trying to keep himself from passing out.

“Can I touch-“

His request was soon cut off, not by Y/n but by the door swinging open and his shocked mother standing behind it.

[catgrump]

Hello! I love your work, I was wondering if you wanted to write Leobuki with the prompt “I knew this was a bad idea”

Thank you so much!

How have I never thought of this ship before?

Let’s go let’s go!!! Chaotic Punk Rockers!

Non Despair AU where these two are adults auditioning for a talent search/talent competition! Enjoy 💛

🌻🌻🌻

“I knew this was a bad idea I knew this was a bad idea,” Leon was muttering the phrase over and over again as he clutched the neck of his guitar that sat across his lap and tapped his foot on the tile floor incessantly

And then he heard the clanging of metal on metal beside him. He looked to his right and saw a girl sitting down in a (rather sick) colorfully punk outfit with matching hair holding a keytar. The chains on her belt must’ve made the noise as she sat down.

She was looking at him with a soft, somewhat eerie smile.

“Can I help you?” Leon asked, unsure if he wanted an answer

“Ibuki sensed distress!”

Her voice rang out like the welcome bell over a shop door. He’s been in the presence of this girl for like five seconds and he’s already... oddly intrigued. “Is that you?” Leon asked, “Ibuki?”

“Yessir; you’re a good guesser.” Her smile hasn’t left her face. The contrast of her black lipstick and white teeth was... endearing?

Well, Leon would be lying if he said he didn’t think Ibuki looked cool as hell. Pink and blue and white streaks were scattered in organized chaos throughout her long black hair; she was covered in studded, spiked, and chained accessories; her makeup was intense, yet subtle; and she had a chain of piercings trailing under her lip.

Leon’s tongue pressed against the backing of his own labret piercing, thinking about how he doesn’t think he could handle more than one there. She must be hardcore.

“So what’s up?” Ibuki asked with a pep in her pipes, then gasping, quickly straightening her posture, and answering her own question with another question, “Are you nervous about the audition??”

“Heh, you’re a pretty good guesser, too,” Leon nervously tried to flirt; why did he think THAT was a good idea when he’s already on edge?

“Do you wanna know Ibuki’s advice?”

His foot tapping has transitioned to leg bouncing as he replied, “Sure.”

“It’s not an audition at all!”

“Hah, what?”

“If you tell your brain it isn’t an audition, and you’re just playing at home like you would normally, or you’re playing for a crowd— whichever is easier for you; I know Ibuki prefers a crowd— nerves just POOF! Disappear!”

“Easier said than done,” Leon said, trying to keep his cool. She’s cute and giving him attention; he doesn’t want to pass up an opportunity for a potential phone number.

But his brain is having trouble keeping up this facade. Normally if he’s actively trying to pick someone up, he can focus all his attention on trying to impress the person he’s talking to, but the more he talks with Ibuki while trying to hold his head up high, the more he feels like he’s going to pass out. Especially because, “I’ve never actually performed for a crowd before.”

“Wooooaaahhh that’s cuckoo bananas!” Her eyes almost had actual stars in them, “You must have some serious balls to make your first performance a talent competition!”

“Hah, I guess so—“

“But I totally get why you’re nervous! You’re super duper totally allowed to be. Ibuki was in her first talent competition when she was ten, and she was nervous as all hell.”

“How long ago was that?— if you don’t mind me asking,” Leon looked at Ibuki and thought she had to be at least his age

“A little over a decade!”

She is his age. And she’s been performing since she was in grade school.

Leon only recently discovered he could try to make a career in music, and one of his insecurities is feeling like he has to catch up to everyone else.

Suddenly, a stage manager with a clipboard appeared from behind the big push-bar doors, “Number 37?”

“Oh, that’s me,” Leon practically coughed out

“You’re on deck,” the stage manager added before going back inside

“How are you feeling?” Ibuki asked, leaning in

“If I’m being honest; lightheaded,” Leon tried to play it off as a joke, even though it was the truth.

“Let me get you some water!” Ibuki declared, springing up from the bench and swinging her keytar across her back before darting off

“Ibuki, wait—“

But it was too late. She was already bouncing down the hall, determined to reach her destination.

“Dammit,” Leon muttered, keeling his head forward

Talking with her was a nice distraction. Now, all he can think about is that he’s up next to audition.

By the time the stage manager came back to bring Leon into the audition space, Ibuki hadn’t returned.

Leon tried not to worry too much, thinking it would distract him in a bad way.

But he couldn’t help but think of Ibuki when he approached the microphone and said, “Hi, my name’s Leon Kuwata, and this is an original piece called ‘Under the Bleachers’,” and imagined himself alone in his apartment as he played the chords and sang.

And he got to finish the entire song. He was expecting to get cut off, but he sang the whole thing.

He was brought back to reality when one of the people on the panel who were watching started asking him about the piece, “When did you write that?”

Leon talked about how he drafted it in high school— it was originally a poem he wrote for a class assignment— and reworked it into music after going through a breakup.

The panel all at least seemed interested in his story, too, “Well, thank you for sharing, Leon,” one person said, “We’ll be in touch.”

Leon thanked the panel members and left with a smile on his face.

When he walked back into the hallway, there was Ibuki, sitting on the edge of the bench, holding a bottle of water whose condensation was dripping onto her ripped tights. She stuck to her word.

“You were so good, Leon!” She said with a grin, bouncing as she sat, the water in the bottle jostling inside.

“You could hear?” Leon asked, feeling heat creep to his face as he heard her say his name.

“Yeah! I came back and saw you were gone, so I pressed my ear to to door to snoop,” she laughed, “We have totally different styles, but I’d love to jam sometime! It’s fun to get new flavors in every now and again.”

“You would?”

“Abso-tively!” She beamed, then continued, “It’s like Absolutely and Positively had an affair and made a baby.”

Leon laughed, unsure what to make of her. She’s odd, and unapologetic about it. She’s confident enough to have been performing for over ten years. She’s honest and upbeat.

He definitely has a crush.

But would someone as cool as Ibuki want to take a chance on some shmuck like Leon?

She at least seems like she wants to be friends, and Leon would be happy with that.

“If we’re gonna jam sometime, then,” Leon stepped a bit closer and took his phone out of his pocket, “How about I get your number?”

“Sure!” Ibuki was still smiling, and caught Leon off-guard when she pulled her phone out from the waistband of her tights.

They swapped phones and exchanged numbers. Leon paused typing his in to look at her, bouncing her head rhythmically to the tapping of her thumbs on his phone’s screen.

She’s cute. She’s cute and she’s cool and she’s also a musician and Leon can’t believe he was lucky enough to meet her.

Even if he doesn’t get in the show, one good thing came out of today.

When she handed him his phone back, he read the full name of that person— the one definite good thing to come from today— illuminated on the screen: “Ibuki 🤪🖤🎸 Mioda”

If you enjoy my work, you can buy me a Ko-Fi 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me!

[yikesharringrove]

Hawkins High would have this reunion thing like all the kids who went there at the time would come like after 5 or 10 years to meet each other. So, what if Steve and Billy had something going on during highschool, but then Billy just left without saying a word to California, leaving Steve behind. They would meet each other there and Billy’s like more muscular and has a short beard. It gets Steve all hot just by looking at Billy, so they end up having sex 👀 (+ some angst too pls)

There’s smut

-

Steve tucked his shirt into his jeans.

He stared at himself in the mirror, sighing as he untucked it again.

He had gone through his whole suitcase at this point, trying to find something somewhat okay to wear.

He huffed as he took off his shirt.

“Can you chill?” Robin was sitting on her bed on the hotel. He had begged her to come with him, even though she had no interest in going to the reunion. “It’s not like anyone that matters will be there.”

“Really? You’re not hoping to see,” he put on a dreamy breathy voice. “Tammy Thompson?”

She threw a pillow at him.

“Guarantee you Tammy Thompson is doing better things than going to the fucking Hawkins High School reunion.”

“Well, whatever those better things are, it certainly isn’t fucking country music.” She threw another pillow at him. He tugged on a new shirt.

This one was nicer, fit a little better. He nodded once.

“Are you finally ready? It’s been hours Steve. The reunion’s probably over.” Steve threw the pillows back at her.

-

They checked in at the front table, getting their name tags and proceeding into the gym.

Steve made a beeline for the bar, getting two shots to loosen himself up. He got himself and Robin some drinks, and mingled.

He and Tommy had reconnected a few years ago, met up for coffee when Tommy was in Chicago one day.

He clapped Steve on the back when they hugged.

“You look good, man.”

“Hey, you too. Where’s Carol tonight?”

“Oh, she’s all sick.” Steve stared at him. He grinned. “She’s knocked up! We’re having a fucking baby. Can you believe that?” Steve hugged him again. “So, when are you two gettin’ hitched?”

Steve looked at Robin, and they both burst out laughing.

“Oh, we are not together!” Tommy furrowed his brows.

“Haven’t you two lived together since fucking high school?”

“I mean, on and off, mostly. But we’re, uh, not compatible.”

They had each moved in with significant others through the years, but when everything got messy, they ended up right back together.

-

The evening ended up being, pretty alright.

Robin rolled her eyes when Steve said that, but she didn’t complain, so Steve called it a win.

They were out on the dance floor, tearing it up like it was still ‘85.

Steve was laughing with some asshole he used to be on the swim team with when his locked on the gym doors.

His mouth went fucking dry.

Billy Hargrove was standing there, looking cool as ever, and hot as all fuck in a tight henley.

His hair was short, and he had a fucking beard.

Steve turned around, ordering himself two more shots.

Last time he saw Billy he was tugging on his jeans, was kissing Steve on the forehead and was tiptoeing downstairs, boots in his hand.

He left the next day.

Steve did not want to deal with this right now.

It had taken him years to move on from Billy, taken him fucking years of crying into his pillow and letting beefy blond guys fuck him in dirty bar bathrooms.

Four STD scares and a lot of wine later,he was over Billy. Completely and totally over him.

And here he was, looking at Steve and biting his bottom lip, and Steve was totally not over him.

Billy swaggered up to him, leaning against the bar, his shirt pulling across him pecs.

He was fucking jacked. Definitely bigger than he had been in high school.

He tossed a leather jacket down, ordering a scotch for himself.

“Long time no see, Stevie.” Steve slammed both his shots.

“Yeah. ‘Bout ten years, Hargrove.” He pushed off the bar.

He was itching for a smoke. Had quit about four years ago, but something about Billy brought back all those cravings, all those memories of sitting in bed, sharing a Marlboro even though Steve hated them, their fingers brushing on each pass.

He pushed out of the gym, leaning against the brick wall outside.

He scoffed at the alleyway where Nancy shattered his already broken heart.

“Steve,” Billy’s voice was soft.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He refused to look at him.

“I just wanna talk.”

“Oh, so you finally learned how.” Billy huffed.

“I should’ve told you I was leaving.” Steve made a face at him.

“Oh, you should’ve?”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“Great. Thanks.” He tapped his foot. “Jesus, you have a cigarette?” Billy rifled through his pockets.

And pulled out a pack of teal American Spirits.

“God. You’ve gone soft.” Billy shook his head, lighting two in his mouth, passing one to Steve. He had several piercings in each ear now.

“Trying to cut back.” Steve took the cigarette.

“I quit years ago.”

“Well, sorry to break your streak.”

“Something about you makes me need a fuckin’ cigarette.” He took a long drag. “You and smoking just go together in my brain I guess.”

“I was hittin’ it hard back then. Probably always just smelled like smoke.”

“I always liked the way you smelled.”

And maybe it was the shots Steve had knocked back, or the way Billy’s earrings glinting in the light, but Steve leaned in, taking a strong whiff of his collar.

“Still like it?” Billy was smirking at him.

“Liked it better with the Marbs.”

“Well, two packs a day was probably gonna make me keel over soon.” He smiled when Steve huffed a laugh. “So, how are you? What have you been up to?”

“Jesus, we really doin’ this?” Billy shrugged at him. “I’m good. I’m in Chicago now. I’m an E.R. nurse.” Billy smiled at him.

“Good for you.”

“What are you doing? Since we’re making weird small talk now.”

“Been here and there. Worked in garage for a while, waited tables. Stripped too. I’m an English teacher now, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, come on. You act like I don’t know you. I mean, fuck, how many times were you my own personal English teacher?” Billy looked down, ashing his cigarette.

“You’re actually why I decided to study it. I’m in a high school now.”

“Bet you’re the teacher everyone gets crushes on. Get love notes on your desk, and all that.” Billy laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Nah. I’m a little more tough lovin’ than that. Don’t take any shit.”

“You’re too soft for that. Don’t front.” Billy smiled, looking down at his feet.

“One a’ my kids has pretty bad dyslexia. Parents won’t do shit about it. Makes me think a’ you.”

“Shoulda seen me when I got to college. Diagnosed myself.”

“Nurse Harrington for the win, then.” Steve laughed, smoke pouring outta his mouth. He stubbed out his cigarette.

“Where are you living now?”

“Santa Monica.”

“Explains the tan.”

“C’mon, Baby. I’m always this golden.” He smirked, waggling his tongue at Steve.

And it was like being back in high school, with Billy teasing him on the basketball court.

And Steve didn’t think, just grabbed the lapels of his jacket, smashing their mouths together.

Billy leaned into it, holding Steve’s face between his palms, pushing him with his body against the wall.

His beard scratched against Steve’s skin, lit a fire in his gut.

“Where you stayin’ in town?”

“Shitty motel.”

“Take me.” Billy’s eyes were wide in the dark. He nodded vigorously.

Billy pulled him by the wrist to the parking lot, dragging him to his car.

The same car he had in high school.

The blue Camaro still smelled the same, and when Steve turned around, the backseat was still sporting that stain, a little white smudge of Billy’s cum that had dripped out of Steve.

He smiled to himself as Billy started the car.

He put one hand on Steve’s thigh as they roared through town, heading down the service road.

Billy pulled into the motel. Was back on Steve in a second.

Steve danced out of reach, slipping out of the car with a coy smile.

Billy shook his head as he unlocked the door.

He pushed Steve onto the bed, climbing on top of him.

They wasted no time, tearing at one another’s clothes.

Billy pulled off his shirt, and Steve stared, brushing his fingers over his chest piece, a deer with white roses tangled in it’s antlers.

“Pretty.” Billy smiled down at him as he traced it. It was black and white, hyper realistic.

Billy leaned over him, kissing at his neck, trailing down his collar bone.

“You think ahead? Condoms? Lube?” Billy looked up at him.

“Who do you think I am? Was fuckin’ praying you’d be at that thing.” He kissed down his body.

Steve worked one hand into his hair, holding on while Billy swallowed up his cock.

“Holy shit.” He tossed his head back, one of Billy’s hands coming up to hold his own.

It was so easy, falling back into their old ways.

Billy knew just how to play his body. He got him hard and leaking in a second, moved his tongue so well, sucking Steve down.

“So good at this. ‘d forgotten.” He hadn’t forgotten how good Billy made him feel, doesn’t think he ever could. Just tried to push that shit away until he didn’t spend all of his waking hours thinking about him.

Billy mouthed down his dick, moving to suck lightly on his balls, spreading Steve’s legs open, and licking over his hole.

He pushed his tongue inside of him, sucking on his rim.

His beard was rough against Steve;s inner thighs, but he kinda loved it. Didn’t even mind the lame little pornstache Billy had grown in the summer.

Steve squirmed.

He hadn’t been with anyone in a while, didn’t get a lot of time off from work to date and fuck.

“Billy, just fuck me.”

“Haven’t tasted your sweet little ass in years, Pretty Boy.“

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that.” Billy sat up, looking at Steve as sincerely as he could with spit down his chin.

“You know, I really am sorry about that.”

“Billy, let’s just, talk about this later, okay?” Billy chewed on his bottom lip. Steve pushed his head back down.

He didn’t want to think for a moment, didn’t want to think about benders and crying at Robin while he threw up tequila and rainbow pills.

He let Billy work him open with his tongue and two of his fingers, let him dig into his prostate and bring Steve right to the edge.

Billy pulled off him, digging in a suitcase for a stack of condoms, a few little packets of lube.

He crawled back on top of Steve, rolling on a condom.

Steve spread his legs, rubbing the side of his knee against Billy’s torso.

Billy lined up, and pushed inside.

They both moaned as he bottomed out, his hips pressing flush to Steve’s ass.

He pulled out, his cock heavy, stretching Steve wide.

He rolled his hips, propping himself up with both hands on either side of Steve’s head.

Steve wrapped his legs around his waist, so much thicker than he was in high school. He felt up Billy’s body, feeling hard muscle before wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Missed your pretty sounds.” He was back on Steve’s neck, sucking bruises into the skin. “No one has ever made me feel as fucking crazy as you.” And he began fucking into him faster, harder. “Can you still cum with nothin’ but a cock in your ass?”

“Yeah. Been a minute, but if you-” he cut himself off with a moan, back arching as Billy shifted, hitting that perfect little spot.

He was all breathy, his voice high in his throat, eyes wide.

Billy was smirking at him, had doubled down, started going harder, rougher.

“I’m gonna-” He didn’t finish his sentence before he was cumming, his whole body going tight.

It seemed like he was cumming for fuckin’ hours, eyes squeezing shut as he made a mess of himself.

Billy was painting when he floated back into his body, had spilled out into the condom.

He kissed Steve’s temple.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Steve closed his eyes, pretended for a minute that Billy had never left.

“Why did you leave?”

Billy was quiet. Steve still had his eyes closed.

Billy warmth was gone, and Steve cracked one eye enough to see Billy’s retreating back. He went to the bathroom, and Steve could hear the faucett.

He came back, the condom disposed of, and a towel warm and wet for Steve.

He cleaned him up, just like he used to.

“My dad kicked me out. Didn’t have a whole lotta choice in the matter.”

They had been planning a summer together. Were planning on hanging out at the mall and going to the drive in, and being stupid dumb kids.

“You could’ve called.” or asked me to come with you.

“Figured it’d be best if we just went our separate ways. Clean break.” Steve went still.

He was up in a second, shoving his clothes back on.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Fuck you, Hargrove.” He didn’t look at Billy.

“Steve-”

“No. It was not a clean break. It was messy and shitty, and I was over you. It took me fucking years, but I did it.” He wiped at his eyes. “Can’t believe I was so stupid, let you back into my life. What the fuck was I thinking?”

He jammed his shoes on, marching to the door.

Billy hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed.

“Have a nice life, or whatever.”

He slammed the door behind him.

It took him seven minutes of walking, and eighteen minutes of sitting next to the road crying his eyes out before he shoved a few quarters into a payphone.

Robin was back at their hotel room. He knew she was mad at him for ditching her, but when she heard the tightness in his throat, she softened, agreeing to pick him up.

“I fucking hate myself.”

Steve had his head pressed against the window.

“Steve, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. It took me so long to move on, and now, now I’m right back at square one.”

“This isn’t square one. You’ve done this before, you can get through it again.”

“But at what cost? I should’ve told him to fuck off. Not given him the time of day.”

“You’d feel just as shitty if you had done that.”

And he knew she was right.

She was always right.

He settled lower into his seat, let her take him back to their hotel, to his neatly packed suitcase and plane tickets for the morning.

He tried pushing Billy out of his mind.

Already had plenty of practice.

And all he wanted was blue eyes and a cigarette.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 1]

A/N: Part 2 coming tomorrow.

Words:3k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of miscarriage, sexual situations

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie  @emariehorror  @divaanya  @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @abaldboi  @liith-ium  @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels  @ytwahsog  @scarecrowmax  @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx    @meetthesixxter    @arianareirg  @gingerspicetalks

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

NIKKI

I stare down at the small, black and white pictures of seemingly nothing except a tiny, tiny little blob, except for one picture which is marked with “4 months” on the back, February 14th, 1986, in white marker in Vivs’s handwriting, one picture out of seven, each with dates…she doesn’t say a word to me, and she didn’t before she handed them over. She just chunked them in my lap and went from there.

I don’t know what to ask, because I don’t know what to say.

“Are these…?” I finally get out, looking at her.

She’s got tears in her eyes, and it slowly starts sinking in.

These are fucking kids--well, tiny little embryo kids, or whatever.

“These are your’s?” I ask next and she nods.

When the hell was she ever fucking pregnant?

I check the dates again…

1983.

1984.

1984.

1985.

1986.

1986...the back of it says “twins.”

“Where was I when all of this was happening?” I ask her, and she licks her lips and breathes out.

“I don’t know, Nikki, where were you?” She replies lowly.

I look at her for a moment, trying to decide if she’s serious or not.

Then she digs in her purse and pulls out a paper, unfolding it before going through the list of dates assigned to each ultrasound image, reciting to me--in my own words from diaries--my whereabouts around the time she lost each one.

I take it that she’s already skimmed through a diary or two already.

I get angrier and angrier with each line, shaking by the time she starts on, “1986--you were unconscious while me and Andy McCoy were trying to resuscit--”

I throw the pictures and they all split from each other and scatter around her, cutting her short.

“None of this is my fault, Vivian!” I scream at her, my heart feeling as though it’s rotting behind my ribs. “I didn’t fucking know!”

“How could you fucking know when you were so damn hig--”

“You came home in ‘83, from that appointment and told me it was a false-positive test and you had just gained a little weight. I wasn’t on smack in July of 1983. In fact, I went a little while on just Tylenol and beer while I was tampering off my heavy meds the doctor prescribed for my shoulder. So you could have fucking told me then what the fuck was happening, instead of shutting down and shutting me out for three goddamn months!” I’m crying without realizing it until hot tears prick down my cheeks, my skin uncomfortable as my nerves singe from my boiling blood. “I loved you, I had just married you for Christ sake--I was happy and excited to be at that point with you and you fucking left me for three months! You’d barely let me touch you, you wouldn’t come out of our room, you wouldn’t wanna go out, I’d sleep on the fucking couch or crash at Robbins or Tommy’s because you’d tell me you just wanted to be alone, and all along I thought it was my fault because I went to that fucking party with Tommy instead of staying with you the night of our wedding and you were just making me pay...and then when you were put on medication I thought it was my fault, too, because I thought you’d figured out I was tampering with smack, and I just…” I’m up and pacing, hands in my hair…

Amber doesn’t say a word.

I think Viv broke her, too, because she looks like she’s trying to find the right thing to say.

Maybe she’s hoping we can talk this one out on our own.

But I don’t want to talk anything out.

Not right now.

“I didn’t tell you about them because I was scared you would cope with the pain the same way you’d coped with pain for years. I was afraid you’d drink and drug yourself and leave me to deal with it by myself, and I didn’t want to put that on you, so I just dealt with it myself.” Vivian admits, her voice cracking.

“Vivian, you haven’t dealt with it, though.” Amber quietly interjects, softly. “You haven’t dealt with it. You haven’t allowed yourself to heal.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” I shakily ask, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat.

“When you died.” She says next, honestly, her tone a dead giveaway that it’s not something she’s proud of, but it’s the truth. “I was just gonna bury the pictures with you, just in case you had random kids coming up to you in the next life, you’d know who they were, I guess.”

I feel sick to my stomach at the confession, my whole body repulsed with the fact that she’s managed to hide this the past four years.

“Nikki, if you need to take a break, we can,” Amber assures me.

I’m getting the fuck out of there as fast as I can, just desperate to get some air that Vivian isn’t breathing her demoness presence into, and the second I get free, I'm puking my guts up in the hallway. 

I know I had a reason to be angry with her, she hid that from me, like I'd hid so much from her. She thought she was protecting me, though, and I just didn't want her to leave me because I was a pussy and a piece of shit--and I knew it. 

I was more pissed at myself, though, because I knew I'd put her in the position to feel like she couldn't come to me and tell me she was pregnant, let alone had lost it, even before I was on smack. 

She knew how I handled shit--either drink, do whatever drug was accessible, or both. 

When heroin and crack entered the picture, that just cemented her will not to tell me about it. 

I think the biggest elephant in the room, though, despite her being pregnant with Duff's baby at that point, and me and my thing with Vanity and all the other women, and her hidden pregnancies, was the fact she never wanted to get married to me that fast, and I knew it. 

I knew it the day we got married that she didn't really want to, she was just trying to make me happy, and I fucking let her do it because I was so terrified that I was going to lose her if I didn't go as far as I could to secure her to me. 

The amount of unnecessary bullshit she could've bypassed had I just taken a step back and told her we didn't have to get married if she didn't want to...I often times think it would've saved her a lot of heartbreak. We could've broken up when shit hit the fan with smack in '84, I still would've lived through my bad OD in '87,  probably, and we could've gotten back together when I cleaned my shit up--that is if she would've waited for me...and that's why I didn't let up. Because "if she waited" wasn't good enough. I didn't want "if." 

I wanted her. 

So I married her, knowing she didn't want to, and instead of proving her wrong and giving her a relationship to question why she ever second guessed vowing an eternity together with me, I put her through hell, treated her like shit, abused her, endured her abuse, wasted each other's time, hurt each other, ruined each other more and more than what we were when we got into the relationship. 

And that was my first indiscretion against her. 

Marrying her knowing she wasn't ready.

By the time I finish puking, I'm leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths, hearing Vivian crying, still in Amber's office. 

I squeeze my eyes closed, my palms roughly wipe my stray tears. 

Despite being sober, the little fuck that is Sikki is trying to claw out of the box I've put him in for over a month, now. 

Just the faintest, "leave her," echoes in my mind. 

"Fuck you." I audibly tell him. 

"She never wanted to be with you in the first place. Why do you think her body refused to carry your fucking kids? Because she hates you so much that it'd be an abomination to have your little hell rats." 

"Fuck off." I argue, again. 

"And just think about it. The timing of this one she's got now...she was getting her brains screwed backwards right next door to you while you were keeling over. It was like she knew what was about to happen and she was celebrating the fact she wouldn't have to fucking deal with your shit ever again." He taunts, getting more and more of his scraggly hand out of the box, the lid cracking open to reveal his white, sallow skin and dark eyes. 

"Fuck off." I gritt out once more. 

"What's wrong? You don't think she'd do that? After all the times you've admitted she's an evil bitch from the pit fires of hell? Because I think she'd do it. In fact, I bet she'd stare your overdosing carcass in the eyes, screaming out his name in ecstasy, while dripping cum at the mere fact you were dying." 

I slam the lid of the box back down, crushing his boney, track riddled fingers, making him curse me. 

I refuse to listen to his bullshit anymore. 

Vivian loves me. She wants to be with me. She'd be gone by now if she didn't, and I wouldn't blame her. 

1 9 8 1

"Ummm…" I trail off, watching her closely, lickikg my lips, my hand grabbing at the curve of her hip over the comforter she's got pulled up to her chest, her head in the crook of my elbow, looking up at me, awaiting my answer. "...I don't know." I say, honestly. 

"As theological as you are and you can't tell me whether or not you think Aliens are real?" She asks and I roll my eyes. 

"I don't know, miss honor roll, you tell me." I counter and she grins. 

"I think the universe is too big for it to just be us." She informs me. 

"Ah, says the one who also believes a heaven and a God exists within the same wide range of universe." I reply and she hits my bare chest with the back of her hand, gently. 

"Shut up." She says, shaking her head a little. "Is it not reasonable to think there's more than just us?" 

I think about it for a moment. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if aliens are real, I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't." I admit, rubbing my eye for a second. 

"What about God?" She asks next and I try not to laugh in her face. 

"I'm almost one hundred percent sure that God doesn't exist." I state. 

"How do you know?" She says, blinking emerald greens at me, as if what I'm about to say about her imaginary friend she's been brainwashed into believing in, is going to make or break her.

"I'm not sure, baby, I just think...fine, tell you what, I wouldn't be surprised if God were real, and I wouldn't be surprised if he weren't real." I give her the benefit of the doubt. 

"I'd be surprised if he weren't." She tells me. 

"Yeah? Well, how do you know he is real?" I question her, next, a teasing smile on my lips. 

"I don't know, you can't see him or hear his voice audibly, but you can feel him." She explains the best she can and I raise my brows. 

"You can feel God?"

"Well, yeah." She replies, her finger tracing along the few bits of chest hair I've got and I lick my lips for a second before leaning down, kissing her. 

"What about now?" I ask, grinning as my hand pushes away at the covers over her to run against the smooth skin of her thigh and she smiles just a little before pressing her lips to mine, one of her hands threading in my hair with her other arm snakes around me, pulling me on top of her and I chuckle lowly, nestling between her legs while we get hot and heavy with our tongues and teeth.

Both of us let out satisfied breaths when I slide into her, her eyes fluttering closed, brows furrowed slightly, head leaning back as her nails bite into my arms. 

I pat myself on the back and trail hot, wet, sloppy kisses along her clavicle before pulling out of her again, a little shudder going up my back from the tight, soaking heat between her legs. 

When I start building a slow but hard rhythm, her legs are locking at the base of my spine, her arms hugging at my back, pulling me to her as, "Nikki," slips from her lips. 

"What about now?" I ask in her ear as I force myself as deep into her as her body will let me, and she whimpers out, "yes."

A sadistic little pat to my ego causes a pull at my lips, my hand wrapping around her throat as I stare down at her, her nails clawing down my back, tears in her eyes as I thrust back into her…

I kiss at her lips, her cheek, her jaw, moving my hand from her throat to kiss her neck and I swear I hear the faintest, barely inaudible whisper of, "I love you," but decide I'm just hearing things...

Present

I squeeze my eyes shut, the smell of my puke wafting in my face, making me take several steps back to catch my breath. 

It's hard to swallow the fact that I really let myself be convinced for so long that I'd let her fuck my life up, to the extent of blaming her for my life actually being fucked up.

"Fuck." I curse at myself, raking my hands down my face. 

How the fuck am I going to make this right with her? 

How the fuck is she going to make this right with me? 

She's pregnant, with Duff's kid or whatever, and then BAM! just drops this shit on me that she's actually been pregnant multiple times from me and never mentioned losing any of them to me. 

I know it's my fault that she didn't tell me. I know it is. Am I going to admit that to her? Fuck no. Am I hurt over her not telling me anyway? Yeah, I am. 

If I wasn't in sobriety penitentiary, I'd probably be out and about trying to find something to numb and distract me…

I don't know what to do. 

But I do know one thing for sure: I'm not in love with her anymore, but I love her, and I'm pretty sure she feels the same exact way about me...but it's not like we can't get back to that place we were in when we first got together, it's just gonna take some work...a lot of work.

I huff out a breath, taking a moment to get my shit together, mentally. 

Do I go back in there and finish out today or just try again next week? 

I think on it for a minute…

"Fuck it." I say out, shakily, weakly, tears break past my lash line once again, 

a far cry from that tough motherfucker I swore I was for years. "Just fuck it."

Fuck this.

Fuck her.

And fuck me.

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch 6- Kiss The Girl

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Ari is trying to find the right moment to talk to Hannah about their kiss but things and people just keep getting in the goddamned way…

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. A world of smut via flashback (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

A/N: So, we promised you some soft daddy Ari, and here he is…you might want to grab a fan or something coz we ain’t gonna lie, this one left us in a puddle on the floor!!!

 Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 5

“Life can be short or long, love can be right or wrong, And I if chose the one I’d like to help me through, I’d like to make it with you, I really think that we could make it, girl.” Make It With You by B.R.E.A.D

It had been days since the kiss, which soon enough turned into weeks. 4 and a half to be exact. Ari knew. He had counted them along with each phase of the moon, and nothing happened. They had kissed and that was it and to say it was bugging him would be an understatement.

He had tried, though. Well, sort of. The night after the kiss, Ari had seen Hannah walking Simon towards her spot as she had gotten used to doing before going to sleep. He had started after her on impulse, but then he had stopped on the beach sand and  chickened out when he realised he hadn't thought about what to say and ended up going back to his hut after finishing his cigarette.

A couple of nights later, he had mustered enough courage and was determined to go after her. He needed to speak to her. He didn't know exactly what he would say but he had come to the conclusion it would be best to wing it and let his mind speak for itself. Just get your ass there and let's see how it goes, Levinson. And then Sammy (who else?!) had appeared with a bottle of whiskey asking him to join him and Jake. It was a good thing, though. They had sorted their differences which had left them on an even keel, although Ari wondered for how long. If Sammy only knew what was on his mind just a few seconds before...  But Sammy had also told him he had also apologised to Hannah so things were getting better, that much was undeniable.

Still, the fact was, that little gathering around a bottle of whiskey had meant Ari had left another few days go without speaking to her. And even though she hadn't reached out to him either and things, everything considered, weren't awkward between them, Ari knew he had to speak to her.

The next chance he got was another few days later. Everyone was busy after dinner and he decided it was the perfect opportunity to go for it. But he had to stop when he met some tourists on the beach near her spot. He had to feign he was checking up on them and after a polite exchange on the wonderful time they were having at the resort he had to turn on his steps and head back to his hut, cursing all the way.

The more time that went by the harder it was getting not only to find the perfect moment but also to gather the courage to have that pending conversation with Hannah. So Ari found himself one night wondering if it was just better left alone. Was there even a pending conversation to have? The atmosphere was good, Hannah was fine with him, even her and Sammy had taken a trip together to Port Sudan and no one had died. That was another bump in the road, every time he commented on having to go to Port Sudan or even Khartoum hoping for Hannah to come with him, someone called dibs or even offered to go on his behalf. So he had stopped faking reasons for the trips and coming up with real reasons as chances were he would end up going with someone else or staying at the resort.

Fortunately Simon made it impossible to stay in a bad mood. The dog was as cheeky as it gets. Hannah had been teaching him some tricks so he now sat, gave his paw and rolled over. Well, sort of, he more like got onto his back and stayed there with his short legs extended in the air. It was hilarious. He also went conveniently deaf whenever anyone other than Hannah or Ari told him to do anything. So it was a common joke now that Simon was his and Hannah's kid, which didn't bother Ari in the slightest. On the contrary, he happily played along when someone told him to take care of his child.

Thus, week after week went by and before they knew it they were in the middle of February and Rachel was preparing to take the first Shore Leave trip home. She was the only one with kids other than Ari, but Maya was with her mother while Rachel's kids were with their grandparents so they all agreed she should be the first to travel home. Hannah would take her place as managing director, aerobics instructor and much to Max and Jake laugh, masseuse.

The night before Rachel travelled to the US, Hannah was in the kitchen feeding Simon after they had already had dinner while the rest of them were chilling on the patio. Rachel had sneaked a bottle of Tequila from the stash of alcohol they had been gathering from their trips to Port Sudan or the nearest village market, to toast for a safe trip home. Jake, encouraged by the Tequila shots he had been gulping, was hitting on a group of young female tourists that were gathered around an improvised bonfire on the beach.

"It's the first time I see him do that in the nearly two months we've been here." Max snorted, seeing Jake stumble on the sand and fall on his ass next to one of the girls.

"Guess the real Jake has taken over Luca Morano." Sammy scoffed.

"It has." Ari chuckled. "Did I ever tell you how I found him with a girl in a decompression tank when I went to recruit him in Belize?"

"Now that's Jake Wolf." Max laughed. "Must have been a sight to see."

"Oh, it was. Stark naked. Refused to cover himself up all through our conversation." Ari confided before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Well, he has managed to keep himself away from tourists until now. We have to give him that." Max commented.

"Maybe it's because Hannah’s not into him after all." Rachel deadpanned, always the perceptive one.

"What do you mean?" Sammy asked or more like groaned.

"Just saying they're not diving as much now as they did before. She’s cooled off, certainly over the last month anyway." she shrugged.

Everyone fell silent for a few minutes, enjoying their shots and taking in Rachel's words. Of course she had noticed, she always did. That was what made her, along with other qualities, one of the best spies Mossad could ever hope for. 

Ari could see the clogs in Sammy's brain turning, as usual his brain short-circuited when it came to his sister. He, on the other hand, was low-key pleased to hear that. He wouldn't be feeding himself to the sharks after all and he couldn't help the smile that spread on his face when Hannah came back with Simon and grinned at the sight of Jake flirting with the group of women.

"How's he doing?" she asked, nodding towards Jake before taking a seat next to Ari.

"Working on it." Max answered, looking first at Hannah and then discreetly at Ari who was still smiling widely.

*********

The following morning, after having waved goodbye to Rachel who had left after giving some last minute instructions to Hannah and promising them all to make the most of her week off, Jake, Max, Ari and Hannah were sat at their breakfast table.

"They must think we're stupid." Hannah said, pointing to the fact that Sammy had offered himself, more like jumped to the opportunity of driving Rachel to the airport in Port Sudan.

"What?" Ari asked.

"Ok, maybe you all are stupid." she said rolling her eyes as she poured herself some more coffee.

The three men ignored her jab and looked blankly at one another for what looked like an eternity until Max twigged it. Hannah spotted the exact moment coz he grinned and gave his trademark chuckle. That was enough for Ari to realise as well.

"Rachel and Sammy?" Ari asked, not believing it. 

"You're a dumbass, Levinson." Hannah teased him. 

Simon then rolled on the floor and gave a loud yip as if to highlight his mum's words.

"Wouldn't be so pleased, pal. He's coming back." Jake said, looking down at the dog. 

Everyone chuckled at the comment and as much as Jake tried to hide his hangover behind his shades, his hoarse voice was betraying him.

"This is good." Max said, still grinning. "I mean Sammy needs to get laid, release some tension."

"Don’t we all?" Jake quipped, thus unwillingly confessing he hadn't been lucky the night before.

"Cheers to that." Hannah said, raising her mug.

Max, Jake and Ari all raised their mugs to join Hannah in her toast as they laughed, though Ari was internally groaning. He wasn't expecting having to visit the shower again that morning.

*********

With Rachel gone Hannah was busier than ever as she had to pick up a lot of her chores, including the aerobics classes. Having to witness Hannah every morning clad in those colourful tight leotards and tights, bending and stretching sent Ari into a frenzy. At some point he tried to avoid her classes, either to dodge suspicious looks from Sammy or to prevent Jake from drooling shamelessly over Hannah and other female tourists too. 

“What? Why can you be at the classes and I can't?” Jake asked Ari one morning after he gave him a reproachful look because the truth was that Ari’s attempts to avoid them had failed, miserably, and instead he had found any excuse possible to lurk in the reception area. Be it a document he needed to check, a key someone from the staff had asked him for or a glass of water he had to grab from the kitchen, among other things, which always caused some giggles from the group of young female tourists. If they only knew it wasn't about them.

Ari had come to the conclusion that he needed to speak to Hannah, because it was starting to get embarrassing and Simon wasn't helping. The dog was exposing him even more as he would bark at him and look for his attention every time he walked in to the room with another lame ass excuse. He had no idea what he would say or how he would address the elephant in the room after so a month, he just knew he needed to be alone with her or he would go crazy. 

However, he failed again and again not only because with Rachel gone Hannah was busier and didn't have much free time but because most of the scarce free time she had was spent with Sammy, who was excessively clingy to his sister.  Ari now realised that Hannah had been right, the man clearly had a thing for the blonde. 

Which was even clearer the evening before Rachel was due to return as Sammy had been particularly jovial after a week of exacerbate grumpiness and moping around the resort. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by any of them. What was more, Hannah was not letting the opportunity to tease his brother go by.

Sammy had offered to walk Simon with her before going to sleep and they were walking along the sea shore in a comfortable silence when he threw a stick towards the waves so that Simon could go and fetch it. Hannah didn't hesitate to bug him when he bent to scratch Simon's ear when the dog came back with the stick in his mouth.

"I don’t recognise you, Samuel Navon. You’re even being nice to Simon." she said.

"Well, he’s growing on me." he shrugged, smiling at the dog.

To be honest, Hannah knew Simon was indeed growing on him. The dog had become a sort of celebrity in the resort, with all the guest ladies cooing over him like a baby whenever he was near and him going from group to group of guests on the beach, demanding attention from everyone, most of them willing to give it to him. But, there was something else to Sammy's sudden cheerfulness and Hannah was sure she knew what it was.

"Bullshit. Just yesterday you were wanting to kill him because he chewed your shoes." Hannah smirked, stopping to look at her brother.

"Why does he have to chew my shoes when he has Jake’s shirts to go at?" Sammy whined. 

"It’s a woman, isn’t it? More specifically, it’s Rachel. She’s back tomorrow and you’re happy…" Hannah insisted, smiling at him in an attempt to make him confide in her. Sammy had never been the one to let his emotions take over. Even when they were kids she had been the lively, expressive one and he had been the brooding older brother.

"Will you shut up if I tell you it is?" he asked, more of an order than a question. He knew her sister and there was no going back at this point, he had been busted. Better to get it over with in the most graceful manner possible.

Hannah grinned "You sly dog."  and then she offered him a warm smile "Good for you, Sammy.  I’m pleased."

"I don’t know if she feels the same way…so I don’t want to make a fuss about it, ok?" he said, trying to dim his sister's enthusiasm. 

"My lips are sealed." she made a zip gesture over her mouth. "But you know there’s only one way to find out? Ask."

"Easier said than done." Sammy scoffed.

Hannah then sighed, "Don’t I know it."

Sammy looked at his sister, his brow furrowing.

 "What do you mean?"

"Oh nothing…was just talking in general." she said, trying to make it sound casual.

"No, you weren’t." he retorted.  "But it's ok if you want me to pretend you were. After everything that’s happened I’m probably better off in the dark."

Hannah smiled at her brother's words. After all, he was trying hard not to meddle in her life, unless she asked him to do so, as she had requested when he had apologised to her weeks earlier.

"Just give yourself the chance to be happy, Han." he said as he reached to hug her.

Hannah sighed and leaned into her brother's embrace. She knew full well he didn’t mean Ari when he was talking about her happiness, but that was where her mind went. The thought of Ari's shore leave looming in the horizon, as his turn would come only a few days post Rachel's return, made her shiver. And the realisation that she needed to speak to him before he left hit her like a landslide. She needed to reach out to him before he went back to the real world. To Maya. To Sarah.

"Easier said than done." she forced a smile, repeating her brother’s earlier words back to him. 

*****

Rachel returned the following day and she was beaming. Being able to spend time with her kids had, no doubt, suited her. It was now a matter of days for Ari to be able to spend time with Maya and he was looking forward to it. The countdown to his leave officially started and he was excited to see Ethan too as he was proud of how they were set up and operating. His idea of turning the resort into a running hotel had been a great success and Ari couldn't wait to report to Ethan face to face, or Isaacs for that matter. The Head of Mossad had been a whiny bitch about them taking in real tourists and Ari, arrogant as he was at times, was hoping to have the opportunity to rub it in his face.

Yet there was one thing that was bothering him and would keep him awake late at night, and that was Hannah. Over the past few days Ari had noticed she had started to withdraw again. She should have been more relaxed now that Rachel was back but she had become warier and quieter instead. But that wasn't the only thing bugging him. He was well aware that he was going to miss her and he was finding it quite odd. They hadn't seen each other at all over the last four years and now the idea of being apart from her for ten days was bothering him.

They say time flies. Either because you're having a great time or because you don't want time to pass at all, which was the reason in Hannah's case. The night before Ari left they were gathered together as usual after dinner, having drinks and toasting to Ari's safe flight home. Hannah was trying to keep it cool and ignore the churning feeling in her stomach, but she was failing spectacularly. She was a jumble of nerves, she had been for the past few days, but that night it was getting worse so she decided to stop drinking before she barfed or even worse got so drunk she would start doing or saying something she would regret. She felt like she was gonna start crying any minute and Max and Jake goofing around weren't helping her in any way.

"Come on, Red. Drink another shot with me." Jake said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he poured two tequila shots with his free hand.

"I don't want to drink, Jake." she refused the drink with a wave of her hand.

"What? Are you pregnant? Don't tell me, a hairy Nazi knocked you up after a massage." Max snorted, visibly drunk.

"You're not funny, Maxwell. Fuck you." she growled at him, standing up to shove him in the chest almost sending him flying backwards on his chair.

"What's wrong with you, cracker?" he yelled back, visibly surprised, trying not to lose balance as the chair teetered precariously on its back two legs.

All the group, in fact, were surprised. Not only because Hannah and Max were best friends and got on but also because they joked and pranked each other on a daily basis and Hannah had never snapped at him like that. Normally she would have come up with a smart reply and they would have been bickering for minutes but that night Hannah was behaving out of character.

She didn't answer Max, instead she shook her head and left, with Simon following trail. Everyone then turned to glare at Max who shrugged and leaned to grab the bottle of Tequila.

"Something has gotten her on edge. She's been odd for a few days but today she's been particularly bad." Rachel explained, looking worriedly towards the path that led to the huts.

Ari sighed, both of his hands brushing his hair back. He wanted to go after her but wasn't sure if it would be weird in the eyes of the rest of the team.  While debating what to do he looked at Sammy but he was busy looking at her and asking Rachel what she meant. Max was out of the question as he had decided to drown his concern in Tequila shots, so he looked at Jake who nodded meeting Ari's eyes. Go talk to her, he mouthed.

He didn't have to be told twice. Ari stood up and went to find her. In order not to raise suspicions, more on Sammy's part than on anyone else's, he went in the opposite direction before doubling back around the front of the resort. He went to the beach and started walking thinking maybe Hannah had decided to go to her spot on the rocks after all. But she wasn't there so he decided to try her hut. And there she was as he heard Simon bark when he knocked on the door.

"What do you want, Ari?" Hannah asked the moment she opened the door.

She didn't seem surprised to see him at her door but she didn't seem excited or pleased either. She seemed so messed up, as she didn't give a damn about anyone anymore.

"Wanted to see if you’d drive me to the airport tomorrow." he said shyly.

He hadn't thought about what to say to her, not knowing the mood she would be in and the idea came to him out of the blue. He thought it was the perfect chance to be alone, to talk.

Hannah frowned at him "Thought you already asked Sammy."

Busted.

Ari looked down at his feet, put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"What do you really want, Ari? I’m not in the mood." she asked again.

"No, but you’re in A mood. I noticed, matter of fact everyone did..." and then he paused as a thought hit him. As unlikely as it was, he decided to ask anyway, edging his bets. “Is it…is it because I’m leaving tomorrow?"

Ari saw her eyes beginning to cloud and she looked away 

“No.”

"You’re as bad a liar as Sammy." he said, trying to lighten up her mood.

But his attempt to make her smile resulted in her turning away from him. She left the door open though so he stepped in and closed it behind him, accepting the silent invitation. 

"Firefly I…" he began.

"I’m just stressed Ari…a little homesick too, I miss mama, but that’s it." she cut him off.

"Promise me?" he asked, tilting his head and smiling softly.

"Yes, Ari." she replied drily.

"I don’t believe you." Ari said, his hand caressing her cheek. A bold move if you will but he had nothing to lose at this point.

Hannah started crying immediately and Simon let out a little whine when he heard her. Ari then pulled her in for a hug. He was beginning to wonder if it had been too much but then he felt her shoulders relaxing as her hands connect round his broad back. Simon felt her change in demeanour too and jumped up at them wanting to take part in the comforting gesture, his paws resting against Hannah’s thigh. Hannah chuckled as she stepped back slightly to pet him.

She stayed quiet for a minute, her eyes focussed on the dog and then she lifted her eyes to look Ari before speaking “Are you going to see Maya?”

It was a dumbass question, as she knew perfectly well he was, but he instantly understood what she was really asking. Are you seeing Sarah?

"Is that what’s bothering you?" Ari asked, looking at her with concerned eyes.

"No it’s just I.. " she started protesting but he cut her off.

"Han, if I want to see Maya then I need to speak to Sarah."

Hannah fell silent again, she knew she had just shown her cards so there was no point denying anything anymore. She looked down and started fiddling with the hem of her top for a few seconds before her shoulders started to shake and tears began to run down her cheeks again.

"Hannah, what’s going on?" Now Ari was genuinely confused. They had not been alone since that night, not talked about the kiss so he wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much. He had assumed from her silence over the past month that she thought their little moment was all a mistake and that was it for them, but the fact that she was bothered by the thought of him seeing his estranged wife meant something else, didn't it? "I don’t want you to go."  her voice now a whisper. "I mean, I know you have to but.." she swallowed before continuing "I don’t want to be here without you." She had said it, right? She had admitted it. I don't want to be here without you. Ari was suddenly floored, utterly floored. This meant she felt something more. 

"Firefly, look at me." he demanded. But she didn't move. "Look at me, please." he spoke more softly this time.

Hannah then raised her eyes, locking them to his, her bottom lip quivering slightly. "I’m coming back." Ari assured her.

"I know. It’s just…I’m gonna miss you." she said lowering her eyes again

"You’ve got Simon to keep you busy." he said, nodding down to the dog who was sat watching them both. "And Sammy to placate when he growls at him or eats his shoe. Jake to take you diving, Max to…well…just be Max and Rachel…" he paused to lift her chin to make her look at him  "You got your safe place for when it all gets too much, the sea, the stars at night…what else could you ask for?"

"Well, when you put it like that I’m not sure." she chuckled.

There it is, that damned smile. Ari thought as he chuckled too. "Guess I made my point."

There was a slight pause as he reached for her hands, his fingers caressing hers “I’ll miss you too Han, more than you know.” he said before pressing his forehead to hers.

"But you’re gonna.."

"I’m going to see my daughter, that’s all I care about in Tel Aviv." he paused before asking her again the million dollar question "Why are you so bothered, Han? Tell me honestly."

Hannah swallowed, her fingers fiddling with his as their hands are laced together "I just…what if you see Sarah and decide you want her back."

"But why do you care?" Ari asked, he was frustrated at this point and he knew his voice showed it. They were going round in circles and he just wanted her to say it.

She pulled back to look at him, her eyes locked onto his, their faces inches away.

"Because I wouldn’t be able to…" she swallowed once more, stumbling over her words "It would break me again Ari. I’d be happy for you but…”

She had said it. She had admitted it out loud. She had feelings for him. Wasn't that what you wanted? Your move Levinson. Ari thought before taking a breath thinking his next words carefully.

"Listen to me carefully, Hannah." he said, sternly.

Hannah was deflated by the look on his face and those words. He had called her Hannah, no Han, no Firefly. She thought that was it, she had pissed him off. She had fucked it up and this time she was the only one to blame.

"There’s no chance I want her back, even if she wanted me, which she doesn’t. We’re over." 

"But for Maya." Hannah blurted out. 

"Not the slightest chance, Firefly." he said, taking her face in his hands.

Hannah then let out the breath she had been holding and sniffed.

"God, I’ve been going out of my head for almost a month, Han. Going over that afternoon in Port Sudan  and that kiss…" Ari confided, tracing her lips with his thumb at the mention of the kiss.

And she gasped. It was electric. An electric blue bolt of lightning sending shivers down her spine.

"Me too…" she whispered, trying to recover from the jolt that had just travelled through her body “Why are we so shit at communicating?"

"I did try and find you at your spot a few times but someone always got in the way" Ari admitted.

"Story of our lives huh?" she said with a soft smile.

"Yup." Ari chuckled "Maybe it's time we changed that…" he said as he cupped her face in his hands. "Wait for me to get back…"

"Not like I can go anywhere, mi lobo." she said smiling at him.

And Ari knew why. MI...not EL, MI. My. It had been 9 years since she uttered those words to him. His heart was literally bursting and at that point he thought fuck Sammy, fuck Andy, fuck Max. He didn't care anymore.  With his hands still on her cheeks he tilted her face to meet his and kissed her. And it was everything he needed and more. It was only them now, as far as he was concerned the world could go to hell. It was soft, gentle, but oh so loaded at the same time and when he pulled away eventually, he kept his head pressing to hers.

"You said Mi…" he whispered.

Hannah bit her lower lip, a wide smile forming on her face and was about to reply when there was a loud noise outside and Simon started barking.

"I best go, it's an early flight." Ari said, fighting the urge to press her body against his and never let go. But he was leaving the following day and it wouldn't be fair for any of them.

"Ok…" Hannah nodded.

Ari turned slowly to go, his hand still on hers for as long as his reach would allow but had to let go when he reached the door.

"Come back to me this time." Hannah said before he opened the door.

Ari paused and turned to look at her "Promise…my firefly." When he left her hut, a smile that could lit up an entire city on his face, the feeling in his chest was warm. That crappy pang he had associated with being around her over the past few months gone, hopefully for good.

********

Ari left before breakfast the next morning, his flight was early. Nevertheless all the agents were up to bid him a good trip. He shook hands with the boys, hugged Rachel and finally reached Hannah. Giving her a smile he swept her into his arms and she closed her eyes momentarily, holding him close before she stepped back and smiled, both of them trying to play it cool. Tearing his eyes away from her he crouched down to give Simon a scratch, the dog leaping up at him to lick his face.

“Gonna miss you too.” he said quietly, and Hannah knew full well he wasn’t just talking to the dog.

The day was fairly busy, which kept Hannah occupied for the most of it, right through until the evening at which point she bid them good night and headed off to take Simon for his usual pre-bed walk.

“Mind if I join you?” Rachel asked “I haven’t stretched my legs properly all day.”

“Sure.” Hannah looked at her, and the two women headed out onto the sand.

“So, You and Ari…” Rachel said as soon as they were out of ear shot. Hannah spun to face her, frowning.

“Me and Ari what?” “Don’t play dumb with me, Cracker.” Rachel looked at her “I saw the way he was hugging you before, and the way he looked at you as Sammy drove them away.”

Hannah sighed, and knew there was no point playing dumb. “You know, it’s pathetic really. I mean I hadn’t seen anything or heard anything from him since Andy’s funeral and then within 6 weeks of us being here I’m catapulted right back to where I was 9 years ago.” “Must have been some fling…” Rachel looked at her, and Hannah snorted.

“You know full well it was more than that.”

“You loved him.” Rachel shrugged

“Ironic thing is I never told him.” Hannah sighed “Not whilst we were together anyway. I came close once.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, it felt too soon, you know, we’d only really been dating a few weeks.” Hannah shrugged “But if I’m honest, I fell for him way before we got together.” She stopped walking and looked around, before she gestured with her head and Rachel followed her lead, sitting on the sand besides her. “I remember the nigh though. Instead of using the actual 3 words I told him that I’d fallen for him years ago. We’d been on a date, just a small restaurant not far from his and we were walking home…”

“You know, everyone at work keeps asking me who my mystery girlfriend is.” Ari’s glanced down at Hannah as they walked down the pavement, his hand around hers.

“I thought you liked the secrecy?”

“Yeah, well, as much as it’s been fun I’d like to be able to introduce you as my girl one day.” he looked at her.

“I’d like that too.” Hannah smiled.

“Though you friend, Abi is it? Yeah she might not like it that much…” Ari said and Hannah let out a snort.

“Yeah, she would go mad. She keeps on asking me about you.”

“Really? What’s she say?”

Hannah laughed, “Fuck off Lobo,” she said, shoving him playfully in his chest.

“Easy firefly…” he caught her hand softly, raising it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her wrist “She never stood a chance”

“Neither did I” Hannah look at him as his fingers laced through hers.

“What do you mean?” Ari frowned.

“The minute I met you I was a goner, Ari”

“But you’ve been dating other guys, I’ve met some of them.” he looked at her.

“Yeah, but they weren’t you. I knew you were out of my league but still, always hoped one day you’d see me.”

Ari took a deep breath and shook his head “I saw you, Hannah. How could I not? You were this smart, sassy kid, old before her time. I constantly had to remind myself how young you were and then I watched you grow up…” He smiled “And then, a few months after your 18th, at your graduation I came over and for the first time, well I saw you then as this gorgeous young woman, not just that sassy little kid and…” he shrugged, trailing off.

Hannah shook her head, her eyes fixing on Simon who was barking at his reflection on the calm ocean.

“It was funny that he brought up my graduation, as that was when I fell for him big time. I’d always had a crush on him, you know…” “Every little sister does on their older brother’s friends.” Rachel said wisely, and Hannah nodded.

“But then he gave me a pair of earrings. Just silver ones, in the shape of a crescent moon as a congratulations. But, they were so special because it was a little joke between us, you know, the fact I used to say he probably turned into a werewolf every full moon because he used to eat mama out of house and home…” “El Lobo Hambriento…” Rachel repeated and Hannah nodded.

“But that…that was the moment. He’d gone to enough effort to get me something that was personal and meant something to us both and I knew then I was falling for a guy I had no chance with. I tried so hard to ignore it. I dated other guys but it was pointless. And then on my 21st.” she shrugged “We had a whirlwind of a 3 months before he ended it and left. I heard nothing more until Sammy told me he had a girlfriend. So that was that, and it turns out it was all down to my late husband.”

“That must have been really hard.” Rachel said after a pause

“Well, I knuckled down, finished medical school and pretended I was ok.” Hannah shrugged “Even went to his wedding because I figured having him in my life one way was better than not at all. I didn’t see much of him then until I joined Mossad 2 years later.”

“Did he go to your wedding?” Rachel asked.

“No.” Hannah shook her head “I dunno why. Maybe he was on a mission, maybe he was too busy living his life with his then wife and kid…I never asked.” she took a deep breath and smiled as Simon bounded back across the sand towards her, flopping down onto his back for a belly rub which she happily provided “And then Andy died and just when I was beginning to come to terms with it all Ari shows up at the clinic and I find myself here in the desert and once more he’s turning my life upside down.”

“Maybe you need to set it the right way up again.” Rachel looked at her. “What’s stopping you, honestly?”

Hannah shrugged “Look, the other night, you’re right…we had a moment. Just a kiss, nothing more, and then last night we talked about it, kissed again and I dunno, maybe when he comes back…” She trailed off.

“Do you both want it?” Rachel looked at her. “To try again I mean?”

“I know I do and he says he does so…” she shrugged “I just…is going back over old ground the right thing to do Rachel? I mean we’re here…then there’s Sammy and his fucking reaction and…” she shook her head as she glanced out over the ocean. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it.” Rachel said, laying her hand on Hannah’s arm “Look, screw Sammy and screw everyone else. If they weren’t in the picture…” “Then I wouldn’t hesitate.” Hannah looked at her friend. “You know, I loved Andy, and in a way despite me being so angry at him, I always will do but what I felt when I was with Ari, well, it was like this raging fire, it consumed every single part of me whereas Andy felt safe...not that I was any less happy with Andy, I wasn’t but…”

“Was Ari your first?” Rachel looked at her, and Hannah nodded. “That’s why it felt like that.” Rachel continued wisely. “You were discovering things, it will have been exciting, passionate…” “I know, and I understand that we’re both different people now and I don’t know whether, even without everyone interfering we would have made it back then, probably not to be honest but I’m wondering if this was life’s little plan all along. A way of giving us a second chance when we both have a more mature understanding of what we had…does that make sense?”

Rachel smiled and placed an arm around Hannah’s shoulder “Perfectly.”

“You cannot tell Sammy.” Hannah looked at her “Not until Ari comes back and we’ve decided on what is gonna happen…if anything.”

“Cross my heart.” Rachel smiled.

Hannah, satisfied she could trust the woman turned her attention to the ocean. She knew Ari would be home now, and she couldn’t help wondering if she was on his mind, as much as he was on hers…

******** Ari was exhausted. Upon landing back in Tel Aviv he had been greeted by Ethan, and he’d been back into HQ for an hour or so before heading to his apartment. Thankfully, Mossad had agreed to keep funding the rental fees whilst he was away which at least meant he didn’t have to stay in a hotel on his trips back home. He’d debated calling Sarah to tell her he was back, but it was getting late and not wanting to wake Maya he had instead decided to call in the morning.

He showered, revelling in the comfort of having decent water pressure before he collapsed into bed. But try as he might, as tired as he was he just couldn’t turn off. His mind was wandering, in particular over everything that had happened with Hannah just before he had left. She’d basically admitted to him what he knew anyway, that her feelings for him were still there, and moreover that there was a chance that they could make something out of the whole sorry mess. He should be happy, and he was, but part of him was still tentative. There was a lot at stake, if it went wrong they were stuck, thousands of miles away from home…and he didn’t even want to think about Sammy’s reaction, or Andy for that matter. What he did know, however, was that whatever they both decided it was going to be their decision. He wasn’t letting anyone make it for them, not like last time.

The rain was lashing against the windows, and he was suddenly taken back to a rainy evening one March almost 9 years ago when he and Hannah had been out for something to eat. They were walking back to his and she was telling him how she’d fallen for him big time over a pair of earrings he had bought her. He had just been about to tease her about being materialistic when the heavens had opened…

“SHIT!” Hannah shrieked, ducking as if that would prevent the rain from hitting her. She pulled her jacket a little tighter around her but the rain fall was ridiculously heavy.

“Come on!” He said, tugging on her hand and the two of them began to run towards the doorway of a shop. Ari pulled her under the awning, glancing down at her. Her hair was dripping, sticking to her face and she looked at him and started to giggle. Her jacket wasn’t done up all the way, and he could just see the rivulets of water trickling between the swell of her breasts, through her cleavage and dampening the fabric of her little flowery dress.

“My face is up here.” She quipped and immediately his eyes flew to hers and he gave her a sheepish grin, before he arched an eyebrow.

“Seems I inadvertently got you a little wet.”

She snorted, shaking her head at the joke and then looked up at him, her eyes flashing as she bit her lip.

“Better take me home and do something about it then,”

Ari groaned at the memory of her, stood there in front of him. They’d only been dating a few weeks at that point and he’d taken it slow, deliberately not wanting to rush her but as she stood there in front of him, giving him the blatant come on, her eyes fixed on his, not a shred of doubt in them, he’d pretty much dragged her back to his. He shifted slightly on the soft mattress, his hand sliding into his boxers. Just that image of her in front of him had him hard as fuck, and he needed to do something about it. With slow, deliberate strokes he began to palm himself to the memory which was now fresh in his mind…

As Ari was fetching them both a towel each from the bathroom, he heard Hannah on the phone speaking in Spanish to her mama. When he walked into the living room she was just finishing up and he handed her the towel which she used to start drying out her hair as she kicked off her shoes.

“Mama ok?” he asked.

“Yeah she’s fine. Didn’t ask where I was,” she paused, squeezing her long locks with the towel, “which suits me as I didn’t have to lie.” Ari sighed. “I meant what I said before. I don’t want it to be like this forever.” “Me neither.” she agreed. “But, I just don’t want anyone interfering. Not yet anyway.”

He smiled and used the towel he had grabbed himself, to rub at his hair and face, emerging from it and Hannah giggled, reaching up to smooth down his hair.

“This is getting long.” Her nails raked on his scalp as she straightened it down.

“I might grow it.” He mused.

“As long as it’s not into a mullet.” At that he laughed, his hands falling to her hips. “Not a chance Firefly.” She looked at him as she continued to attempt to dry her hair before he couldn’t take it anymore. Gently he took the towel off her and tossed it, along with his own, over to the sofa, before his hands cupped her face and he kissed her slowly. Her hands fell to his waist, tangling in the bottom of his grey shirt and he let out a little sigh at the feel of her fingers brushing his skin. She pulled back slightly and he pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing deeply and she looked at him, giving him the same eyes she had in the shop doorway.

“Lobo…” she swallowed.

“What do you want Firefly?”

“You…” She blinked up at him. “All of you.” At that his cocky demeanour wavered slightly. She’d told him only a few days ago when they’d been getting a little heavy on his couch that she was a virgin. She’d done other things, but not that, and now the thought of him being her first…well it was a head fuck. But a good head fuck.

“You sure?” He asked, searching her face for any shred of doubt. But he found none. Instead she nodded and bit her lip. Permission granted he’d reached down, gripped the soft flesh at the top of the back of her thighs and hauled her up, her legs locking around his waist. His lips smashed onto hers, their teeth clanging together in the urgency of the kiss as he carried her over the hall to his bedroom, where he softly set her down on her feet, flicking the lamp on besides him.

She’d stood, looking up at him, all doe eyes and damp hair and he’d had to fight back every single urge he had to push her back on the bed and fuck the life out of her. He wanted her first time to be soft, gentle, special. So instead, with a restraint he wasn’t sure he even possessed up until that moment, he reached out and pulled her to him again, kissing her softly and her fingers drifted to the buttons on his shirt. She broke the kiss so she could look down, her hands fumbling slightly but Ari let her carry on. Eventually she had it open and she pushed it back off his shoulders and down his arms where he then shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor. She looked at him, biting that damned bottom lip again and Ari couldn’t help but feel slightly smug at the hungry way her eyes were roving his torso. He ran, worked out with weights and he knew he wasn’t in bad shape. He couldn’t afford to be with his job after all, but he was enjoying the appreciative way she was taking in his broad shoulders and chest, following the strip of hair down to his waistband. She looked up at him once more, reaching out with her hands and she smoothed her fingers over his chest to his shoulders as he leaned down and caught her mouth again. This time his hands moved to the back of her dress, finding the buttons and he flicked them open one by one. Hannah stilled at little and he stopped, glancing down.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just, no one’s ever seen me…”

“Let me.” He whispered softly, almost pleading.

Her cheeks flushed red and she moved her arms to allow the dress to fall down, shimmying out of it as it dropped over her hips and Ari let out a soft groan as he took her in from toe to head. Lithe legs gave way to a softer curve over her thighs and hips, up to her trim stomach, her waist cinched in before it met the swell of her perfectly proportioned breasts which he’d always had a real thing for. She was dressed in a simple matching cotton pair of baby blue panties and bra, and the pure innocence of it was driving him wild.

“See,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers, “beautiful, my firefly…”

He leaned down and dropped a kiss to the crook of her neck and shoulder and she gave a little shiver.

“Like that?” he asked softly, she nodded so he did it again, his arm curling around her waist, holding her still, letting her get lost in the sensations as he lavished affection on her, working across her collar bone to the other side, before he trailed hot kisses up her jaw line, pressing his lips to hers again. She kissed him back, the kiss hungry as her hands tangled in his hair. Taking the lead, he backed her up slightly, until her knees folded against the edge of the bed and she sat down. Her eyes were level with the top of his jeans now, and there was no hiding the evident bulge at his crotch. She glanced up at him, giving him a little smirk, almost of pride, before she popped the button on his jeans. She tugged them down, and he stepped out of them, leaving him in his tight boxers and he crawled over her as she moved up the bed, settling into the space between her legs. His hands trailed up the outside of her thighs to her hips and up her ribcage before he gently palmed her breast over her bra. He felt her relax under him, which is what he wanted, and he gently pressed a kiss to her shoulder as he pulled down her bra strap, repeating the motion at the other side. He slid his hands underneath her and she arched her back allowing him to pop the clasp. Taking another look at her, she nodded and he pulled the garment away, and he glanced down, taking in her bare breasts with a soft moan.

“Fuck, Han,” he groaned softly, his mouth dropping to her cleavage, soft kisses trailing up her sternum as his thumbs softly skated over her nipples. She wriggled a little, letting out a tiny whimper at his actions which encouraged him and he moved his mouth over to take over from his left hand, gently flicking his tongue.

“Shit, Ari…” she gasped, her hips bucking upwards slightly and he ground down against her, this time her noise was louder as she mewled at the contact, her hands fisting around the duvet at either side of her. He moved his attention to the other breast, repeating his action, drawing more noises and reactions from her, before his lips moved downwards, trailing over her belly where he gently rubbed his nose above the waistband of her panties. Glancing up at her again, she was watching him, her eyes wide with excitement and he hooked his fingers into the cotton, sliding them down her legs. He knelt up, taking a second to look at her before he parted her knees with his hands. He felt her shift slightly and looked up, that bashful tinge was back on her cheeks.

“Hey…” he said, looking at her as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. "You trust me?”

“With my life, Mi lobo…”

That fucking name did things to him, and once more he found himself fighting to keep control. But knowing he had to take it slow he did just that, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her thigh before he reached his goal and gently slid his tongue up her entrance, causing her hips to buck again.

“Easy firefly…” he mumbled gently, his arm looping over her waist to keep her still as he gently lapped at her, teasing her sensitive bundle of nerves before his tongue poked deeper into her, fucking her with his mouth. She writhed as much as she could, her breathing deep, almost at a pant and he glanced up to see her head was thrown back against his pillow, mouth forming a perfect O shape, and her hands were flat against the bed. With his spare one he reached up, taking her right hand and he placed it on his head, where she gently gripped at his hair. As he continued to eat her out, god she tasted amazing, her fingers tightened, and at one point she pulled on his hair to the point of it being painful. He let out a groan and she stopped and he glanced up.

“Sorry….” she began to apologise but he shook his head.

“Don’t, I like it.” She arched an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t give her much time to think about it as his mouth set to her once more. As he continued alternating his attention between her entrance and her clit, her breathing became nothing but a sharp, staccato pans and he felt her legs beginning to tremble.

“Oh, God, Ari…” she keened above him and he gave a little grin as he upped his speed slightly., “I’m…gonna…” and with that she gave a loud cry, her hips jumping upwards as her body trembled. Her legs became rigid for a second before she relaxed, completely boneless in the after throws of her orgasm. Knowing she’d be sensitive, he moved away slightly, wiping his mouth on his arm as he crawled up her body.

“Good?” he asked, already knowing the answer as she was utterly wrecked beneath him, but he wanted to hear it from her.

“Yeah…really good…” she panted, her eyes flickering open to lock onto his before he kissed her again. She was clearly feeling a little braver now as her fingers grasped at the waistband of his boxers and she pushed them down. He shuffled out of them before he practically fell over her, propping himself up on his elbows, and she looked at him for a second, her hand pushing into his hair.

“You got any….” “Top drawer.” he nodded, to the nightstand. She shuffled slightly and he sat back on his heels, his erection hard and slapping against his abs as she found the condom and handed it to him. He easily tore it from the packet, and once he’d carefully rolled it down over himself he moved forwards again, so he was settled and lined up. Taking another look at her face, once more making seeking assurance she was absolutely sure, she nodded and slowly he began to push into her. She tensed up a little, her hands gripping at his forearm and he took his time, gently moving his hips until he was fully sheathed inside her.

“You ok?” he panted, she felt tight and warm around him and fuck, it was euphoric.

“Yeah…” she assured him. “Just go slow.” “I got you sweetheart.” He gently pressed a kiss to her mouth, moving his hips back before he slowly pushed into her again, and again, taking his time, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he caged her between his arms. He gently pressed a kiss to her hair line as he ground into her again, causing her breath to catch in her throat, but it wasn’t in pain. No, he could tell she was enjoying this. Taking that as encouragement he repeated the action and her hands tightened around his biceps.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice ragged and she nodded eagerly.

“Feels good.” she panted, as he pushed up against her, his hips bumping hers as he continued his movements, picking up the pace ever so slightly, but all the time being careful to still take his time. Her hands hooked round his shoulders and he pressed a bit more of his weight onto her as he found a slow, steady rhythm. It wasn’t long before he began to feel the warming deep in the pit of his stomach and balls, and he really wanted to get her there again, but was now beginning to question how much longer he was going to last. His lips met hers, the kiss desperate, and she cried out into his mouth as he pushed deeper. He could feel her fluttering around him and he knew she was close.

“Come on Firefly…come on…come on…” he said, his breathing deep in between each word as he nudged at her chin with his nose, gently nipping along her jaw line before he softly sucked at the point under her ear and with another push upwards he felt her tense and she gave a desperate mewl once more, her nails digging into his shoulders, before she stilled completely, her mouth slackening, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her release crashing over her in wave after wave. A few thrusts later Ari found his own, the coil in his belly finally slapping and with a loud cry he came, hard, his hips stuttering before they slowed completely and he gently fell forward, his face burying into her neck. He stayed still for a moment, waiting for the world to tip the right way up again, and he moved his head to kiss her, both his hands holding her face before he pressed his forehead to hers. She smiled at him, her lips once more meeting his as her breathing started to even out.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly and she shook her head.

“No, no you didn’t.” she smiled “That was…that was perfect Ari…”

With a loud groan Ari finally brought himself off and felt the hot, white ribbons streak over his abs as he gently worked himself through his release. With a sigh his head fell back against the pillow and he gave himself a moment before he reached over for a tissue from the box by his bed.

“That was perfect Ari…”

Hannah’s voice echoed round his head and he swallowed as he cleaned himself up. Yes, it had been perfect, he’d loved the fact he’d been her first. Something no one else could ever claim. With a sigh he tossed the tissue to the side, his breathing deep as he settled himself down for the night, the earlier tension and unrest he had been feeling slightly abated. Jerking off to his own internal filthy thoughts was nowhere near as good as the real thing but for the time being, a memory would have to do.

**** Chapter 7

[unicyclehippo]

beaujes + "when did you know"

‘can i talk you for a second?’

‘talk you?’ fjord repeats, looking up from polishing his shield with a teasing grin. the expression falls away when he sees the serious look beau levels his way. ‘yeah. yeah, of course. here? or do you wanna...’

beau looks around the clearing, at the others still too close, and she tilts her head toward a nearby set of trees. the spreading vines that wrap tight around the trunks and hang from the branches make a decent curtain but they’re not too far if something comes up. fjord nods and follows her over.

‘everything...alright?’ fjord broaches when beau doesn’t speak for a while.

lightning blue eyes flash to him and for a moment he thinks she’s mad at him—she’s scowling and tense, arms folded—but then she breathes out and the electric charge that surrounds her is gone.

it feels strange; he hadn’t noticed when that tension had begun but now that she has let it go...he thinks it might’ve been there for a while. it’s nothing like her usual energy, always watchful but easy about it. it’s as though that watchful energy had, bit by bit, been needled so many times that she’s completely on edge, unable to slow down or stop looking, and fjord wants to kick himself for not realising it sooner. but he can’t, because she has set that watchful burden down now for the first time in—if he had to guess—a week, set it down at his feet, is trusting him to take it from her and listen and watch her back. the trust makes his heart clench cold and small in his chest, an answering call somewhere deep in his gut that says, if it comes to it, fjord will draw on some pretty terrible powers to protect this girl, his best friend.

‘everything’s fucked,’ beau sighs, rubs a hand over her weary face.

‘not everything. we still have you.’ fjord isn’t as practised at pushing true emotion into his voice as he is at controlling it, but he thinks he succeeds at sounding thankful, and pleased, and relieved, and maybe a little sad when beau looks quickly up at him and then away, rubbing at the back of her neck.

‘yeah. uh. yep.’

‘do i need to have this conversation again?’

‘please don’t,’ beau bites out. fjord nearly laughs but there’s a new desperation in her voice he can’t place.

‘beau?’

she shakes her head. presses her folded arms tighter to her chest. ‘um. look, there’s - something i wanted to talk to you about. and it’s -‘ her forehead crumples into a frown she directs down at the jungle floor. kicks a curious beetle that is crawling over her booted toe somewhere deeper into the underbrush. ‘it might ... change some stuff.’ her face is smooth, other than that hint of a frown, and he can’t pick what she means from it. ‘about me. and you.’

fjord has no idea what that could mean. he goes about asking subtly. ‘what do you mean?’

‘it’s - i appreciate,’ she says, picking her words carefully, ‘what you said. yesterday.’

‘shit, beau - about caring about you?’ now it’s fjord’s turn to rub at his eyes. ‘it’s not something to appre— it’s the truth, beau.’

‘i know, i know,’ she’s quick to assure him. he’s assured for less than a second because she continues with, ‘i know you think that. but-‘

fjord sets his hands on her shoulders. pulls her to face him dead on. ‘i love you, beau. you’re my best friend - nothing could change that. yeah, you’re a shit kicker and you’re smarter than all of us, especially with,’ he flicks the headband, ignores her petulant ow. ‘but even if you were dumb as a brick and couldn’t punch for shit - you’re still our beau.’

‘you don’t know that,’ she points out, which he’s relieved to hear sounds more amused than anything. ‘like, it’s impossible to know that. if i couldn’t punch people, i wouldn’t be me.’

‘you do like to punch,’ fjord agrees, allowing the sidestep, the distraction. ‘you’re good at it.’

‘great at it, thanks.’

they share a grin. fjord hopes that’s the end of it—she needed reassurance and he is happy, more than happy, to provide it. but then beau’s smile slips, first from one side of her lips and then the other before it washes right off her face. he watches as she forces herself to look him in the eye, hold herself steady.

‘i gotta tell you something,’ she says, ‘and it - i’m never gonna do anything about it but it might change things. it will. and,’

‘something i won’t like?’ he asks. beau just looks at him, which is a yes. ‘if you’re never doing anything about it, why tell me? are you trying to make me hate you or something?’

something flickers in beau’s eyes. her voice is abruptly hoarse when she speaks. ‘i don’t want you to hate me. that - would suck. but i gotta tell you now because i- already told someone else and if it comes out ... i don’t want you blindsided and hating me more.’ her voice cracks, quavers the smallest bit and she swallows hard, turns her head away to clear her throat.

he stares down at her, confused. his fingers squeeze gently onto her shoulders out of instinct; she’s shivering, shaking with nerves.

‘okay,’ he says, and when she looks up at him, eyes wet but not yet overflowing, face set in determination that can’t quite cover fear, fjord feels something in him settle. he knows, even if she doesn’t, that there’s nothing she could say now that could break this. nothing that could make him not love her. fjord imagines himself a deep ocean, the one that comes to him when he meditates—uk’otoa’s gifts sunken in its far reaches, the wildmother’s gifts the sky and sea and sunlight, and within that ocean there are boundless stretches that is all him, all fjord, and the tides that pull him pull in one direction—toward beau, toward his friends, toward this weird little family they have made. he’s never said anything like that before so there’s no reason beau should know that, but he knows now. ‘tell me,’ he says, and he fixes his attention on her, meeting her eyes with all the calm certainty of a tranquil sea.

beau opens her mouth. her nose is going red with the effort of not crying. she closes her mouth. makes a sound in the back of her throat like she’s clearing it.

‘i - didn’t mean to,’ she says. ‘i need you to know that, i didn’t mean to, it wasn’t supposed to happen, i didn’t intend for—‘ she stops when he rubs his thumb soothingly over her shoulder. draws in a steadying breath. ‘i like jester,’ beau tells him, and for all that she is technically meeting his eyes, she’s entirely checked out, sunken so far back behind her walls that fjord can’t hardly see her. ‘i like her a lot, and i’m never gonna do anything or tell her if i can help it but nott knows and—‘

‘she runs her mouth on a good day, let alone halfway through withdrawals?’

‘yeah.’ there’s a flicker of normal beau, cautious, when he doesn’t immediately denounce her. he doesn’t know if he could denounce her, not when he knows how that feels. if anything, if anything, could it just be another thing they share? ‘she hasn’t said anything yet, so i’m hoping—‘ she cuts herself off when fjord frowns.

‘hold on.’ he tries to temper his tone, he really does, but a lash of sharpness still makes it in there. beau curls deeper into herself. ‘you thought i would hate you?’

‘i—‘

‘that’s insane!’

‘no, it’s not!’

‘yes, beau, it is.’ he gives her a gentle shake, like he can somehow get her brain to finally sit right and understand what he is saying. ‘how the fuck could i hate you for—you don’t—that’s mad, beau! you can’t pick and choose who you fall for, and if it’s anyone’s fault, let’s be real here, this is jester’s fault for being—what did vendetta call her?’

beau snorts. ‘aggressively likeable.’

‘aggressively likeable,’ fjord repeats, nodding. ‘that’s our girl.’ he waits a moment, turning over reassurances and questions in his head; he can admit that he doesn’t really know what to say so he just goes with his instincts, which have only failed him a few times, and pulls beau in for a hug.

her folded arms are trapped between them and fjord feels her tense even more before suddenly she’s wriggling in the cradle of his arms and freeing her hands, wrapping them tight around him. he groans dramatically at the pressure, grins when she laughs.

‘so,’ she says, quiet, soft, nervous. not like beau at all. ‘you - don’t hate me?’

fjord’s arms tighten around her. ‘no.’ the word is firm. certain. he feels it hit and stun her, feels her go lax against him. ‘your parents really fucked you up, huh.’

beau snorts wet against his shoulder. ‘a bit. i had a hand in it too.’

‘no, i don’t think you did,’ he tells her thoughtfully.’

‘you don’t know—‘

‘i’ve never seen you look the way you did when you told us about the winery,’ he continues over her and beau falls quiet. ‘i didn’t—i actually think it might’ve been the first time you’ve admitted to wanting something.’

‘you make me sound like a freak,’ beau grumbles.

‘not a freak. well. a bit of a freak,’ he amends, and is pleased to peek down and see the hint of a smile on her face. ‘it’s a shitty kind of parent who makes a kid feel like they aren’t allowed to want things.’

‘i could want things,’ beau defends instantly. fjord waits. then, ‘it just...had to be the same as he wanted.’

‘mhm. i hate your dad.’

beau’s fingers drum restlessly against the leather of his chest piece. ‘he’s—‘

‘say complicated again. i dare you.’ beau stays silent. ‘you don’t have to hate him. not entirely. you don’t have to pick one way or the other. but i can hate him for you. if you want.’

beau leans heavier still into him. he wonders at it—this is the longest they’ve ever hugged before, the longest he’s had beau stand still before, and he’s surprised to realise that she’s short. she fits snug under his chin, which he rests atop her head.

‘jes—she wants me to forgive him. or try. she thinks he loves me.’

‘reckon that had any hand in your whole spiral? wanting to leave us?’ he regrets the snide tone immediately when beau pulls away. she doesn’t fold into herself again, looks a little more even keel, but she’s closed off somewhat.

‘i said i’m sorry.’

‘you don’t—beau,’ he sighs. ‘you don’t have to be sorry. i’m not gonna stand here and say i understand but...we just wanna know you’re not gonna offer that again. or walk away next time we zip to zadash.’

‘oh, alliteration.’

‘thought you might like it.’

‘i—‘ beau looks away.

‘jester would be really upset,’ fjord tells her, and grins broadly at the look of outrage that crosses beau’s face.

‘no! absolutely not! i didn’t tell you this so that you could use it against me—‘

‘just so i’d hate you and give you a reason to run?’ that had clicked, finally, and he knows he’s right when shame engulfs beau’s expression.

‘i’m sorry,’ she says again, and he can only sigh.

‘do you even know what you’re apologising for?’ beau looks to hesitate. fjord shakes his head. ‘whatever it is... just make sure it isn’t - that you’re not apologising for being you,’ he says and prods a finger against her chest. ‘i spent months pretending to be someone else, and years before that hating who i was so...i get what you’re feeling. kinda. i was shit scared giving up my powers because i’d let them be who i was instead of something i used.’ beau nods reassuringly and fjord feels a flicker of fond exasperation. smiles down at her. ‘i don’t need to be supported, beau, i’m supporting you.’

‘you were fuckin’ - brave and awesome, okay? i can support that. shut up.’

he rolls his eyes. when he’s done, he frowns down at the ground, the knotted roots and vines.

‘sacrificing yourself ... isn’t your power. it’s not what we need from you, like the snea snakes power wasn’t — what i am, all that i am. we want you, beau.’

he knows it’s not over, not yet fully understood, but he counts it as a success when beau nods slowly. she looks thoughtful, which is better than despair. far better.

‘did you really think i’d hate you?’

beau’s eyes drop and she shrugs, looking every inch an awkward teen. he wonders idly how old she actually is—older than twenty, maybe mid-twenties? she mutters something he doesn’t catch.

‘huh?’

‘how do you feel?’ she snaps. a little louder and crankier than intended, obviously, because she winces.

‘about—‘ he gestures to her and then back toward the camp. beau nods. fjord tucks his thumbs onto his belt, shifts his weight as he thinks, knowing beau won’t be reassured by a half-answer. ‘i don’t know.’

beau grunts.

‘things are complicated.’

she laughs. ‘tell me about it.’

‘there’s so much that i still don’t know. about me. about what the hell we’re doing. about my powers and whether when we get to the ocean uk’otoa is going to drown me,’ he says, which earns him a long, thoughtful look. he hadn’t meant to say it but he’s glad that it was beau he said it to, rather than anyone else. she’s steady, usually, and has his back.

‘i’m a good swimmer,’ she says.

‘you’ll pull me back on the boat?’

‘on the quick, captain.’

they trade smiles. fjord continues.

‘i don’t know how much space there is in that for romance. and - and i like jester, i do, it’s just... sometimes i think, and it’s not her fault i pretended to be someone else for months, but i don’t think she sees me all the time. she can’t,’ he tells beau. ‘i don’t even know who i am, so how can she?’ beau nods. she doesn’t try to convince him or reassure him, just puts a hand on his arm. ‘can i ask you something? you can say no.’ he waits for her to nod, then, ‘when did you know? that you liked her?’

for a moment, he thinks she’s not going to answer. but then the words start, haltingly at first before he recognises the softness in her tone and everything comes a little easier. that’s the jester of it all, he knows. it’s easy to love her.

‘it’s - been a bit. a long while, i guess. not from the start. she just - was always funny and fun, yknow?’ he nods. he does know. ‘and then things started getting hard and i dunno, i was ready to protect her because she’s jester but she—she’s strong. really strong. and kind? and even though we kept seeing all this awful shit, she keeps being kind and it’s weird in a totally jester way. it’s amazing? and i don’t know when it happened but one day i just realised i’d do a lot to make sure she never felt like that effort was wasted and maybe help her out and—yeah. i’m not—it’s not something i’m gonna do anything about,’ she is quick to assure him, ‘i’m not gonna tell her or anything, it’s just a crush,’ beau lies, ‘but it’s there.’

fjord thinks—he doesn’t know, he never seems to know anything for certain anymore, the world so much more complex than he had ever given it credit for, but he thinks—that there is something deeply sad about the idea that beau won’t tell jester. there’s a hurt in his chest at the idea of jester being with beau, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as he thought it might. whether that’s because he loves beau too, or because he doesn’t love jester as much as he thought, or because he knows how good beau is and how well she would love jester...he doesn’t know any of that either. but when he thinks on it a second more, a minute more, he can see it. and the sadness tugs at him again, knowing that beau won’t even allow herself to want it.

‘i get it,’ is all he says, because they’ve talked about enough heavy shit, he thinks. ‘kinda makes you wonder what’s wrong with everyone when they’re not head over heels for her, right?’

beau snorts. her eyes brighten with obvious surprise and a hesitant kind of happiness. ‘yeah,’ she agrees, and when fjord doesn’t react poorly to it, to yet another acknowledgement of how she feels, she relaxes into it. shoulders dropping from where they’ve been lifted around her ears the entire time. ‘yeah.’

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Leave No One Behind Ch6: Kiss The Girl

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Ari is trying to find the right moment to talk to Hannah about their kiss but things and people just keep getting in the goddamned way…

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. A world of smut via flashback (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode:  Make It With You by B.R.E.A.D

A/N: So, we promised you some soft daddy Ari, and here he is…you might want to grab a fan or something coz we ain’t gonna lie, this one left us in a puddle on the floor!!!

Series Master List    //   Main Masterlist 

Life can be short or long, love can be right or wrong, And I if chose the one I’d like to help me through, I’d like to make it with you, I really think that we could make it, girl.

It had been days since the kiss, which soon enough turned into weeks. 4 and a half to be exact. Ari knew. He had counted them along with each phase of the moon, and nothing happened. They had kissed and that was it and to say it was bugging him would be an understatement.

He had tried, though. Well, sort of. The night after the kiss, Ari had seen Hannah walking Simon towards her spot as she had gotten used to doing before going to sleep. He had started after her on impulse, but then he had stopped on the beach sand and  chickened out when he realised he hadn't thought about what to say and ended up going back to his hut after finishing his cigarette.

A couple of nights later, he had mustered enough courage and was determined to go after her. He needed to speak to her. He didn't know exactly what he would say but he had come to the conclusion it would be best to wing it and let his mind speak for itself. Just get your ass there and let's see how it goes, Levinson. And then Sammy (who else?!) had appeared with a bottle of whiskey asking him to join him and Jake. It was a good thing, though. They had sorted their differences which had left them on an even keel, although Ari wondered for how long. If Sammy only knew what was on his mind just a few seconds before...  But Sammy had also told him he had also apologised to Hannah so things were getting better, that much was undeniable.

Still, the fact was, that little gathering around a bottle of whiskey had meant Ari had left another few days go without speaking to her. And even though she hadn't reached out to him either and things, everything considered, weren't awkward between them, Ari knew he had to speak to her.

The next chance he got was another few days later. Everyone was busy after dinner and he decided it was the perfect opportunity to go for it. But he had to stop when he met some tourists on the beach near her spot. He had to feign he was checking up on them and after a polite exchange on the wonderful time they were having at the resort he had to turn on his steps and head back to his hut, cursing all the way.

The more time that went by the harder it was getting not only to find the perfect moment but also to gather the courage to have that pending conversation with Hannah. So Ari found himself one night wondering if it was just better left alone. Was there even a pending conversation to have? The atmosphere was good, Hannah was fine with him, even her and Sammy had taken a trip together to Port Sudan and no one had died. That was another bump in the road, every time he commented on having to go to Port Sudan or even Khartoum hoping for Hannah to come with him, someone called dibs or even offered to go on his behalf. So he had stopped faking reasons for the trips and coming up with real reasons as chances were he would end up going with someone else or staying at the resort.

Fortunately Simon made it impossible to stay in a bad mood. The dog was as cheeky as it gets. Hannah had been teaching him some tricks so he now sat, gave his paw and rolled over. Well, sort of, he more like got onto his back and stayed there with his short legs extended in the air. It was hilarious. He also went conveniently deaf whenever anyone other than Hannah or Ari told him to do anything. So it was a common joke now that Simon was his and Hannah's kid, which didn't bother Ari in the slightest. On the contrary, he happily played along when someone told him to take care of his child.

Thus, week after week went by and before they knew it they were in the middle of February and Rachel was preparing to take the first Shore Leave trip home. She was the only one with kids other than Ari, but Maya was with her mother while Rachel's kids were with their grandparents so they all agreed she should be the first to travel home. Hannah would take her place as managing director, aerobics instructor and much to Max and Jake laugh, masseuse.

The night before Rachel travelled to the US, Hannah was in the kitchen feeding Simon after they had already had dinner while the rest of them were chilling on the patio. Rachel had sneaked a bottle of Tequila from the stash of alcohol they had been gathering from their trips to Port Sudan or the nearest village market, to toast for a safe trip home. Jake, encouraged by the Tequila shots he had been gulping, was hitting on a group of young female tourists that were gathered around an improvised bonfire on the beach.

"It's the first time I see him do that in the nearly two months we've been here." Max snorted, seeing Jake stumble on the sand and fall on his ass next to one of the girls.

"Guess the real Jake has taken over Luca Morano." Sammy scoffed.

"It has." Ari chuckled. "Did I ever tell you how I found him with a girl in a decompression tank when I went to recruit him in Belize?"

"Now that's Jake Wolf." Max laughed. "Must have been a sight to see."

"Oh, it was. Stark naked. Refused to cover himself up all through our conversation." Ari confided before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Well, he has managed to keep himself away from tourists until now. We have to give him that." Max commented.

"Maybe it's because Hannah’s not into him after all." Rachel deadpanned, always the perceptive one.

"What do you mean?" Sammy asked or more like groaned.

"Just saying they're not diving as much now as they did before. She’s cooled off, certainly over the last month anyway." she shrugged.

Everyone fell silent for a few minutes, enjoying their shots and taking in Rachel's words. Of course she had noticed, she always did. That was what made her, along with other qualities, one of the best spies Mossad could ever hope for.

Ari could see the clogs in Sammy's brain turning, as usual his brain short-circuited when it came to his sister. He, on the other hand, was low-key pleased to hear that. He wouldn't be feeding himself to the sharks after all and he couldn't help the smile that spread on his face when Hannah came back with Simon and grinned at the sight of Jake flirting with the group of women.

"How's he doing?" she asked, nodding towards Jake before taking a seat next to Ari.

"Working on it." Max answered, looking first at Hannah and then discreetly at Ari who was still smiling widely.

*********

The following morning, after having waved goodbye to Rachel who had left after giving some last minute instructions to Hannah and promising them all to make the most of her week off, Jake, Max, Ari and Hannah were sat at their breakfast table.

"They must think we're stupid." Hannah said, pointing to the fact that Sammy had offered himself, more like jumped to the opportunity of driving Rachel to the airport in Port Sudan.

"What?" Ari asked.

"Ok, maybe you all are stupid." she said rolling her eyes as she poured herself some more coffee.

The three men ignored her jab and looked blankly at one another for what looked like an eternity until Max twigged it. Hannah spotted the exact moment coz he grinned and gave his trademark chuckle. That was enough for Ari to realise as well.

"Rachel and Sammy?" Ari asked, not believing it.

"You're a dumbass, Levinson." Hannah teased him.

Simon then rolled on the floor and gave a loud yip as if to highlight his mum's words.

"Wouldn't be so pleased, pal. He's coming back." Jake said, looking down at the dog.

Everyone chuckled at the comment and as much as Jake tried to hide his hangover behind his shades, his hoarse voice was betraying him.

"This is good." Max said, still grinning. "I mean Sammy needs to get laid, release some tension."

"Don’t we all?" Jake quipped, thus unwillingly confessing he hadn't been lucky the night before.

"Cheers to that." Hannah said, raising her mug.

Max, Jake and Ari all raised their mugs to join Hannah in her toast as they laughed, though Ari was internally groaning. He wasn't expecting having to visit the shower again that morning.

*********

With Rachel gone Hannah was busier than ever as she had to pick up a lot of her chores, including the aerobics classes. Having to witness Hannah every morning clad in those colourful tight leotards and tights, bending and stretching sent Ari into a frenzy. At some point he tried to avoid her classes, either to dodge suspicious looks from Sammy or to prevent Jake from drooling shamelessly over Hannah and other female tourists too.

“What? Why can you be at the classes and I can't?” Jake asked Ari one morning after he gave him a reproachful look because the truth was that Ari’s attempts to avoid them had failed, miserably, and instead he had found any excuse possible to lurk in the reception area. Be it a document he needed to check, a key someone from the staff had asked him for or a glass of water he had to grab from the kitchen, among other things, which always caused some giggles from the group of young female tourists. If they only knew it wasn't about them.

Ari had come to the conclusion that he needed to speak to Hannah, because it was starting to get embarrassing and Simon wasn't helping. The dog was exposing him even more as he would bark at him and look for his attention every time he walked in to the room with another lame ass excuse. He had no idea what he would say or how he would address the elephant in the room after so a month, he just knew he needed to be alone with her or he would go crazy.

However, he failed again and again not only because with Rachel gone Hannah was busier and didn't have much free time but because most of the scarce free time she had was spent with Sammy, who was excessively clingy to his sister.  Ari now realised that Hannah had been right, the man clearly had a thing for the blonde.

Which was even clearer the evening before Rachel was due to return as Sammy had been particularly jovial after a week of exacerbate grumpiness and moping around the resort. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by any of them. What was more, Hannah was not letting the opportunity to tease his brother go by.

Sammy had offered to walk Simon with her before going to sleep and they were walking along the sea shore in a comfortable silence when he threw a stick towards the waves so that Simon could go and fetch it. Hannah didn't hesitate to bug him when he bent to scratch Simon's ear when the dog came back with the stick in his mouth.

"I don’t recognise you, Samuel Navon. You’re even being nice to Simon." she said.

"Well, he’s growing on me." he shrugged, smiling at the dog.

To be honest, Hannah knew Simon was indeed growing on him. The dog had become a sort of celebrity in the resort, with all the guest ladies cooing over him like a baby whenever he was near and him going from group to group of guests on the beach, demanding attention from everyone, most of them willing to give it to him. But, there was something else to Sammy's sudden cheerfulness and Hannah was sure she knew what it was.

"Bullshit. Just yesterday you were wanting to kill him because he chewed your shoes." Hannah smirked, stopping to look at her brother.

"Why does he have to chew my shoes when he has Jake’s shirts to go at?" Sammy whined.

"It’s a woman, isn’t it? More specifically, it’s Rachel. She’s back tomorrow and you’re happy…" Hannah insisted, smiling at him in an attempt to make him confide in her. Sammy had never been the one to let his emotions take over. Even when they were kids she had been the lively, expressive one and he had been the brooding older brother.

"Will you shut up if I tell you it is?" he asked, more of an order than a question. He knew her sister and there was no going back at this point, he had been busted. Better to get it over with in the most graceful manner possible.

Hannah grinned "You sly dog."  and then she offered him a warm smile "Good for you, Sammy.  I’m pleased."

"I don’t know if she feels the same way…so I don’t want to make a fuss about it, ok?" he said, trying to dim his sister's enthusiasm.

"My lips are sealed." she made a zip gesture over her mouth. "But you know there’s only one way to find out? Ask."

"Easier said than done." Sammy scoffed.

Hannah then sighed, "Don’t I know it."

Sammy looked at his sister, his brow furrowing.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh nothing…was just talking in general." she said, trying to make it sound casual.

"No, you weren’t." he retorted.  "But it's ok if you want me to pretend you were. After everything that’s happened I’m probably better off in the dark."

Hannah smiled at her brother's words. After all, he was trying hard not to meddle in her life, unless she asked him to do so, as she had requested when he had apologised to her weeks earlier.

"Just give yourself the chance to be happy, Han." he said as he reached to hug her.

Hannah sighed and leaned into her brother's embrace. She knew full well he didn’t mean Ari when he was talking about her happiness, but that was where her mind went. The thought of Ari's shore leave looming in the horizon, as his turn would come only a few days post Rachel's return, made her shiver. And the realisation that she needed to speak to him before he left hit her like a landslide. She needed to reach out to him before he went back to the real world. To Maya. To Sarah.

"Easier said than done." she forced a smile, repeating her brother’s earlier words back to him.

Rachel returned the following day and she was beaming. Being able to spend time with her kids had, no doubt, suited her. It was now a matter of days for Ari to be able to spend time with Maya and he was looking forward to it. The countdown to his leave officially started and he was excited to see Ethan too as he was proud of how they were set up and operating. His idea of turning the resort into a running hotel had been a great success and Ari couldn't wait to report to Ethan face to face, or Isaacs for that matter. The Head of Mossad had been a whiny bitch about them taking in real tourists and Ari, arrogant as he was at times, was hoping to have the opportunity to rub it in his face.

Yet there was one thing that was bothering him and would keep him awake late at night, and that was Hannah. Over the past few days Ari had noticed she had started to withdraw again. She should have been more relaxed now that Rachel was back but she had become warier and quieter instead. But that wasn't the only thing bugging him. He was well aware that he was going to miss her and he was finding it quite odd. They hadn't seen each other at all over the last four years and now the idea of being apart from her for ten days was bothering him.

They say time flies. Either because you're having a great time or because you don't want time to pass at all, which was the reason in Hannah's case. The night before Ari left they were gathered together as usual after dinner, having drinks and toasting to Ari's safe flight home. Hannah was trying to keep it cool and ignore the churning feeling in her stomach, but she was failing spectacularly. She was a jumble of nerves, she had been for the past few days, but that night it was getting worse so she decided to stop drinking before she barfed or even worse got so drunk she would start doing or saying something she would regret. She felt like she was gonna start crying any minute and Max and Jake goofing around weren't helping her in any way.

"Come on, Red. Drink another shot with me." Jake said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he poured two tequila shots with his free hand.

"I don't want to drink, Jake." she refused the drink with a wave of her hand.

"What? Are you pregnant? Don't tell me, a hairy Nazi knocked you up after a massage." Max snorted, visibly drunk.

"You're not funny, Maxwell. Fuck you." she growled at him, standing up to shove him in the chest almost sending him flying backwards on his chair.

"What's wrong with you, cracker?" he yelled back, visibly surprised, trying not to lose balance as the chair teetered precariously on its back two legs.

All the group, in fact, were surprised. Not only because Hannah and Max were best friends and got on but also because they joked and pranked each other on a daily basis and Hannah had never snapped at him like that. Normally she would have come up with a smart reply and they would have been bickering for minutes but that night Hannah was behaving out of character.

She didn't answer Max, instead she shook her head and left, with Simon following trail. Everyone then turned to glare at Max who shrugged and leaned to grab the bottle of Tequila.

"Something has gotten her on edge. She's been odd for a few days but today she's been particularly bad." Rachel explained, looking worriedly towards the path that led to the huts.

Ari sighed, both of his hands brushing his hair back. He wanted to go after her but wasn't sure if it would be weird in the eyes of the rest of the team.  While debating what to do he looked at Sammy but he was busy looking at her and asking Rachel what she meant. Max was out of the question as he had decided to drown his concern in Tequila shots, so he looked at Jake who nodded meeting Ari's eyes. Go talk to her, he mouthed.

He didn't have to be told twice. Ari stood up and went to find her. In order not to raise suspicions, more on Sammy's part than on anyone else's, he went in the opposite direction before doubling back around the front of the resort. He went to the beach and started walking thinking maybe Hannah had decided to go to her spot on the rocks after all. But she wasn't there so he decided to try her hut. And there she was as he heard Simon bark when he knocked on the door.

"What do you want, Ari?" Hannah asked the moment she opened the door.

She didn't seem surprised to see him at her door but she didn't seem excited or pleased either. She seemed so messed up, as she didn't give a damn about anyone anymore.

"Wanted to see if you’d drive me to the airport tomorrow." he said shyly.

He hadn't thought about what to say to her, not knowing the mood she would be in and the idea came to him out of the blue. He thought it was the perfect chance to be alone, to talk.

Hannah frowned at him "Thought you already asked Sammy."

Busted.

Ari looked down at his feet, put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"What do you really want, Ari? I’m not in the mood." she asked again.

"No, but you’re in A mood. I noticed, matter of fact everyone did..." and then he paused as a thought hit him. As unlikely as it was, he decided to ask anyway, edging his bets. “Is it…is it because I’m leaving tomorrow?"

Ari saw her eyes beginning to cloud and she looked away

“No.”

"You’re as bad a liar as Sammy." he said, trying to lighten up her mood.

But his attempt to make her smile resulted in her turning away from him. She left the door open though so he stepped in and closed it behind him, accepting the silent invitation.

"Firefly I…" he began.

"I’m just stressed Ari…a little homesick too, I miss mama, but that’s it." she cut him off.

"Promise me?" he asked, tilting his head and smiling softly.

"Yes, Ari." she replied drily.

"I don’t believe you." Ari said, his hand caressing her cheek. A bold move if you will but he had nothing to lose at this point.

Hannah started crying immediately and Simon let out a little whine when he heard her. Ari then pulled her in for a hug. He was beginning to wonder if it had been too much but then he felt her shoulders relaxing as her hands connect round his broad back. Simon felt her change in demeanour too and jumped up at them wanting to take part in the comforting gesture, his paws resting against Hannah’s thigh. Hannah chuckled as she stepped back slightly to pet him.

She stayed quiet for a minute, her eyes focussed on the dog and then she lifted her eyes to look Ari before speaking “Are you going to see Maya?”

It was a dumbass question, as she knew perfectly well he was, but he instantly understood what she was really asking. Are you seeing Sarah?

"Is that what’s bothering you?" Ari asked, looking at her with concerned eyes.

"No it’s just I.. " she started protesting but he cut her off.

"Han, if I want to see Maya then I need to speak to Sarah."

Hannah fell silent again, she knew she had just shown her cards so there was no point denying anything anymore. She looked down and started fiddling with the hem of her top for a few seconds before her shoulders started to shake and tears began to run down her cheeks again.

"Hannah, what’s going on?" Now Ari was genuinely confused. They had not been alone since that night, not talked about the kiss so he wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much. He had assumed from her silence over the past month that she thought their little moment was all a mistake and that was it for them, but the fact that she was bothered by the thought of him seeing his estranged wife meant something else, didn't it? "I don’t want you to go."  her voice now a whisper. "I mean, I know you have to but.." she swallowed before continuing "I don’t want to be here without you." She had said it, right? She had admitted it. I don't want to be here without you. Ari was suddenly floored, utterly floored. This meant she felt something more.

"Firefly, look at me." he demanded. But she didn't move. "Look at me, please." he spoke more softly this time.

Hannah then raised her eyes, locking them to his, her bottom lip quivering slightly. "I’m coming back." Ari assured her.

"I know. It’s just…I’m gonna miss you." she said lowering her eyes again

"You’ve got Simon to keep you busy." he said, nodding down to the dog who was sat watching them both. "And Sammy to placate when he growls at him or eats his shoe. Jake to take you diving, Max to…well…just be Max and Rachel…" he paused to lift her chin to make her look at him  "You got your safe place for when it all gets too much, the sea, the stars at night…what else could you ask for?"

"Well, when you put it like that I’m not sure." she chuckled.

There it is, that damned smile. Ari thought as he chuckled too. "Guess I made my point."

There was a slight pause as he reached for her hands, his fingers caressing hers “I’ll miss you too Han, more than you know.” he said before pressing his forehead to hers.

"But you’re gonna.."

"I’m going to see my daughter, that’s all I care about in Tel Aviv." he paused before asking her again the million dollar question "Why are you so bothered, Han? Tell me honestly."

Hannah swallowed, her fingers fiddling with his as their hands are laced together "I just…what if you see Sarah and decide you want her back."

"But why do you care?" Ari asked, he was frustrated at this point and he knew his voice showed it. They were going round in circles and he just wanted her to say it.

She pulled back to look at him, her eyes locked onto his, their faces inches away.

"Because I wouldn’t be able to…" she swallowed once more, stumbling over her words "It would break me again Ari. I’d be happy for you but…”

She had said it. She had admitted it out loud. She had feelings for him. Wasn't that what you wanted? Your move Levinson. Ari thought before taking a breath thinking his next words carefully.

"Listen to me carefully, Hannah." he said, sternly.

Hannah was deflated by the look on his face and those words. He had called her Hannah, no Han, no Firefly. She thought that was it, she had pissed him off. She had fucked it up and this time she was the only one to blame.

"There’s no chance I want her back, even if she wanted me, which she doesn’t. We’re over."

"But for Maya." Hannah blurted out.

"Not the slightest chance, Firefly." he said, taking her face in his hands.

Hannah then let out the breath she had been holding and sniffed.

"God, I’ve been going out of my head for almost a month, Han. Going over that afternoon in Port Sudan  and that kiss…" Ari confided, tracing her lips with his thumb at the mention of the kiss.

And she gasped. It was electric. An electric blue bolt of lightning sending shivers down her spine.

"Me too…" she whispered, trying to recover from the electricity that had just travelled through her body “Why are we so shit at communicating?"

"I did try and find you at your spot a few times but someone always got in the way" Ari admitted.

"Story of our lives huh?" she said with a soft smile.

"Yup." Ari chuckled "Maybe it's time we changed that…" he said as he cupped her face in his hands. "Wait for me to get back…"

"Not like I can go anywhere, mi lobo." she said smiling at him.

And Ari knew why. MI...not EL, MI. My. It had been 9 years since she uttered those words to him. His heart was literally bursting and at that point he thought fuck Sammy, fuck Andy, fuck Max. He didn't care anymore.  With his hands still on her cheeks he tilted her face to meet his and kissed her. And it was everything he needed and more. It was only them now, as far as he was concerned the world could go to hell. It was soft, gentle, but oh so loaded at the same time and when he pulled away eventually, he kept his head pressing to hers.

"You said Mi…" he whispered.

Hannah bit her lower lip, a wide smile forming on her face and was about to reply when there was a loud noise outside and Simon started barking.

"I best go, it's an early flight." Ari said, fighting the urge to press her body against his and never let go. But he was leaving the following day and it wouldn't be fair for any of them.

"Ok…" Hannah nodded.

Ari turned slowly to go, his hand still on hers for as long as his reach would allow but had to let go when he reached the door.

"Come back to me this time." Hannah said before he opened the door.

Ari paused and turned to look at her "Promise…my firefly." When he left her hut, a smile that could lit up an entire city on his face, the feeling in his chest was warm. That crappy pang he had associated with being around her over the past few months gone, hopefully for good.

********

Ari left before breakfast the next morning, his flight was early. Nevertheless all the agents were up to bid him a good trip. He shook hands with the boys, hugged Rachel and finally reached Hannah. Giving her a smile he swept her into his arms and she closed her eyes momentarily, holding him close before she stepped back and smiled, both of them trying to play it cool. Tearing his eyes away from her he crouched down to give Simon a scratch, the dog leaping up at him to lick his face.

“Gonna miss you too.” he said quietly, and Hannah knew full well he wasn’t just talking to the dog.

The day was fairly busy, which kept Hannah occupied for the most of it, right through until the evening at which point she bid them good night and headed off to take Simon for his usual pre-bed walk.

“Mind if I join you?” Rachel asked “I haven’t stretched my legs properly all day.”

“Sure.” Hannah looked at her, and the two women headed out onto the sand.

“So, You and Ari…” Rachel said as soon as they were out of ear shot. Hannah spun to face her, frowning.

“Me and Ari what?” “Don’t play dumb with me, Cracker.” Rachel looked at her “I saw the way he was hugging you before, and the way he looked at you as Sammy drove them away.”

Hannah sighed, and knew there was no point playing dumb. “You know, it’s pathetic really. I mean I hadn’t seen anything or heard anything from him since Andy’s funeral and then within 6 weeks of us being here I’m catapulted right back to where I was 9 years ago.” “Must have been some fling…” Rachel looked at her, and Hannah snorted.

“You know full well it was more than that.”

“You loved him.” Rachel shrugged

“Ironic thing is I never told him.” Hannah sighed “Not whilst we were together anyway. I came close once.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, it felt too soon, you know, we’d only really been dating a few weeks.” Hannah shrugged “But if I’m honest, I fell for him way before we got together.” She stopped walking and looked around, before she gestured with her head and Rachel followed her lead, sitting on the sand besides her. “I remember the nigh though. Instead of using the actual 3 words I told him that I’d fallen for him years ago. We’d been on a date, just a small restaurant not far from his and we were walking home…”

“You know, everyone at work keeps asking me who my mystery girlfriend is.” Ari’s glanced down at Hannah as they walked down the pavement, his hand around hers.

“I thought you liked the secrecy?”

“Yeah, well, as much as it’s been fun I’d like to be able to introduce you as my girl one day.” he looked at her.

“I’d like that too.” Hannah smiled.

“Though you friend, Abi is it? Yeah she might not like it that much…” Ari said and Hannah let out a snort.

“Yeah, she would go mad. She keeps on asking me about you.”

“Really? What’s she say?”

Hannah laughed, “Fuck off Lobo,” she said, shoving him playfully in his chest.

“Easy firefly…” he caught her hand softly, raising it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her wrist “She never stood a chance”

“Neither did I” Hannah look at him as his fingers laced through hers.

“What do you mean?” Ari frowned.

“The minute I met you I was a gonner Ari”

“But you’ve been dating other guys, I’ve met some of them Han.” he looked at her.

“Yeah, but they weren’t you. I knew you were out of my league but still…always hoped one day you’d see me.”

Ari took a deep breath and shook his head “I saw you. How could I not? You were this smart, sassy kid…old before her time. I constantly had to remind myself how young you were and then I watched you grow up…” he smiled “And then, a few months after your 18th, at your graduation I came over and for the first time, well I saw you then as this gorgeous young woman, not just that sassy little kid and…” he shrugged, trailing off.

Hannah shook her head, her eyes fixing on Simon who was barking at his reflection on the calm ocean.

“It was funny that he brought up my graduation, as that was when I fell for him big time. I’d always had a crush on him, you know…” “Every little sister does on their older brother’s friends.” Rachel said wisely, and Hannah nodded.

“But then he gave me a pair of earrings. Just silver ones, in the shape of a crescent moon as a congratulations. But, they were so special because it was a little joke between us, you know, the fact I used to say he probably turned into a werewolf every full moon because he used to eat mama out of house and home…” “El Lobo Hambriento…” Rachel repeated and Hannah nodded.

“But that…that was the moment. He’d gone to enough effort to get me something that was personal and meant something to us both and I knew then I was falling for a guy I had no chance with. I tried so hard to ignore it. I dated other guys but it was pointless. And then on my 21st.” she shrugged “We had a whirlwind of a 3 months before he ended it and left. I heard nothing more until Sammy told me he had a girlfriend. So that was that, and it turns out it was all down to my late husband.”

“That must have been really hard.” Rachel said after a pause

“Well, I knuckled down, finished medical school and pretended I was ok.” Hannah shrugged “Even went to his wedding because I figured having him in my life one way was better than not at all. I didn’t see much of him then until I joined Mossad 2 years later.”

“Did he go to your wedding?” Rachel asked.

“No.” Hannah shook her head “I dunno why. Maybe he was on a mission, maybe he was too busy living his life with his then wife and kid…I never asked.” she took a deep breath and smiled as Simon bounded back across the sand towards her, flopping down onto his back for a belly rub which she happily provided “And then Andy died and just when I was beginning to come to terms with it all Ari shows up at the clinic and I find myself here in the desert and once more he’s turning my life upside down.”

“Maybe you need to set it the right way up again.” Rachel looked at her. “What’s stopping you, honestly?”

Hannah shrugged “Look, the other night, you’re right…we had a moment. Just a kiss, nothing more, and then last night we talked about it, kissed again and I dunno, maybe when he comes back…” She trailed off.

“Do you both want it?” Rachel looked at her. “To try again I mean?”

“I know I do and he says he does so…” she shrugged “I just…is going back over old ground the right thing to do Rachel? I mean we’re here…then there’s Sammy and his fucking reaction and…” she shook her head as she glanced out over the ocean. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it.” Rachel said, laying her hand on Hannah’s arm “Look, screw Sammy and screw everyone else. If they weren’t in the picture…” “Then I wouldn’t hesitate.” Hannah looked at her friend. “You know, I loved Andy, and in a way despite me being so angry at him, I always will do but what I felt when I was with Ari, well, it was like this raging fire, it consumed every single part of me whereas Andy felt safe...not that I was any less happy with Andy, I wasn’t but…”

“Was Ari your first?” Rachel looked at her, and Hannah nodded. “That’s why it felt like that.” Rachel continued wisely. “You were discovering things, it will have been exciting, passionate…” “I know, and I understand that we’re both different people now and I don’t know whether, even without everyone interfering we would have made it back then, probably not to be honest but I’m wondering if this was life’s little plan all along. A way of giving us a second chance when we both have a more mature understanding of what we had…does that make sense?”

Rachel smiled and placed an arm around Hannah’s shoulder “Perfectly.”

“You cannot tell Sammy.” Hannah looked at her “Not until Ari comes back and we’ve decided on what is gonna happen…if anything.”

“Cross my heart.” Rachel smiled.

Hannah, satisfied she could trust the woman turned her attention to the ocean. She knew Ari would be home now, and she couldn’t help wondering if she was on his mind, as much as he was on hers…

******** Ari was exhausted. Upon landing back in Tel Aviv he had been greeted by Ethan, and he’d been back into HQ for an hour or so before heading to his apartment. Thankfully, Mossad had agreed to keep funding the rental fees whilst he was away which at least meant he didn’t have to stay in a hotel on his trips back home. He’d debated calling Sarah to tell her he was back, but it was getting late and not wanting to wake Maya he had instead decided to call in the morning.

He showered, revelling in the comfort of having decent water pressure before he collapsed into bed. But try as he might, as tired as he was he just couldn’t turn off. His mind was wandering, in particular over everything that had happened with Hannah just before he had left. She’d basically admitted to him what he knew anyway, that her feelings for him were still there, and moreover that there was a chance that they could make something out of the whole sorry mess. He should be happy, and he was, but part of him was still tentative. There was a lot at stake, if it went wrong they were stuck, thousands of miles away from home…and he didn’t even want to think about Sammy’s reaction, or Andy for that matter. What he did know, however, was that whatever they both decided it was going to be their decision. He wasn’t letting anyone make it for them, not like last time.

The rain was lashing against the windows, and he was suddenly taken back to a rainy evening one March almost 9 years ago when he and Hannah had been out for something to eat. They were walking back to his and she was telling him how she’d fallen for him big time over a pair of earrings he had bought her. He had just been about to tease her about being materialistic when the heavens had opened…

“SHIT!” Hannah shrieked, ducking as if that would prevent the rain from hitting her. She pulled her jacket a little tighter around her but the rain fall was ridiculously heavy.

“Come on!” He said, tugging on her hand and the two of them began to run towards the doorway of a shop. Ari pulled her under the awning, glancing down at her. Her hair was dripping, sticking to her face and she looked at him and started to giggle. Her jacket wasn’t done up all the way, and he could just see the rivulets of water trickling between the swell of her breasts, through her cleavage and dampening the fabric of her little flowery dress.

“My face is up here…” she quipped and immediately his eyes flew to hers and he gave her a sheepish grin, before he arched an eyebrow.

“Seems I inadvertently got you a little wet.”

She snorted, shaking her head at the joke and then looked up at him, her eyes flashing as she bit her lip.

“Better take me home and do something about it then…”

Ari groaned at the memory of her, stood there in front of him. They’d only been dating a few weeks at that point and he’d taken it slow, deliberately not wanting to rush her but as she stood there in front of him, giving him the blatant come on, her eyes fixed on his, not a shred of doubt in them…he’d pretty much dragged her back to his. He shifted slightly on the soft mattress, his hand sliding into his boxers. Just that image of her in front of him had him hard as fuck, and he needed to do something about it. With slow, deliberate strokes he began to palm himself to the memory which was now fresh in his mind…

As Ari was fetching them both a towel each from the bathroom, he heard Hannah on the phone speaking in Spanish to her mama. When he walked into the living room she was just finishing up and he handed her the towel which she used to start drying out her hair as she kicked off her shoes.

“Mama ok?” he asked.

“Yeah she’s fine. Didn’t ask where I was…” she said, pausing where she was squeezing her long locks “Which suits me as I didn’t have to lie.” Ari sighed “I meant what I said before. I don’t want it to be like this forever.” “Me neither.” she agreed. “But…I just don’t want anyone interfering. Not yet anyway.”

He smiled and used the towel he had grabbed himsel to rub at his hair and face, emerging from it and she giggled, reaching up to smooth down his hair.

“This is getting long.” she said, her nails raking on his scalp as she straightened it down.

“I might grow it.” he mused.

“As long as it’s not into a mullet.” At that he laughed, his hands falling to her hips. “Not a chance Firefly.” She looked at him as she continued to attempt to dry her hair before he couldn’t take it anymore. Gently he took the towel off her and tossed it, along with his own, over to the sofa, before his hands cupped her face and he kissed her slowly. Her hands fell to his waist, tangling in the bottom of his grey shirt and he let out a little sigh at the feel of her fingers brushing his skin. She pulled back slightly and he pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing deeply and she looked at him, giving him the same eyes she had in the shop doorway.

“Lobo…” she swallowed.

“What do you want Firefly?”

“You…” she said, looking at him. “All of you.” At that his cocky demeanour wavered slightly. She’d told him only a few days ago when they’d been getting a little heavy on his couch that she was a virgin. She’d done other things, but not that, and now the thought of him being her first…well it was a head fuck. But a good head fuck.

“You sure?” he asked, searching her face for any shred of doubt. But he found none. Instead she nodded and bit her lip. Permission granted he’d reached down, gripped the soft flesh at the top of the back of her thighs and hauled her up, her legs locking around his waist. His lips smashed onto hers, their teeth clanging together in the urgency of the kiss as he carried her over the hall to his bedroom, where he softly set her down on her feet, flicking the lamp on besides him.

She’d stood, looking up at him, all doe eyes and damp hair and he’d had to fight back every single urge he had to push her back on the bed and fuck the life out of her. He wanted her first time to be soft, gentle, special. So instead, with a restraint he wasn’t sure he even possessed up until that moment, he reached out and pulled her to him again, kissing her softly and her fingers drifted to the buttons on his shirt. She broke the kiss so she could look down, her hands fumbling slightly but Ari let her carry on. Eventually she had it open and she pushed it back off his shoulders and down his arms where he then shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor. She looked at him, biting that damned bottom lip again and Ari couldn’t help but feel slightly smug at the hungry way her eyes were roving his torso. He ran, worked out with weights and he knew he wasn’t in bad shape. He couldn’t afford to be with his job after all but he was enjoying the appreciative way she was taking in his broad shoulders and chest, following the strip of hair down to his waistband. She looked up at him once more, reaching out with her hands and she smoothed her fingers over his chest to his shoulders as he leaned down and caught her mouth again. This time his hands moved to the back of her dress, finding the buttons and he flicked them open one by one. Hannah stilled at little and he stopped, glancing down.

“You ok?”

“Yeah…” she nodded.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just…no one’s ever seen me…”

“Let me…” he said softly, almost pleading.

Her cheeks flushed red and she moved her arms to allow the dress to fall down, shimmying out of it as it dropped over her hips and Ari let out a soft groan as he took her in from toe to head. Lithe legs gave way to a softer curve over her thighs and hips, up to her trim stomach, her waist cinched in before it met the swell of her perfectly proportioned breasts which he’d always had a real thing for. She was dressed in a simple matching cotton pair of baby blue panties and bra, and the pure innocence of it was driving him wild.

“See…” he said, his eyes locking onto hers “Beautiful, my firefly…”

He leaned down and dropped a kiss to the crook of her neck and shoulder and she gave a little shiver.

“Like that?” he asked softly, she nodded so he did it again, his arm curling around her waist, holding her still, letting her get lost in the sensations as he lavished affection on her, working across her collar bone to the other side, before he trailed hot kisses up her jaw line, before pressing his lips to hers again. She kissed him back, the kiss hungry as her hands tangled in his hair. Taking the lead, he backed her up slightly, until her knees folded against the edge of the bed and she sat down. Her eyes were level with the top of his jeans now, and there was no hiding the evident bulge at his crotch. She glanced up at him, giving him a little smirk, almost of pride, before she popped the button on his jeans. She tugged them down, and he stepped out of them, leaving him in his tight boxers and he crawled over her as she moved up the bed, settling into the space between her legs. His hands trailed up the outside of her thighs to her hips and up her ribcage before he gently palmed her breast over her bra. He felt her relax under him, which is what he wanted, and he gently pressed a kiss to her shoulder as he pulled down her bra strap, repeating the motion at the other side. He slid his hands underneath her and she arched her back allowing him to pop the clasp. Taking another look at her, she nodded and he pulled the garment away, and he glanced down, taking in her bare breasts with a soft moan.

“Fuck, Han…” he said softly, his mouth dropping to her cleavage, soft kisses trailing up her sternum as his thumbs softly skated over her nipples. She wriggled a little, letting out a tiny whimper at his actions which encouraged him and he moved his mouth over to take over from his left hand, gently flicking his tongue.

“Shit, Ari…” she gasped, her hips bucking upwards slightly and he ground down against her, this time her noise was louder as she mewled at the contact, her hands fisting around the duvet at either side of her. He moved his attention to the other breast, repeating his action, drawing more noises and reactions from her, before his lips moved downwards, trailing over her belly where he gently rubbed his nose above the waistband of her panties. Glancing up at her again, she was watching him, her eyes wide with excitement and he hooked his fingers into the cotton, sliding them down her legs. He knelt up, taking a second to look at her before he parted her knees with his hands. He felt her shift slightly and looked up, that bashful tinge was back on her cheeks.

“Hey…” he said, looking at her as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee.“You trust me?”

“With my life, Mi lobo…”

That fucking name did things to him, and once more he found himself fighting to keep control. But knowing he had to take it slow he did just that, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her thigh before he reached his goal and gently slid his tongue up her entrance, causing her hips to buck again.

“Easy firefly…” he mumbled gently, his arm looping over her waist to keep her still as he gently lapped at her, teasing her sensitive bundle of nerves before his tongue poked deeper into her, fucking her with his mouth. She writhed as much as she could, her breathing deep, almost at a pant and he glanced up to see her head was thrown back against his pillow, mouth forming a perfect O shape, and her hands were flat against the bed. With his spare one he reached up, taking her right hand and he placed it on his head, where she gently gripped at his hair. As he continued to eat her out, god she tasted amazing, her fingers tightened, and at one point she pulled on his hair to the point of it being painful. He let out a groan and she stopped and he glanced up.

“Sorry….” she began to apologise but he shook his head.

“Don’t…I like it.” She arched an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t give her much time to think about it as his mouth set to her once more. As he continued alternating his attention between her entrance and her clit, her breathing became nothing but a sharp, staccato pans and he felt her legs beginning to tremble.

“Oh, God…Ari…” she keened above him and he gave a little grin as he upped his speed slightly., “I’m…gonna…” and with that she gave a loud cry, her hips jumping upwards as her body trembled. Her legs became rigid for a second before she relaxed, completely boneless in the after throws of her orgasm. Knowing she’d be sensitive, he moved away slightly, wiping his mouth on his arm as he crawled up her body.

“Good?” he asked, already knowing the answer as she was utterly wrecked beneath him, but he wanted to hear it from her.

“Yeah…really good…” she panted, her eyes flickering open to lock onto his before he kissed her again. She was clearly feeling a little braver now as her fingers grasped at the waistband of his boxers and she pushed them down. He shuffled out of them before he practically fell over her, propping himself up on his elbows, and she looked at him for a second, her hand pushing into his hair.

“You got any….” “Top drawer.” he nodded, to the nightstand. She shuffled slightly and he sat back on his heels, his erection hard and slapping against his abs as she found the condom and handed it to him. He easily tore it from the packet, and once he’d carefully rolled it down over himself he moved forwards again, so he was settled and lined up. Taking another look at her face, once more making seeking assurance she was absolutely sure, she nodded and slowly he began to push into her. She tensed up a little, her hands gripping at his forearm and he took his time, gently moving his hips until he was fully sheathed inside her.

“You ok?” he panted, she felt tight and warm around him and fuck, it was euphoric.

“Yeah…” she assured him. “Just go slow.” “I got you sweetheart.” he gently pressed a kiss to her mouth, moving his hips back before he slowly pushed into her again, and again, taking his time, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he caged her between his arms. He gently pressed a kiss to her hair line as he ground into her again, causing her breath to catch in her throat, but it wasn’t in pain. No, he could tell she was enjoying this. Taking that as encouragement he repeated the action and her hands tightened around his biceps.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice ragged and she nodded eagerly.

“Feels good.” she panted, as he pushed up against her, his hips bumping hers as he continued his movements, picking up the pace ever so slightly, but all the time being careful to still take his time. Her hands hooked round his shoulders and he pressed a bit more of his weight onto her as he found a slow, steady rhythm. It wasn’t long before he began to feel the warming deep in the pit of his stomach and balls, and he really wanted to get her there again, but was now beginning to question how much longer he was going to last. His lips met hers, the kiss desperate, and she cried out into his mouth as he pushed deeper. He could feel her fluttering around him and he knew she was close.

“Come on Firefly…come on…come on…” he said, his breathing deep in between each word as he nudged at her chin with his nose, gently nipping along her jaw line before he softly sucked at the point under her ear and with another push upwards he felt her tense and she gave a desperate mewl once more, her nails digging into his shoulders, before she stilled completely, her mouth slackening, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her release crashing over her in wave after wave. A few thrusts later Ari found his own, the coil in his belly finally slapping and with a loud cry he came, hard, his hips stuttering before they slowed completely and he gently fell forward, his face burying into her neck. He stayed still for a moment, waiting for the world to tip the right way up again, and he moved his head to kiss her, both his hands holding her face before he pressed his forehead to hers. She smiled at him, her lips once more meeting his as her breathing started to even out.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly and she shook her head.

“No, no you didn’t.” she smiled “That was…that was perfect Ari…”

With a loud groan Ari finally brought himself off and felt the hot, white ribbons streak over his abs as he gently worked himself through his release. With a sigh his head fell back against the pillow and he gave himself a moment before he reached over for a tissue from the box by his bed.

“That was perfect Ari…”

Hannah’s voice echoed round his head and he swallowed as he cleaned himself up. Yes, it had been perfect, he’d loved the fact he’d been her first. Something no one else could ever claim. With a sigh he tossed the tissue to the side, his breathing deep as he settled himself down for the night, the earlier tension and unrest he had been feeling slightly abated. Jerking off to his own internal filthy thoughts was nowhere near as good as the real thing but for the time being, a memory would have to do.

[coinsoup]

Do You Believe The Magic 8 Ball? I do

the keefitz fic... finally 

tw: minor injury and blood 

 Keefe glanced over at Fitz who was lying on his bed still attempting to complete the star map Keefe had finished ages ago. Keefe sighed heavily, pulling himself up from his spot at the foot of Fitz’s bed. He wandered over to a bookshelf in the corner of Fitz’s room. Gnomish culture and tradition was the first title Keefe saw. “Nerd,” Keef muttered, a fond smile creeping onto his lips.

 There weren’t just informational books on the shelf though, Fitz seemed to keep most of his little knick-knacks on the shelf too. Keefe smiled softly when he noticed one of his drawings was framed. It was one of his first ones too, so it wasn’t exactly a masterpiece. 

 Keefe picked up a strange black sphere. He brought it closer to his eyes, shaking it slightly when red words appeared in a small circle. The letters were written in a language he couldn’t understand which was weird.

 “Hey, Roy,” Fitz startled slightly, smearing the ink.

 “Keefe, this better be important,” Fitz said, glaring at his ink-stained hand.

 “What’s this?” Keefe managed to get out without bursting into a fit of laughter.

 Fitz looked up then, letting out an indignant huff at Keefe’s slightly mocking smile. Fitz’s gaze finally landed on the weird ball in his hand. Fitz looked as if he was racking his brain for a way to explain it, which quite frankly Keefe didn’t like. 

 “It’s called a magic 8 ball,” Fitz decided on, “It’s basically a fortune teller” Keefe gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s supposed to predict the future, or tell you the truth about something.”

 “Yeah, sure,” Keefe scoffed, “Where’d you get this from anyways?”

 “Father brought it back from the forbidden cities for me” Keefe winced at the word father and made a mental note to rant about his dad later so Fitz could vent.

 Keefe considered the object for a moment wondering if a human object could really do that, it wasn’t like the elves could so it’s not like the humans could either, right? Then Keefe had an idea, now let’s be clear most of Keefe’s ideas ended in disaster.

 “Is Fitzy in love with me?” Keefe asked aloud, shaking the 8ball. Most definitely it read, Keefe gave Fitz a smirk who was watching him curiously. Keefe tossed the ball to Fitz who caught it easily.

 “I mean you knew it wouldn’t work right?” Fitz asked. Huh, Keefe thought, he wasn’t even flustered. He had just denied it with no shadow of doubt in his voice. 

 Keefe was pretty damn sure that his feelings were mutual, but this, well, was unexpected, to say the least. There’s no way he could be that oblivious right?? And thus Keefe’s plan began.

 Keefe needed help for the last stage, so logically he asked his best friend’s older brother. So here Keefe was standing at the edge of the Ravagog braiding long grass blades as he waited for Alvar. Just when he was finishing his second braid he heard footsteps behind him. 

 “Hey kiddo, it’s been a while.” 

 “Alvar?” He was standing a few feet away looking as cheerful as ever, albeit a little tired. Keefe sat up quickly, then stood a little awkwardly unsure if a hug would be too much. Alvar just laughed softly hooking his arm over Keefe’s shoulder as they walked down the path.

 “It’s not that I don’t love seeing you, but what was so important it couldn’t wait till the end of the month?”

 “Well, about that” Keefe began, “I need your help with something.”

 “Okaaaay” Alvar drawled, “and could that something involve a little mischief,” playfully squeezing Keefe’s shoulder where his hand rested on it.

 “I mean I guess you could call it that, I need help with your dumbass little brother,” Alvar was just looking at Keefe, so he took that as a sign to continue, “I need you to lock us in a closet.”

 Alvar continued to stare for a second before he keeled over in a fit of laughter. Keefe felt heat rush to his cheeks as Alvar finally calmed down enough to look him in the eyes, doubling over once again

 “So you finally got your shit together huh? Or wait let me guess he’s still hopelessly oblivious and it’s not funny anymore.” 

 “Take a wild guess.”

 “I mean I guess it runs in the family,” Alvar said and his smile looked almost sad. 

 “Anyways,” Alvar said, clearing his throat, “basically you want me to be your wingman.” 

 “... well, when you put it that way-”

 “What do I get in return?”

 “Nothing,” Keefe said, putting on his best angelic smile, “You’re gonna do it ‘cause you love me.” Alvar smiled ruffling Keefe’s hair, “That I do, that I do.” 

 The two walked back to the front of Ravagog in companionable silence that was occasionally interrupted by a joke or two. Once they made it back at the entrance they stood there for a second before Alvar reached out to pat Keefe’s shoulder. 

 “I’ll see y-”

 “I missed you” Keefe interrupted. Alvar blinked at Keefe, smile falling from his face, in that moment he looked so full of regret and sadness that Keefe couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Alvar pulled Keefe into a strong hug squeezing him tightly right before he let go.

 “I missed you too kiddo.”

 Phase one out of three began a few days later. Keefe and Fitz were sitting outside by the lake to do their homework. They were sitting pretty close already but Keefe sighed and shifted his textbook leaning a little closer to Fitz. 

 Keefe watched from the corner of his eye as he purposely pressed his thigh into Fitz’s. Fitz’s eyes widened and his hand jerked subtly enough that Keefe wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention. Good thing he was.

 Fitz tried to subtly shift away but Keefe was having none of it. Fitz gave up on subtly and crossed his legs so it would be painfully obvious Keefe was pressing their legs together on purpose if he tried again. Keefe waited a few minutes then flipped over on to stomach so that their arms brushed every time Keefe went to write something down. 

 Fitz let out a frustrated sigh next to him and Keefe looked over to where he was attempting to plan an essay for Elvin history. He could work with this.

 “Need some help with that ‘Roy?” 

 “Please,” Fitz said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. Keefe hummed as he sat up leaning over Fitz’s shoulder to read over his work. 

 “Pen?” Fitz held out the pen. Keefe pretended to still be reading over Fitz’s work as he skimmed his fingertips along Fitz’s knuckles, who shivered at the light touch. Keefe then pressed his chest into Fitz’s back reveling in his sharp intake of breath. 

 Keefe continued to stay pressed firmly against Fitz who seemed intent on keeping his breathing regulated while Keefe corrected his work. Keefe finished slowly putting the pen down. You know what, fuck it Keefe thought.

 “You’d think with all the books you’d read you would better, I guess it’s for the aesthetic, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t suit you though,” Keefe said, lips hovering close to Fitz’s ear who was completely frozen in place.

 Keefe laid back down on the ground facing upwards this time so he could look over at Fitz every so often, who was still distinctly flustered the rest of the afternoon.

 Stage two had to wait until the night before Alvar would come visit. It was a Friday so the boys had decided to play basequest, they pestered Biana and Della into joining them so they could actually have a full team. By the time Keefe and Fitz finally gave up, it was dark. Going to plan so far.

 The two boys trudged into Fitz’s room drenched in sweat. Fitz started rifling around in his dresser. It had been a few minutes when he let out a muffled curse.

 “I think I lost my crest, I’m gonna go look around outside,” Improvising is never a bad idea, right? Keefe hummed in acknowledgment waiting for Fitz’s footsteps to fade down the hallway before he began. 

 Keefe peeled off his sweaty shirt and dug around Fitz’s shirt drawer. Keefe hesitated before putting it on, eventually throwing it back and walking into Fitz’s bathroom to shower.  When Keefe came out of the bathroom Fitz wasn’t back yet.

 Keefe then went back to the dresser pulling on a pair of Fitz’s more casual pants and throwing on a shirt that he knew was a little oversized on Fitz so it should fit him fine. When Keefe looked at his reflection in the mirror he felt his cheeks flush at the sight of him. If he was blushing, then Fitzy should have a fun time with this. 

 Just as he turned back around Fitz came through the door holding his Vacker crest triumphantly in his hand. His gaze lingered on Keefe’s shirt then realization seemed to set in. Fitz blinked and Keefe knew he’d be blushing hard if he could. 

 “I- Uh- my shirt,” Fitz managed after staring at Keefe slack-jawed for a couple seconds

 “Very observant,” Keefe teased, taking a step closer then wrinkling his nose, “please shower you reek.”

 Fitz was able to make it into the bathroom without much trouble. That was a lie, Fitz tripped over his feet seven times (Keefe counted), he didn’t tear his eyes away from Keefe’s frame longer than five seconds and stared at him for a solid thirty before shutting the bathroom door behind him. 

 Keefe chuckled going over to the desk to get a piece of paper so he could sketch. Keefe let his hand flow, graphite shading in hollows and lines. When Keefe looked at the rough sketch of what he had so far he wasn’t surprised it seemed to be Fitz of some sort, after all, that’s what most of his drawings ended up being. When Fitz stepped back into the room he seemed to be a little more, well, put together. 

 “Sorry, I didn’t ask but I can stay over tonight, right?” Keefe asked when he heard the bathroom door slide into place. 

 “Yeah sure, whatcha doing?” Fitz questioned as he randomly picked a book from the shelf.

 “Sketching,”

 They both laid there in silence for a while, Fitz engrossed in a book he had probably read several times and Keefe detailing his drawing. Keefe sighed in relief when he managed to get it to look somewhat like he wanted it. He leaned on the back two legs of his chair tilting it backward. 

 “Please don’t fall,” Fitz said, putting his book down on the nightstand. Keefe huffed, but complied standing up and walking over to Fitz’s bed. 

 “Move over,” Keefe said.

 “Huh?”

 “Scooch, I’m tired and clingy,”

 “Clingy?” Fitz repeated, squeaking. 

 Keefe somehow managed to maintain his bored expression as he turned off the lights and got under the covers. Fitz was still tense beside him minutes later so Keefe decided he needed to do something about it.

 “Fi?” Keefe whispered gently, “c’ mere.” Fitz seemed to stiffen even more and this was the first time Keefe truly felt like maybe he had been wrong after all. It’s not like it would have been surprising, Keefe wasn’t much of a catch, just a childhood best friend really.

 Keefe’s breathing began to become rapid but was held off by Fitz’s warm hand on his forearm. When Keefe got himself back under control he took it as a sign that yes, you can touch me it’s fine. 

 Keefe scooted over to where Fitz was lying down and threw an arm over his torso burying his nose in Fitz’s neck. Fitz eventually melted into the touch fully relaxing and falling asleep to Keefe’s steady heartbeat and soft breathing. 

 Keefe woke up to Fitz whispering, well, that’s what Keefe assumed it was supposed to be but it was a little too loud to actually be considered whispering. He opened his eyes to see the blurry frame of Alvar glancing back over his shoulder as the door closed behind him. Fitz sighed heavily pushing his fingers through Keefe's hair.

 Keefe tried not to give away the fact that he was awake but Fitz eventually felt Keefe shift. Fitz’s hand paused for a second then pulled away like he was burned.

 “Morning, Fitzy,” Keefe said into Fitz’s chest.

 “I- uh morning,” Fitz muttered, shifting in embarrassment.

 Keefe refuses to let go of Fitz for several minutes despite Fitz’s, albeit weak protests. The two boys got out of bed a little awkwardly and shuffled over to the bathroom.

 Keefe’s cheeks burned as they stood side by side brushing their teeth. Fitz was leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed humming tunelessly. Keefe willed his cheeks to cool down before Fitz opened his eyes.

 Fate wasn’t on Keefe’s side cause Fitz opened his eyes then cocked his head to the side wordlessly asking for an explanation.

“It’s too damn domestic,” 

 Fitz dropped his toothbrush back into the holder, and like the asshole he was, leaned back against the sink and let his head lull onto Keefe’s shoulder. Keefe finished quickly nudging Fitz so they could go down to the kitchen.

 They entered to, well, quite a scene. Della was standing at the stove burning breakfast as Biana made coffee off to the side warily side-eying her mother. Alvar was seated on a barstool, chin propped up in his hand staring into a mug.

 “Oh, hey boys,” Alvar looked up smirking at them. Keefe subtlety shook his head which Alvar frowned at but motioned for them to sit down. 

 “Fitzroy, be a dear and help me?” Della said a slight edge of panic to her voice. Fitz didn’t even have a chance to sit down before shuffling over to help. 

 “What happened?” Alvar said, leaning closer to Keefe.

 “Nothing, and that’s the problem, he really is clueless,” 

 “If the closet idea doesn’t work I have a backup plan.” Keefe didn’t exactly like the look in Alvar’s eyes, but you do what you have to do.

 Fitz managed to salvage enough food to hold them over until lunch. Alden came in and everyone started eating. The silence wasn’t tense per se but it sure as hell wasn’t comfortable. Alden excused himself after not too long, leaving a wake of awkward silence. 

 “We’re still making mallowmelt right?” Biana piped up.

 “Oh right, Alvar, Fitz, Keefe can you grab the ingredients?” Della asked. 

 The pantry wasn’t exactly the ideal size for a locked in a closet situation, it was a little too roomy but Keefe could make do. Fitz turned towards the shelf looking for the flour. Keefe turned towards Alvar who mouthed five minutes. Keefe nodded, handing the bag of sugar to Alvar who grabbed the flour from Fitz.

 “I’ll bring this out to mom, find the flavoring,” Alvar told the boys as he walked out of the pantry. Keefe heard the lock click behind him but Fitz was too busy reaching for the vanilla to notice.

 “Fuck it,” Fitz muttered which was never a good sign. Keefe glanced Fitz’s way to see him shuffling over some containers so he could step on one of the lower shelves. dumbass

  Fitz tested his weight, he must have thought it was sufficient because he pushed himself up on it reaching for the vanilla. Shit, Keefe thought a moment too late as the shelf started creaking. 

 “Fitz,” Keefe said lowly.

 “Almost there…” 

 Fitz had no self-preservation apparently because he pushed his other foot off the floor putting all of his weight on a shelf as old as the house. The shelf, as expected, collapsed with a dull snap. Fitz released his hold on the bottle of vanilla as the ground rushed towards him. 

 To Keefe it all seemed to happen in slow motion as he stood there, useless. The bottle of vanilla shattered sending glass shards in all directions. Fitz meanwhile was attempting to soften his fall by catching himself with his hands.

 “FuuUck,” Fitz screamed as glass impaled his right palm. That seemed to spur Keefe into action because he rushed to Fitz's side, hesitating before resting his hand comfortingly on Fitz’s bicep.

“Why is it locked?” Della’s voice could be heard through the pantry door as she tried the handle. When Della swung the door open she and Biana were gazing worriedly down at the pair.

 “I told you guys,” Alvar said as he casually made his way to the door, “they’re fin-”

 “I am fine,” Fitz said through gritted teeth, hiding his palm so his mom wouldn’t see it. Della muttered something about cleaning the mess up. Keefe’s eyes shifted to Fitz’s hand and he saw blood surfacing around the glass.

 “I’m gonna go check to make sure Fitz doesn’t have any cuts,” Keefe announced, dragging Fitz through the door by his uninjured hand.

 “Ah, good idea,” Biana said, grabbing an old rag from the cabinet. 

 Keefe pulled Fitz into the small bathroom at the end of the hallway shutting the door gently behind them. Fitz eased himself up onto the countertop wincing even though he only used the fingertips of his right hand.

 Keefe wiggled his fingers, a nervous habit he has had since he was little and bent down to open the cabinet. He held Fitz calf as he propped open the cabinet door searching for antiseptic and a towel.

 Keefe stood back up cradling Fitz's injured hand who winced at any movement. Keefe drummed his fingers nervously against the cabinet as he inspected the wound. Honestly, it was a nasty cut but not too deep, though the glass was still wedged in Fitz’s skin so that was gonna be a pain to remove.

 “Fitzy,” Keefe said gently, reaching out for his hand once more, “we need to remove the glass okay?” 

 Fitz nodded in response, biting down on his lip when Keefe opened a drawer to get some tweezers. Keefe positioned the tweezers above the glass, attempting to gather up the nerve to pull it out. 

 It was a lot harder to care for someone else’s injuries than his own. It’s not like his parents hurt him, but they didn’t care for him either so he had to learn how to clean a scrape when he fell from a tree around 8 years ago, Keefe was well practiced at this point.

 Fitz’s hand involuntarily flinched as Keefe gently started to pull the glass out. The tweezers dug deeper into Fitz’s wound drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. Keefe gritted his teeth and finished the job, pulling the glass out and placing it down onto a paper towel. 

 “Sorry, are you okay?” Keefe asked, placing his hand gently on Fitz’s knee. 

 “You’re overreacting it was just some glass Keefe,” 

 Keefe ignored that last comment grabbing a cloth and silently working at cleaning Fitz's hand. Keefe knew from personal experience alcohol stung but Fitz sat there stoically as Keefe used the alcohol wetted tip of a cloth to clean his wound. 

 “Keefe,” Keefe looked up from where he was tracing the lines of Fitz’s palm lightly. They were nose to nose and wow Fitz’s eyes were so much prettier up close. Keefe searched Fitz’s eyes for something, anything to indicate what he was feeling.

 Fitz’s uninjured palm came up to cradle Keefe’s jaw before his thoughts could spiral too far. Fitz’s thumb ran against Keefe’s cheek and any coherent thought he had flew out the window. 

 “Can I kiss you?” Keefe managed. Fitz’s eyes widened in surprise but a shaky nod was enough confirmation. Keefe leaned in slowly, still unsure if this was happening. Their lips touched and Fitz was warm, so warm. The kiss was sweet and innocent but enough for them. 

 “Oh,” Fitz said a little breathlessly after Keefe pulled away. Keefe blinked at Fitz in shock then burst into a fit of laughter leaning his forehead against Fitz’s shoulder. Fitz’s arm wrapped around Keefe’s back comfortably remaining there even after his laughter dissolved. 

 Keefe finished wrapping up Fitz’s hand and tugged him down from his spot on the countertop. The two boys walked back into the kitchen which was, well chaos at best. Alvar was stirring a pot, nose crinkled, and brow furrowed as he attempted to change the temperature on the stove. 

 When Alvar met Keefe’s gaze he raised his eyebrows to which Keefe responded with a thumbs up.

@never-ever-too-many-fandoms @loverofallthingssmart @comas-are-for-sleeping @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @clearlykeefitz @theofficialkai517

[thwip--thwip]

MTBI

“Pete,” Tony whispers, and his breath has a hint of cayenne in it, what did he eat for breakfast? Peter’s never felt this overstimulated, what the hell happened? “Stay awake. You need to focus.”

“I can’t,” Peter’s embarrassed that it comes out a whimper, but frankly he’s surprised it came out at all. “I can’t, Tony please - “

*

Written for @iron--spider.

Read on AO3 | Or below the cut!

Peter wakes up to screaming.

When he puts it like that, it sounds alarming. It’s not. Well, mostly. Sometimes the screaming is Mrs. Reyes’ soap operas, three doors down the hall. Sometimes it’s the elementary school children down the block, chasing each other in circles on the sidewalk while they wait impatiently for the bus. Sometimes it’s a car horn, or a bird, hitting a frequency that makes Peter wake up in a sheen of sweat, breathless, fists curled. It’s not that bad.

Well, okay, this is bad. He’s the one screaming.

Peter jerks awake to white hot pain. Alright, maybe that’s an exaggeration. It’s red hot. Blue hot at best.

(“I’ve had worse,” Peter says later, defensive. Tony’s expression does something complicated and awful in response. “That’s not exactly a comfort.”)

His brain feels like it’s on fire, like somebody opened a hatch and poured bleach straight into his skull. And the smell! It burns his nose, makes him gag, something chemical that smells like piss -

“Kid!”

Peter clamps his hands over his ears, but Tony’s voice echoes painfully anyway. It rings and rings and rings, a neverending corridor in his brain - except it does end, at his eardrums, and it fucking hurts.

“Shh! Shh!” Peter says frantically, curling into a ball. Now that his hearing is rushing in, filling the void his unconsciousness left, he can hear everything in agonizing detail. Someone - presumably Tony - is struggling against something fibrous, something that chafes and scratches and tugs at his skin - and the harsh breaths dragging up Peter’s esophagus sound like sandpaper rubbing against itself.

There’s something beeping -

Drip drip drip

A dog barking -

Watch it, asshole, that’s my lane!

A gas stove clicks, clicks, catches -

I think I’m gonna pass out.

“You’re not gonna pass out.” Tony’s voice is a whisper, but it still makes Peter cringe on cold, hard, dirty - ew I can taste it - cement. “Peter, focus on me. Focus, kid, you can do it.”

He can’t, though. He can’t focus. It’s so much, all at once, and Peter keeps his hands clapped over his ears so hard it hurts. His mouth tastes like rainwater, like the muffins from the bakery he knows is around the corner because he can hear, feel, smell, taste -

“Pete,” Tony whispers, and his breath has a hint of cayenne in it, what did he eat for breakfast? Peter’s never felt this overstimulated, what the hell happened? “Stay awake. You need to focus.”

“I can’t,” Peter’s embarrassed that it comes out a whimper, but frankly he’s surprised it came out at all. “I can’t, Tony please - “

“You can.” Tony insists, his tone softening even more. Peter squeezes his eyes tight and tries to will the nausea away. “You’re Spiderman. You can do anything.”

The faith makes determination sit heavy in Peter’s stomach, and he takes a deep breath (ignoring the onions he can taste from the Philly Cheese truck, parked four blocks away), trying to find something to focus on. There’s too much, he can’t do it - but he’s Spiderman, he has to try.

Tony’s heartbeat is too fast, thumpthumpthump...thump, thumpthumpthump...thump, with an irregular arrhythmia Peter can only assume is leftover from the arc reactor. It’s something, though, loud and strong, and he takes every scrap of his focus, betting it on black.

Thumpthumpthump...thump

Thumpthumpthump...thump

Tony doesn’t say anything, as the minutes pass, but even with his eyes closed, Peter can feel the tension radiating from him. He listens to Tony’s heartbeat, which never falters, letting all the other sounds and sensations fade away. He’s not sure how long he lies there, be it minutes or hours, but eventually the overwhelming cacophony abates. His nausea subsides, and Peter’s left with just the dull ache in his skull. He’s not great, but he doesn’t feel like he’s about to faint anymore, so that’s something.

“I’m okay,” Peter whispers, slowly opening his eyes. Tony’s concerned face blurs into focus - the man is bleeding from his temple as well as his wrists, from where he’d pulled too hard on ropes binding him. “What...what happened?”

“Bastards got us outside of the falafel joint.” Somehow, Tony manages to infuse a helluva lot of anger into his whispering, and it makes Peter smile, despite everything. “They knocked you out, hard. You probably have a concussion, kid.”

Well that explains the pain in his head, and probably the sensitivity. If a concussion was bad for somebody normal, why wouldn’t it be extra horrible for someone like him?

“It’s a hard knock life,” Peter says, and Tony’s eyes narrow dangerously. Peter can’t help but grin, raising an eyebrow, even though he still hasn’t moved from the floor. “What, too soon?”

“Less than five minutes after you recover from having a seizure on the floor is the definition of too soon.” Tony hisses, and Peter knows he’s in for a classic round of mother-henning as soon as they get the hell out of there.

“Alright, alright, keep your pants on.” Peter picks himself up off the ground, swaying a little as he does so. He takes a minute to stabilize, and Tony watches him dubiously, like he’s expecting Peter to keel over at any second. Which, okay, fair. But still.

“Are you sure you’re good?” Tony’s head cranes to follow him as Peter walks around to undo the ropes; they’re knotted tightly, and flecked with Tony’s blood, where he’s rubbed his skin raw. Peter crouches and picks at them carefully, not wanting to cause him any more pain.

“Why wasn’t I tied up?” What, was he not good enough for rope? Did they run out? Are they just terrible kidnappers? Tony’s fingers flex impatiently, ever the fidgeter. Peter manages to undo the first knot and starts to work on the second.

“You were out cold, and you look like you’re twelve. I don’t think they thought of you as a threat. Are you sure you’re good, kid?”

“I’m threatening! I’m totally threatening. Grr.” Probably not the best way to prove it, if Tony’s pointed silence in response is anything to go by. Peter gets him out of the binds, dropping them to the floor, and circles back around to face his mentor. “I’m good, Tony. I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re not threatening.” Tony points out, hiding a wince as he pokes at his tender wrists. “You’re about as threatening as Elmo on sabbatical.”

“I won’t stand for this abuse.” Peter sways dangerously, and Tony catches him with a firm grip on his shoulder. He guides Peter into the chair he had just vacated, pushing him down firmly, and Peter can’t help but oblige. “...I guess I’ll sit for it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“We can’t just sit here.” Peter protests, even as he does just that, and sits there. Tony’s firm grip on his shoulder is too much to fight, at the moment. “We have to get out of here before they come back.”

“No, we don’t.” Tony finally releases Peter’s shoulder and taps two fingers to the face of his watch, pulling up a hologram. There’s two red dots, and one of them is moving closer. “Morons didn’t take my tech. The team’s already enroute.”

“Oh,” Peter slumps in the chair, relieved. That wasn’t too bad, then, was it? Tony eyes him critically, flicking another hologram up that Peter has to assume are his vitals. The fact that Tony’s watch has the capacity to scan his vitals should be more worrisome. “What’s the ETA?”

His question is answered when the door flies open, making Peter flinch, hard. Two of the wannabe kidnappers are thrown bodily into the room, cursing and groaning when they land on hard concrete. Peter can see Falcon’s outline, as he flies into the room, hear Cap and company chatting on the man’s comm line, and it’s all so damn loud. Peter tries to concentrate on Tony’s heartbeat, thumping along, but before he can think too much about it, the man’s hands are on his ears.

Peter looks up, confused but grateful, as Tony’s palms cover his ears completely. Tony smiles gently, reassuringly, before pulling Peter’s head forward into his chest, giving him somewhere dark and quiet. Peter closes his eyes, blocking out the fighting - he can’t block it all the way, but it’s better, and more than that, the gesture brings a small smile to his face.

The fighting lasts a few good minutes, and Tony says something muffled that sounds like, Get them out of here, the kid has a concussion. When Tony does release him, the room is empty again - but the doors are wide open, beckoning freedom.

“That was easy.” Peter notes, and Tony snorts, stepping back to let Peter up out of the chair. “That wasn’t so bad, really. Pretty short for a kidnapping. Nothing even happened.”

“They gave you the mother of all concussions, I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

“What’s a little MTBI among friends?”

“Please tell me you didn’t just call the criminals your friends.” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose before rolling his eyes skywards, as if he could ascend to Heaven and leave Peter’s mortal plane bullshit behind him by sheer force of will. “MTBI?”

“Mild Traumatic Brain Injury.”

Tony sighs loudly even as Peter grins a bright, shit-eating smile. He loops his arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him into his side, and waggles an accusatory finger at him. “I hate you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Peter snickers to himself, wrapping his free arm around Tony’s waist to return the one-armed hug. “I know.”

[just-give-me-half-a-cup]

Bouquet

Inspired by the song Bouquet by Ethan Jewell, would reccomend listening to it.

Haven't really proofread it, so if there are mistakes, let me know and I'll fix it. We die like men baby.

I also only write after 11:30pm, so god help my brain.

Heavy eating disorder tw, as that is the main plot, please take care with reading it if that effects you.

All based on my own experience with eating disorders.

Enjoy

If Race had a bouquet of flowers, he would have given them all away by now.

In which Race is being a little too self sacrificing, and Jack and Spot stop him from pushing it too far

***

If Race had a bouquet of flowers, he would have given them all away by now. He couldn't help but look after everyone around him.

Whether it was skipping a meal so one of the younger kids had enough - he wasn't the only who did that after all - or giving his coat up on a cold morning, Race was happy to do it so the kids would be okay. 

He and Jack were very similar, only Race was a little more self sacrificing. 

Sure he often went to bed with an empty stomach, desperate for food, or returned home with blue lips and shaking hands, but what did that matter. 

*

Race was the first one up that morning. Outside with a lit cigar at least twenty minutes before the morning bell went off. His mind was fuzzy, thanks to the lack of food and sleep. 

His mind was too fuzzy to remember how long it had been since he'd last eaten, but he did know he hadn't slept in the same amount of time. 

It was going to be a long day. That's what Race decided, as the boys of the lodgings began to wake. 

A happy buzz filled the air, and Race couldn't help but smile. It made everything worth it when he saw everyone so happy. 

"Mornin' Racer." Jack's voice came from behind him. 

Race turned to face the elder, willing his hands to stop shaking as he dared to remove the cigar from his mouth. 

Jack often said he was too dependent on the cigars, and quite frankly, Race agreed. He needed them to stop his mind from going too fast. Racing if you would. Even when they weren't lit, just having something there calmed his mind, and grounded him.

"Mornin' Jackie," Race smiled weakly. He looked like utter crap, and he knew it. He'd looked at himself this morning and could he looked a breath away from keeling over. 

"Youse is up early, couldn't ya sleep?" Jack asked, leaning himself against the wall of the lodgings as he stifled a yawn. 

None of them really slept enough. Not even the littles, who they forced into bed at eight o'clock. 

"Woke early, wanted a little peace 'fore these lot got up," Race explained lamely, taking another long drag from the cigar. The fuzz of his brain was beginning to fade, giving him more chance of being good for selling. 

Jack nodded, "m'kay Racer, D'you wanna come sellin' wif me t'day?" He was fidgeting with his hands, something Jack always did when he was worried. 

And right now Jack was more worried than ever. Race didn't look well, and Jack hated that he'd let that happen. 

"Nah, I'm good sellin' in Brooklyn, I said I's would go an' see Spot today, ain't seen 'im in a while," Race mumbled he eyelids trying to close. He was dead tired. But catching sight of Romeo and Elmer coming downstairs, he forced them open, he had to be okay for them. 

"Okay, I guess I's will havta force ya to spend time wif me later then," Jack smiled, ruffling Romeo's hair as the kid walked out the door. 

There was a muffled complaint from the kid, followed with a cheeky grin as he ran off round the corner. 

Race was pleased to see the kid full of energy. Romeo was his little brother after all, and they were all too similar. Having seen Romeo so sick a couple days ago, it made Race smile that little bit more. 

"Youse never havta force me to be with ya Jackie, I's will sell wif youse t'morrow if ya want." 

Jack walked forwards and wrapped his arms round Race. "Only if youse wants to Racer," he said, patting the younger lightly on the back. He could feel the younger shaking, and that did nothing but add to his worry. 

"Course I's does." 

*

When breakfast came, Race couldn't stop his stomach from rumbling. He wasn't going to eat though. The thought of food just made him feel sick, which would make it a waste. It was no good wasting it on him when one of the kids could get a little extra into them. 

This morning, his breakfast went to Buttons, who had woken up with a cough the day before.

"Eat up kid," Race said, handing him a biscuit, "we's can't have ya bein' all sick." 

He tried to ignore his shaking hands, or the beating of his heart as he sipped at his coffee. 

"Thanks Racer, I's was really hungry this mornin'," Buttons said, beaming up at Race. He took a bite, then let out a little cough, the cold that was currently working its way around the lodgings, finding its next victim. 

This made the empty pit that was Race's stomach fill with joy. Which was better than food really. Watching the people he cared about smile, made all his pain worth it.

A few seconds later, Albert walked over, holding a biscuit out for Race. 

"I got two, guessed you'd give yours away again," Albert said, fear filling his eyes. 

The two of them were basically twins. They were as close as two people could be, as thick as thieves, always looking out for one another. 

Albert had noticed a while ago the Race wasn't eating properly. Before Jack had done, which really wasn't a surprise. He just didn't know how to say anything. Albert didn't want to upset his best friend, he didn't want to cause an argument, he just wanted Race to be okay. 

"I's 'kay thanks Albie, coffee's good this mornin'," Race said quickly, taking a large gulp of the pretty awful tasting coffee. They'd all grown used to that taste, since it was something that kept them going.

"Well I's ain't gonna eat two," Albery frowned, keeping his arm extended. Jack often told him he was stubborn, but he knew Race was worse. 

"Give it ta one a the twins, they's normally sharin' one," Race suggested, taking his last mouthful of coffee before giving the cup back to the nuns. 

Albert sighed, he'd talk to Jack, see if their leader could get a better result. 

*

While walking over the Brooklyn bridge, Race couldn't deny he felt dizzy. He'd only managed half the sales he'd usually have got by this point in his journey. A result of being quite so delirious. 

He'd make up for it once he reached sheepshead. Race always had been a good seller, it was just a bit easier when he could actually read the headline. 

After a few failed attempts, with his voice deciding to slur, Race sat down, desperate for the fuzz in his brain to leave him alone. 

He wasn't quite sure how long he was sat there, head in his hands, but when he looked up again, Jack was stood in front of him. 

"Is youse followin' me or somefin'." His tone was aggressive, Race was annoyed. He didn't try standing, he knew he couldn't, so Race just glared at Jack waiting for the elder to say something. 

Jack shook his head, "we's is meetin' someone, is youse okay ta stand?" he asked, taking Race's papers and adding them to his own pile. 

With what was entirely stubbornness and stupidity, Race forced himself onto his feet, and pretended he wasn't now clinging to Jack like his life depended on it. 

"You're an idiot Racer," Jack said softly, taking the majority of the younger's weight as they walked the rest of the way over the bridge. 

Race let out a small grunt in response, he didn't feel with it enough to find words.

They reached a small alley in Brooklyn, and Jack stopped, still holding Race up.

 Catch," came a voice from the other end of the street. 

Race saw the object flying towards him, but his brain was nowhere near fast enough to catch it. He was just waiting for it to hit his head. 

Jack - using only instinct, the first catch of his life - caught the object, which was a small apple, and handed it to Race. 

"Whachu tryna do Conlon, knock 'im out?" Jack asked, smiling at the Brooklyn leader. 

Spot let out a small laugh, "mornin' Racer, thought we's was meetin' later." 

At that, Race simply hummed. He didn't have the energy to do anything else. Black spots were swarming his vision, and Race didn't think he would be able to stay awake much longer. 

"Race," Jack's voice came from beside him, but it felt a million miles away. 

Everything was going quiet. Even the usual noise of the city felt distant, almost like Race was in a bubble. 

The back dots grew bigger, till they filled his vision and Race collapsed out of Jack's hold, slipping into an endless darkness.

*

When Race opened his eyes again, both Spot and Jack were close to him. He quickly realised he was in the Brooklyn lodgings, having spent many a night there. 

Race didn't try to move, he knew he was too weak to manage that, since he'd pushed it too far this time. 

"Mornin' idiot," Jack said, trying to look grumpy at Race. This wasn't successful, as the fear and worry was far too obvious. 

 "'Ow long was I out?" Race asked, voice slurring slightly. 

"Three hours, ya really are an idiot Racer. Why's ain't youse eatin' or sleepin'?" Spot said, standing further away, but looking just as concerned. He folded his arms, leaning against the wall as he waited for Race to reply. 

"The sleepin' ain't my fault. Nightmares 'ave been keepin' me up. I's can't help it sometimes," Race shrugged, curling in on himself. 

Jack sat himself beside Race, brushing the messy blond curls out of the youngers face, "tha's when ya come an' wake me." 

"Jack, youse has the little ones waking ya like three times a night-" Race was cut off. 

"I don' care Racer, ya can't go three days without sleepin' it ain't okay." 

Race gave Jack a little nod. He wanted to pretend everything was okay, and that he was fine. But he wasn't. He was so far from alright. 

"We's gon' have lunch together Race, there's no gettin' out of it," Spot said in a quiet voice, only half clenching his fists. 

"I," Race said, unable to find words for the first time in his life. He looked up at Jack in fear, incapable of describing the terror he was experiencing. 

"Ya gotta eat every day Racer, I knows youse never has breakfast, an' youse always disappearin' at dinner. We's worried about ya," Jack said softly, his hands shuffling anxiously. 

"Youse won't make me have other meals?" 

"Not if it's too much," Jack half smiled. 

"M'kay Spottie, I's will have lunch wif youse," Race said, looking over at Spot as he took in a deep breath. 

Spot nodded in response. He wanted to be close to Race, but he didn't want to get too close with Jack around. So many people knew about their relationship, but it was different being affectionate in front of people. 

"We's got some soup, can ya eat for us Racer?" 

"If ya help me up Jackie," Race responded, his stomach letting out a loud rumble. His hands were shaking, and he was still afraid of eating, but he was with two of his favourite people, so things had to be okay. 

Jack slowly brought Race into a sitting position, getting him to rest his head against the wall in case he got dizzy again. "I's gonna leave ya here with Conlon, an' he's gon' look after ya till youse don't look half dead anymore. Is youse okay wif tha'?" 

Race nodded his head slightly, "'m sure Spottie will take great care of me," he smirked, "you get out sellin' make sure the kids are alright." 

"I'll see ya soon Racer," Jack said, shaking his head fondly. He quickly ruffled the kid's hair, before grabbing all three stacks of papers, and skipping out of the Brooklyn lodgings. 

When Jack was out of sight, Spot unfolded his arms and settled himself beside Race. 

"I-" Race tried but Spot instantly cut him off. 

"No, you gotta stop this shit Race. Stop bein' so bloddy self sacrificin'. Winter's comin' soon, an' I can't lose you," Spot said, his usually aggressive facial expression settling into one of pure care and concern. 

"I love you Spottie, I's don' wanna leave youse, I promise." 

"I love you too Racer." 

*

If Race had a bouquet of flowers, he would have given them all away by now. Luckily, he had some amazing people around him to make sure he always had at least one flower remaining, to keep him going. 

He was going to be okay, he knew that now. All Race had to do, was keep hold of that flower.

[grim-faux]

13 - Too See

There was only black and I began to wonder if this was death.  Was this the great beyond scholars and science speculated when the brain finally died, when the soul departed the body?  Penetrating and encompassing black?  Was this eternity? Then I coughed, and felt the dull ache in my side.  Everything in me ached.  I was hurt, but I wasn’t dead.  My senses trickled in little by little, I could pick up the stagnant veil of this place, the cold digging into my skin - though my arms felt warm crushed and numb under me.  Couldn’t feel my hands, didn’t care about that.  I tried opening my eyes and saw only black.  Typical.  And I was laying on top of that camera again.

It was a requisite.  Car keys, a cell phone, a nice pocket knife, you nod of with one of them in your pocket, it will dig into your side.  Damn camera was bigger than those, I was going to wreck the NV sooner or later.  I could cart it through sewers, keep lunatics with clubs from smashing it, but sleep on it and it’s all over. I feel asleep?  How?

I didn’t bother to figure this out, or try and get of the cold vent. It was quiet and I needed a few seconds to get my bearings, and make certain that I was awake this time. The nightmare had shaken me, I still felt those shears in my chest and the blood spilling from the wound. How unsettling to dream about my own death in this place. Made everything feel ten times more dangerous than it already was, if I touched the walls they’d scorch my hands. Same thing happens whenever I see a rattlesnake, suddenly every bush and every rock has one.

Grunting, I turn over getting off my poor camera and let the cold work its way into my coat, the thin metal buckled as my weight was redistributed.  I felt a little better, more so than that crappy fifteen minute break before I stumbled into the basement. I pulled my camera up onto my chest and stopped the recording, in order to wind it back to where I stopped. I guess when I was crawling to the edge of the vent toward the light I just passed out. Probably needed it, I’m just damn thankful I didn’t keel over while I was still at the opening or when Trager was….

That damn psycho.  I had nearly forgotten him.  Couldn’t outrun him in my nightmares. I couldn’t bear to view the footage.  The way the hoister was designed would still allow the cameras eye to record, idea for when security got involved and ordered me to put it away.  The picture was not always the best, but it’d catch the more obvious actions and conversations.  I put my hand over the speaker feed as my voice came through, panicked and pitiful.  Sounded like a different man. An hour and fifteen minutes.  Felt longer in the dream, felt like I had dreamed something else after it.  Something worse than death, either of which I didn’t care to remember.  While I was MIA Trager could have lost interest in me and found someone else to cut up.  Maybe Father Martin.  Now that was praying to god. Getting out of the vent was tricky, after my muscles had relaxed in the cramped space.  I lowered myself carefully over the edge, bracing with one arm to relieve some of the pressure in my sore hands before I dropped, then limped off the resulting shock.  I staggered into the nearby lavatory and gave the area a hasty scan.  No sounds to suggest Trager was near, or anyone for that matter.  Just the soft patter of rain on glass. What an odd sense of Deja’vu. At least the walls weren’t covered in blood, and there was no bucket full of severed head.  It had all seemed so real, so vivid.  No surprise, I had great source material.  This place could still fuck itself though. I checked the stalls before I gave pause, nothing was contained in them, not even severed limbs.  The janitorial closet did have a small table cart with files spilling over it, the pages covered in a fine silt made apparent as I shuffled them around.  I pulled out a few to view and shut the main door to the room, before settling near the shattered mirrors. Male ward.  Check.  I didn’t think I would be using the bathroom for a while, fuck you very much psycho doctor.  Sinks lined one wall and they did work.  Carefully, I washed the blood from my hands and around the ragged digits, but I didn’t mess with the injured area too much.  I would be going through hell to keep the scabs, let alone the surface from getting more ripped up than it already was. I poked a bit more at the index finger where the bone was exposed, a little amazed at how the minimal pressure didn’t bother too much.  A translucent skin still coated the bone’s surface and I could make out….uh veins…. The granola was still in my coat.  I don’t know if it was safe to eat, but it was still sealed.  I fished it out of the breast pocket and inspected it, there was a bit of blood and some dirt smudged on it, from whenever I dug around for the notepad.  The label didn’t do its contents justice, promoting high fiber in a balanced diet.  I needed sugar in my blood and this little thing was better than some overpriced dinner. I rinsed it and shook most the water off, then gingerly took the edge of the package in the thumb and middle finger of my right hand, as I pinched it normally with the left.  It was easier than I anticipated to pull the wrapper apart, but the bar was a little melted and impossible to get out whole.  I ate what I could and drank some water, a lot of water.  Then got up, moved around a bit, jumping and springing back and forth, and prepared myself for what may come. I went ahead and recorded some of the files I had picked up, nothing relevant to the Project Walrider, but there was an interesting Request notice. From: David Annapurna  To: hresources.us@murkoffcorp.lu  Subject: Request for Reassignment  To Whom it May Concern,  This is my third asking for reassignment after two months without an answer.  I don’t want to work at Mount Massive any more. I have been an orderly my entire adult life, but have never experience such a consistent level of secrecy and disrespect.  I even have suspicions that some of the patients may be being abused.  I know personally two of them who have been moved to the basement ward and never returned.  If I don’t get an answer to this email, I will be forced to resign, and my very well consider contacting the press.  Thanks for your time.  David Annapurna I said the name aloud then looked through the files for anymore emails or reports that related to this.  David Annapurna.  I couldn’t say I ever heard the name before, but he mentioned the press.  Was this my contact?  Why the fuck didn’t he warn me about this place?! Well, he wasn’t high clearance.  That was a pissy excuse.  He could’ve at least alerted me to the nature of some of these people?  Don’t note, “They have massive anger issues,” when the fucker throws people out of windows!  Put down, “He’s fuckin scary and he’ll eat children!!  Hope you have a pilot’s license.” Have you also met or local physician in practice?  He likes to cut off fingers, and tongues, and peoples balls off!  By the end of this, you’ll no longer have grievances for cold water. Good god, I needed to get out of here. The door gave me some trouble, the knob stuck and my palms had fresh lines of blood.  I managed to force it with little sound and stepped into the connecting hall.  Still no sign of Trager, and anything living for that matter.  I was running on borrowed time, sooner or later I’d get a nasty surprise.  The next door gave no trouble, and the room beyond looked deserted.  Beds had been left at the back near the barred windows, I almost expected to see patients chained to them but they were void of life.  The room felt colder than those that held the doomed people, but I attributed that with the lack of electricity. Even the light at the front of the room felt cold. I walked around the beds but found nothing that stood out from the usual, some files to record but nothing noteworthy.  The ominous doors loomed at the end of the room, and I stood before them studying the dry kindling that comprised their matter, the gray tone adopted after years of neglect.  I inhaled slowly and slipped one open, as always listening for the danger.  The hall beyond was short and didn’t extended into the dark depths as I thought it might, bed frames had been crammed between the walls at the left.  In the other direction was another set of duo doors, blocked with boards. I stared into the small office across from me, the dial tone of a phone hummed on the floor somewhere.  This seemed more than coincidental, this looked exactly like it did in my dream.  Except…there was a key hanging on the wall now.  I slipped over the counter and crossed to it, the label above read Elevator.  Well, now I had it. I took the key and dropped it into my pocket.  The door was jammed but with my weight braced to, the frame snapped.  I tumbled out catching the wall against my hands, the pain stretching through my knuckles nearly overshadowed the menacing scraping noise of those scissors as Trager stepped in from the next hall. “Hey buddy, where you been?” I slammed the door in his face, completely forgetting it was already busted.  He still had to swing it open, while I had already sprint over the counter and lunged into the other room.  I flung the next door shut and retreated to the middle of the room, where the shadows were not diminished by the outside light.  As I slid under a bed, the grating chatter announced Trager’s entrance.  I buried my face in my shoulder to muffle my heavy breathing. “You’re overreacting.”  He snipped the shears and scanned the room.  “How can I set you to ease?  I swear, you’re not gonna get a better deal elsewhere.” Seriously, I didn’t understand what the fuck he was talking about.  Made me hate him even more.  I tensed when it sounded like he was directly beside me, but he was nearer to the wall clinking as he dropped down to check under a bed.  He wasn’t facing me. I crawled out from my hiding spot and slinked across the room, ducking down again and faced the wrong way as he stood up snipping the shears.  For a minute Trager stood in total silence gazing over the room, the odd monocle glinting in what light slipped in through the barred window.  Where did that light brave from, through the storm?  I could almost see him clearly, the sharp textures accenting his skeletal skin.  I slipped the camera into its pack and watched him unmoving.  Waiting.  Waiting for someone to blink, someone to give in.  The rain drummed gently on the glass and I heard something thudding hard, like the desperate rap on a door. My heartbeat. Trager fixed his eyes on something in the distance to the side, and I waited for my opportunity to move.  When he turns his back, when he averts his gaze, that will be my chance.  Thunder crackled right outside the window and a sudden blaze of light lit up the room, his face snapped to where I lay. “Hey!”  He dashed over to me and reached under the bed, as I rolled away and leapt over his back, the door in my sights.  He thrust his elbow up catching my knee in midflight, and I flopped against one of the pillars.  He spun around as I recovered, “Come on now, don’t be difficult.”  He swept the shears out as I twisted away, they slapped my shoulder and I dropped hard to my knee. A bed was right beside me, I had enough time to crawl under as Trager brought his weapon down through the thin mattress.  I yowled when the shears pierced my backside, he grunted as he attempted to force the blades down but the metal frame prevented that.  I jerked out from under them, and rolled away as he tore the shears free.  As he vaulted over the next bed, I crawled under the last and shoved myself upright and sprint for the open door.  I didn’t bother to shut it as I went, I needed to reach that elevator. I exited into the original corridor, with the two rooms and the patients.  The elevator was just down at the end. Everything was as I left it, the shelf shoved aside and the door left wide open and welcoming my dubious return.  I zipped through into the cheerfully lit elevator, with the foreboding blood splatter right at its entrance.  I paid it no heed as I dug the key from my pocket and being as gentle as broad panic would allow, inserted it into the slot.  I hit the down button and stood back, breathing a sigh of relief when the gate jerked shut.  The grumpy machine gave a stubborn lurch before it began to descend.  Once I was stationary I began to notice the painful throbbing in my hands and recalling the wounds, checked to see fresh blood spilling.  This didn’t surprise me.  In my desperation to escape, I had dug my fingertips into whatever was within reach.  Just had to ignore it, and for a while I’d forget. I was slipping down to sit when I heard the gate of the elevator rattle below, and all at once I forgot. “I’m not giving up on you, buddy,” Trager grunted, accompanied by sharp metal clinks and snaps. I backed up into the furthest corner and watched him force the shears between the lock on the elevator, the mechanism snapped and the gate came loose.  He shouldered his way through and raised the shears over his head. No.   I lunged forward snaring his elbow in one hand and used the other to shove him backwards.  Trager looked stunned by this retaliation, and slapped at my face as I bullied him out the opening.  The shears spun wild in his grip grazing my hair, I tucked my face down and glared with the edge of my eye.  He snagged my coat sleeve as I pressed him out, the elevator was still going down throughout this and I was losing leverage as he leaned onto me.  I grabbed the metal frame on my right, rammed him in the chest with my elbow and threw him back out. Just DIE! Trager recovered and lunged, thrusting the metal blades at my face.  I pulled myself UP out of the lift to snag them at the base, and felt them breeze by my forehead.  We were suddenly fighting face to face, I was teetering on the edge while Trager struggled to wrench the scissors from my grip.  If he had another chance to lunge, I didn’t think I could stop him.   Something happened in that instant.  I turned my face up to his and looked into his murky eye.  I swear I saw something there, something fleeting in his expression.  And it scared me.  That ‘look’ in his face scared me more than ‘Doctor’ Rick Trager himself. “Wha—?” he stammered. Just fucking die. My foot slipped and I latched onto his shoulder, jerking him with me.  He yelped as he toppled forward, his fist gave me a good smack as he fell halfway into the elevator.  I winced from the sudden impact and snapped my arm up, when he swung the shears for my head.  He cut a long slice up my sleeve instead.  I stooped lower as they snapped once more in empty air, but it probably wasn’t necessary.  He took one more swipe at me, even as the lift lowered over his torso. The mad doctor gave a sharp squeal of pain as the machine compressed his organs, I heard bones crunch and skin splint as the metal frame nearly cut him in half.  I stepped back as he gave a small whimper, his hand finally releasing the shears - they fell between the connecting floors and thereafter lost to the depths of hell.  With the unyielding obstruction, the elevator ground to a despairing halt.  It was almost worth it. For a while I stood, back pressed against the wall as I gazed at Trager, wondering if this were true.  Was he…dead?  Was it possible to kill him? I pulled out the camera and filmed.  A little bit of blood was dripping from his lips, his oily hair had settled over the top of his bald head in clumps, and he finally shut up.  He must’ve been dead, regardless, he was no longer a threat. “How To Make Trager Juice Step 1:  squeeze.” I tucked the notepad away, wincing as my exposed bone got caught on a loose thread.  It cut at the remaining skin, but didn’t hurt the bone.  I snapped the troublemaker free and zipped the pocket shut, then turned to locate a way out.  There was an escape panel in the roof.  I secured the camera in its hoister and unlatched the panel.  I gave the now deceased Trager a final glare, before I climbed up.  A hot pain made itself known in my backside.  Where he stabbed me. The elevator hadn’t gone down very far, I still needed to reach the ground floor.  I paused under the light that greeted me, but saw a stronger source down a hall where some filing cabinets had fallen over.  An open gate was there as well, a good place to start in my search for the exit.  I stood by the cabinet and turned as far as I could to view the damage.  There was a tear in my coat, revealing my shirt and red had spilled all the way down, soaking the back of my pants almost to the back of my knee.  The wound felt soggy and it hurt when I applied pressure through the coat, but nothing else was broken.  Nothing serious.   I had to take a moment to look at my hands.  Yeah, anything short of decapitation and I’ll feel insulted. This definitely was an older section of the asylum.  The stairs looked ancient, the wood railing worn with the slick polish of a thousand hands, everything was wood and each step creaked as I took it gently.  I couldn’t shake it, but I thought I could smell something burning.  Maybe just the stale air of the hall playing tricks with my mind, it was hard to think fire with the storm outside and the soft rain splattering the windows. I walked down the steps relying on the nightvision, despite how low I was on batteries.  The current charge was still good, a little less than half remained. The gate at the steps bottom was locked effectively blocking my progress, but in a small corridor on the left was a partially rotted wall.  I crept around the railing and peered into the break, where someone had torn away the plaster surface.  The wood was loose enough that I could get some of the panels out, allowing me to lean down and squeeze through.  On the other side was a small office setup and a phone with its typical complaint.  I picked it up and set it on the receiver as I looked over the room. The desk with its neglected monitor seemed out of place in this museum.  Billboards hung on the walls, pinned with notices, a few filing cabinets lined the walls.  A shattered chair lay on the other side of the room, I flipped through the shelves loaded with medical books and boxes of files, but nothing held my interest.  On the wall hung a Team Work plaque.  I scoffed at it and searched the desk.  A few batteries had made home in a CD player. CD player?  They still made those things? I crossed to the door and paused listening before trying the handle.  I winced when my finger brushed against the rough wood.  Careful, I didn’t need to be leaving little blood trails all over the place.  I’d seen enough of that. On the other side was a larger office with only a small desk situated near an outdated furnace.  Heating must have been terrible in this place.  Not far from this set up, a crushed door was pinned in its frame.  The door didn’t matter, there was a massive hole blown out of the wall a few feet away.  I wondered if someone came in here, or if they tossed the filing cabinet through the wall.  It didn’t look like it had been previously tossed.  Glass crinkled underfoot as I stepped through, and lowered the camera to view the new area. The exit was near the kitchen, that’s where Trager caught me.  Bad memories, all of it behind me now.   It was on this floor, I’m sure.  Just needed to find a way over there.  I wasn’t certain where I was.  Some large open hall with overturned desks and files scattered everywhere, chairs lined the walls between the large decorative and ornate pillars embedded with the plaster.  The air was musty, everything used and worn out then forgotten.  This place resembled an atrium or waiting room, but with less grandeur.  Had I gone back in time?  Everything was beginning to look ancient. I had to keep in mind the Asylum was shut down in the seventies, it wasn’t exactly the medieval times but it had been built long before the more modern conveniences.  Most likely when Murkoff took over, the outdated facilities were condemned for public appearance, then they built the newer areas for their precious staff and left everything else – old drafty building and prison blocks - to the patients.  Grade A bastards right there. Then, did this mean the patients had not been in the newer section of Mount Massive when everything began?  It was clear now they traveled between the two sections via their own means, but Murkoff never bunked them with their people?  It did make sense.  If you viewed it from Murkoff’s perspective, whom barely credited their victims with a shred of humanity.  I’m sure they didn’t want the scientists awoken in the dead of night to the shrieking, when god knows what was being done. I walked along filming the walls, taking in details.  This area looked much tamer than the other section of the asylum, a lot less death and gore.  No one had been on this side at the time when the shit storm hit, probably never made it here with the front doors on lockdown.  There were no mechanical doors on this side, I had seen that first hand.  That exit was wide open and waiting for me Movement behind the windowed in office startled me, and I had jumped back several feet before a light shown through at me.  I let out an exasperated sigh as I resumed my path to the dark figure.  I didn’t get too close though, despite the wall between us.  Who knew what He was up to? “Thank God, you survived,” Martin gushed.  I sighed and lowered the camera to my side.  “I feared that secular maniac would carve you up like the others.”  He glanced around, as though he expected someone other than me to be listening or nearby.  “Meet me outside, we’re close now.”  With that vouch of encouragement he turned and jogged off. Close to what?  He took the exit, but that’s as far as I could tell.  This just made matters worse.  I had no idea what this ‘Father’ was getting at, he kept leading me around the Asylum and the idea he could locate me easily never settled well.  Not after he jumped me in the Security room. The door was nailed tight, and the glass was that shatter proof junk.  Unless the big fucker just appeared on the other side, I wasn’t getting through.  It might’ve been easier do tear the rotten wood beneath the windows, but the interior wood was either too thick or reinforced in some manner asylums included in their layout of inconvenience. On the left was a large archway that led into more dark halls, for a change of pace.  This place was a maze of halls, and I was the mouse.  The mouse that smelled burning feathers.  I’m sure something was burning, it was a blistering and out of place scent among these frigid walls.  It had that bad plastic stink from a microwave, or when an idiot burnt the popcorn.  Piercing and lingering after each exhale. The hall took a right, but beyond that at distance trailed the thin line of light beneath a door.  I pushed aside a small cart that was in the path and paused, listening as the oppressive silence wound around.  Something was hissing, a pipe in the wall, the sound was soft and inconsistent.  The light danced in its little slice of heaven and a thick vapor did not go unnoticed as it crept between the thick slats of shadow.  I gave the door a light push and tilt around the frame to see inside, the NV wasn’t necessary in the restroom due to the light wavering in the sink.  I gaged at the foul air that stung my throat and pressed my arm over my mouth.  Ugh. An arm and leg roasted away, the skin hissed and bubbled, most of it scorched with dark smoke billowing off the cooked pieces.  For some reason they were on fire.  I didn’t understand why, or what sort of logic could be behind this.  Did someone light them or was someone playing with a lighter?  This did not bode well.  The smog began to dissipate immediately with the door open, but not enough to clear the air or make it any more breathable.  Fucking hell, this didn’t even surprise me anymore.  I wish it did, I really do, but I think it’s expected by now. The fumes were making me nauseous, prompting me to shut the door and move on.  It wouldn’t be worth it to risk checking the stalls if the pyromaniac was still there, more unstable than usual due to smoke inhalation.  I didn’t doubt there was a fire here somewhere, and I’d stumble upon it too soon.  How it came to be was a mystery, but I should either do something about it if I could or try a little harder to find that exit.  Now. Let this place burn to the ground, but not before I’m outside to watch. I returned to the foremost corridor, passing by pictures of the Asylum’s founders, and an abandoned wheelchair.  Somewhere a patient or another of Murkoff’s surviving personnel shrieked, I barely paused before trying the unobstructed door at the end of the hall.  Tile walls met the NV, and as I entered the distant echo of crashing came.  I waited in the doorframe staring up and blinking, the sound of my steady breathing seemed thunderous in the small space.  The noise eventually settled into a less threatening fumbling, I tried to figure out its origins as I shut the door and slipped down the small hall.  Could it be people in the walls?   It was a short walk then a left, and I stopped to peer around the corner and listen for the natural symphony of the Asylum.  Most old buildings creaked and settled, this place murdered and screamed. I shut off the NV and scanned around.  A large shower room for the male ward, rectangular in shape with a wall built through the center.  Showers lined one wall with lockers on the other, benches to sit at and laundry baskets scattered near the lockers.  A couple of the doors looked to have been torn open, I envisioned someone was searching for the guard that lay bloody and beaten on the floor. I stepped by the man and checked the backside of the room where it ended via uprooted lockers.  A box of files had been dumped here, the contents ruined by a lot of blood and water leaking from a cracked shower head.  I flipped through some of the salvable pages and found a note that was pertinent. From: r.trager@murkoffcorp.lu  To: p.walsh@murkoffcorp.us.com  Subject: Annapurna, employee no. 531920  Mr. Walsh,   Please accept the immediate resignation of Orderly 531920, David Annapurna, and process him as a patient of Mount Massive to treat his prosecutorial delusions. Treatment should continue until the time of his death. Thanks, buddy.  Rick Trager  Murkoff R&D This couldn’t possibly be the same Rick Trager that liked to tie people down and cut them up.  Not by a long shot.  I noted the guard as I walked by, his wounds appear fresh and the puddle of blood still crept along the tile’s cracks.  Which only meant his killer was nearby, which didn’t mean a whole lot.  Every other persons killer was nearby, it would be weird if I ran into a none psychotic, lucid patient.  I pause and note a trail of bare feet prints leading around the next corner, and the only path currently open to me.  The shower room had excellent acoustics, but I carried on with caution when slipping around the corner. Urinals lined the wall on the other side, no lockers of alcoves for a person to crawl into.  The end of the room had no light leaving the NV as my only visibility.  The smell of smoke was getting stronger and the air was unbearably stuffy and thick, I was coughing before I opened the door and stepped into a wall of heat.  My left was blocked by tables and cabinets, I was forced to the right where the visibility was obstructed by the thick hazy.  I lingered in the next hall and checked my corners before stepping out. High above, windows wavered with orange and yellow streaks.  I walked along the wall determined to find a way around rather than through, I didn’t care how many magnet key cards I needed to pull off dead security.  The hall on the left ended in what looked like a blockade, with tables crammed at a door just to discourage the trip. The only door into the room, cafeteria the plate said, was stacked with more tables and containers, setting me a bit to ease.  I didn’t need to fight the door yet, and no one could break it down.  I navigated around discarded furniture, a broken desk and a wheelchair, toward a shattered door frame beckoning at the other end.  There had to be a way around, there had to be an alternate route to the cafeteria. The fire crackled on the other side, and the smoke seeped through a high open window.  I breathed a little easier upon stepping into the next hall, across the way another door nailed shut.  I ventured left listening to the wood crackle behind the walls, sweat gathered on my brow to slip down around my eyes.  The halls end was obstructed by all manner of useless crap, but a door had been left ajar on the right.  I was beginning to surrender to the concept of just climbing through that window. Behind the door was a small utility closet.  Fuck. There was only the open window into the heart of hell.  Fuck.  I retraced my steps and found bloody handprints on the edge of the window.  Fuck.  I climbed up, getting a face full of heat as I pulled myself over into the room.  Everything was on fire.  Even the fire was on fire. I hate this place. Upturned lunch tables, long table carts, everything piled and jammed in every direction as though orchestrated to utilize the mother of bonfires. The wooden tables were a wild blaze and at first glance it looked like there was no way through without roasting, but the floor ahead was plenty clear enough.  If I didn’t fall sideways.  The metal wasn’t on fire, only the walls and most of the ceiling.  I noted to myself to use caution with the camera, the heat could damage the memory drive and that would just wreck this entire ordeal. No matter what, I would get out of here with all my evidence, everything.  That had always been my goal in the beginning, and it has been what kept me going.  It might seem petty, but someone had to remember what happened here, and that everyone had been killed by something – the former victims, Chris Walker, a lunatic with a fancy for taking people apart.  And people were not done dying. The heat had swelled within its small confines until the room had all but burst, I coughed against the smoke and kept low out of the heavy fumes.  I stepped around the small pieces of kindling that had already fallen from the ceiling, scanning the bright yellow fingers for the safest path.  My face was beginning to feel parched as my sweat dried, and my fingers ached against the brutal onslaught.  I ducked to the side as some of the timber from above crashed down, sending a swirl of red embers across the tile.  Needed to get out of here before it collapsed. Some tables were stacked over each other, but I could see no other way around.  I pulled my collar up around my neck and ears before I knelt low and crawled underneath.  A couple dozen trays had been scattered across the floor, which I kept away from as I stood up and stopped.  A patient sat on the table beside my current path, his feet had red coloration but that could have been the orange flames mingling with my vision.  I coughed a bit at the smoke as I stepped closer to him. “I had to burn it.  All of it.”  Subtly, I raised the camera from the pack to film him. “Murkoff took so much from us.  Used us.”  He held up his hands, indicating the mutilation.  If he turned his head to my left, he looked almost normal.  “Turned us into these things because nobody cares about a few forgotten lunatics.”  He dropped his hands over his lap and slumped forward. “So let it burn.  Burn the whole god damned thing down.  Get out.” He indicated me with a thumb.  “If you still want to live.  You can get out through the kitchen.” Good to know.  But the kitchen was on fire too. “I’m not the only victim here, not by a long shot. I watch a man wait to burn to death, the most painful death imaginable, rather than stay in this place.” I put the notepad away, and wrinkled my nose at the stench of burning meat.  A Murkoff or someone was pinned under a table, rotten and on fire, a horrible combination.  There were not many areas open to me, most the tables were engulfed with flames or getting there, I crawled over a shelving cart left sideways.  A piece of timber from above hit my back, and I swatted it away before damage could be done.  I picked up the pace, before the whole roof could crash down, or worse. I snapped the camera into its hoister and pulled my coat up over my head more, as I navigated the furnace.  A table in my path was catching fire, but not enough yet to deter me.  On the other side more of the staff lay slain, dried blood stuck to their cloths and fire chewing on their skin.  I was able to get under a shelf into a side of the cafeteria that hadn’t been overwhelmed by flames.  I exited through an open door to the other side, and shut it behind me.  To keep the fire from following.  I fixed my coat and fanned some of the heat from its surface.  Felt good to be dry and warm for once, it was difficult to recall what being cold and damp felt like.  The cool threads digging into the fibers of my coat reminded me that we’d be reacquainted here very shortly.   The hall went two ways, the right had nothing but a dead end and boarded up double doors.  To suffice my curiosity I made sure those nails were tight, then wove my way around broken wheelchairs and a crushed shelf to the other side.  Cabinets and industrial shelves had been stuffed into the hall, my only path would be the dark corridor that was open opposite of the way to the inferno.  Things were looking up. An archway straight ahead would have led to another room, if not for the stacks of shelves and whatnot packed into it.  Continuing to the right was another set of double doors, one open and accessible.  The churning roll of the flames had died down once I turned the corners into this corridor, and the creeping chill enveloped my skin.  How despairing the decrepit and harmless walls around me were less unfavorable, than that of the inferno. When I entered the office wing, I shut the door and exchanged out the battery.  I examined the room over extensively seeking a way out, an alternative path much better than charging through a kitchen that was on fire.  There was little to this room, it was large but most of that were the segregation walls and an area to the side encircled by a counter, inside, the walls had a few bookcases loaded with files and books.  A receptionist’s desk?  I glanced over a few but it looked like outdated pages before Murkoff.   Through an open doorway on the left side was another member of Murkoff slumped over his desk and blood staining the carpet under him.  His wrists were black, but that was the most of his injuries.  He might’ve committed suicide, but why?  Had he received word of what was happening in the Asylum and given up hope for escape?  What had been so horrible? The other side of the room had another desk, and a dead employee slumped beside the base, soaked with blood and multiple wounds wrecked his body.  An obvious contrast between him and his colleague.  A few files had been left on the desk, I flipped through finding one that made me uneasy IF YOU’RE SEEING THINGS, SAY SOMETHING. There’s no shame in Psychopathologist Proximity Stress Disorder (PPSD). Talk to your supervisor to get help from a Murkoff Success Counselor. Well, sure!  We want you to further the Murkoff Charity Association, also called BULLSHIT.  And you too can further OUR research with your mangled corpse, or highjack your brain and make you see some scary shit! Trager had also mentioned cutting employee pensions, wonder if this was part of his scheme to collect more bodies for the fucked up carnival ride Murkoff was running.  None of this surprised me, this was Murkoff after all.  Every underhanded and malicious tactic seemed to have been employed by the cooperation in this Project Walrider, and now they reaped what they had sewn.  Death, chaos, religion, and me at the center of it all. Burning was too good for it. There was little else in the remaining section of the room, just a box of pamphlets warning about sanitization work areas, nothing to note.  Nowhere to go.  The double doors on the other side were nailed tight, unless I really wanted to fight them.  I still had no idea what would be on the other side.  Nothing? I returned to the previous hall and looked over the shelving that was stacked there, and found a few carts and things that I could dislodge.  Easy, just drag them out and push the rest through.  I squeezed through, then stopped on the other side to check my back.  The fabric was stiff but that meant the bleeding had stopped.  I’d need a mild procedure later to fix that, the wound will have set long before stitches and I was certain it needed stitches. More dark, more failed security.  Another door on my left, barricaded shut from the other side with shelves and a table.  Might be one of the doors I’d viewed from the cafeterias hall, I’m certain I did come from that direction.  I stepped along murky windows hearing…a curios tapping, almost like the rattle of pellets, but I couldn’t find the source.  It faded as I continued and I decided that was a plus.  Whenever I heard that sound…. A plaque on the wall indicated Baths and Laundry ahead, and the Cafeteria was indicated the former hall I’d come from.  From where I stood, the faint outline of a medical table was visible, laying parallel to the wall.  Beyond that a door bolted up from inside the room and therefore not worth wasting my battery.  The NV was also giving me a mild ache, the monotone green haze dug into my concentration.   I could see through some of windows on the wall, within was a room with large vats, tile floors, but I had no way of accessing it.  At the moment it didn’t seem important, unless it provided an immediate means of escape.  There was no visible door that I could make out. The hall took a left and at the end light scared away the dark, but there was a door at the wall just before the corner.  Above the frame a plate labeled the room Emergency Sprinklers.  That seemed useful, if not better than nothing at all.  Though this section of the Asylum was out of date, it would still have the barest of fire prevention.  Either it was shut off along with the lockdown, or the basement was now a pool. I entered the dim room and found a pressure gauge, surrounded by its large pipes and a tank to the side.  The gauge was not as helpful as I had thought and read zero pressure for the water.  There had to be a way to get water back into the system.  I had no idea where to start, no map was available to indicate where additional tanks would be located. Sounded like someone in the floor above was having a wrestling match.  I stepped out of the room staring up, wondering if whatever was up there would tumble down here.  Or were people trying to escape the blaze that was catching.  Maybe both. At the halls end, where the light began, was another plate reminding where the Baths and Laundry Room were, and the cafeteria that was currently on fire.  This hall would lead back to it if it wasn’t blocked by the shelves and cabinets I had viewed from the opposite side.  It might’ve been easier to climb over, if it looked stable at all.  I sighed and pivoted to the lit hall unexplored. There had to be a way to redirect water into the emergency tanks.  The bath would be a good place to start, I’d have to check and get out of there fast.  Or find a bucket for water, that would be better than nothing.  I wasn’t asking much. The only light source was a lone lamp.  Beyond, the next room was dead with electricity, but on the opposing side was another light.  From my position I could make out silhouettes, the shapes obscured by the window frame on my side.  I moved towards the open doorway, where the door was I didn’t care, it wasn’t on its hinges and therefore could NOT be locked.  I jerked in my tracks catching the flutter of a shadow on the far wall.  I saw that!  I saw that! Then the big fucker marched into view, and I receded to the dark hall I had stepped from.  I knelt down and checked the corners edge to see if he was coming, I don’t think he saw me.  Chris stepped through the shadows towards the doorframe and paused, examining the area over.  In my new position, with the camera aimed and zoomed I could easily identify the body of Murkoff’s own, suspended by a cord fixed to his throat.  Another suicide? No matter what, I was getting out of this place.  Whatever it took.

[owletstarlet]

natsuyuu + singing/music

[From this themed ask meme.]

Oh, yes, good….

I’m gonna answer about musical talent instead of musical tastes (because regarding musical tastes of rural Japanese teenagers circa 2005, I dunno a fuckin’ thing, my guy).  

So Natori is probably a decent singer, or has at least practiced enough to be passable at it, because it’s a marketable skill to have as an entertainer. He doesn’t do it super often, and he doesn’t particularly like or dislike it, any more than acting, just something he views as another facet of his job, releasing a few formulaic tracks here and there to go with whatever drama he just starred in… And the first time Natsume heard one of the songs he was just in a music store with his friends minding his own business and then it starts playing over the speakers and he’s torn between incredulous laughter, throwing up in his mouth a little, and being very slightly impressed. When Matoba first learns about this he does his very best to make fun of Natori for it, but that pretty much dissolves into bickering and sniping—(“You’re singing pop music now? I see there’s really no depth the last pandering face of the Natori clan won’t sink to. If you’re that desperate just get over yourself ask for help already.” “Well why are you following my career closely enough to know I’m singing pop music?” “Even I go to the mall sometimes. It really is tiresome to see your gigantic overly retouched face plastered all over every available inch of advertising space and now I have to hear you everywhere too…” etc., etc…)

Moving right along to Tanuma. I have talked about this somewhat in meta asks before but whatever– In canon (ch 84) we get the one singular scene where he’s shown sitting at a piano, talking with Natsume in what looks to be an empty music room at the school. I guess the implication is that he’s practicing for a class or club while Natsume hangs out and listens, which are both normal and plausible assumptions. But unless canon directly states otherwise I’d headcanon it as him using the pianos for self-practice (and the chance to spend time with Natsume) once nobody else is using the music room. I think unless it’s mandatory he wouldn’t opt to take a music class because even if he loves piano he would absolutely not love having to play in front of groups of people. As to clubs—lest I go off into a diatribe about my strongly mixed feelings about Japanese school clubs as an institution and their impact on the emotional, psychological and physical health of students that I’ve seen firsthand (including music clubs with some really petty nasty politics and ridiculous practice schedules in addition to the stress of performing), I’ll just say a music club would be a Bad Time for Tanuma and not something he’d likely choose for himself. Side note, he also seems to have more free time in canon than a club schedule would likely allow. It makes more sense to me that it’s something he does for himself as a relaxing hobby and has done on and off since he was little.

I’d say due to costs and him frequently ill and moving towns a lot, he probably didn’t take consistent lessons, if anything it was probably some inexpensive community center lessons he’d attend as he was able throughout elementary and junior high. I think, though, that this is a great hobby for him to have had growing up, because if you’re too sick to leave your house and lonely and bored, a keyboard you can set up on your bed (with headphones so nobody else can hear if you mess up) and a stack of old piano lesson books can be a good remedy and comfort. Tanuma never thinks to mention to Natsume that he can play, until one day he comes by unexpectedly to check on Tanuma when Tanuma had been home sick from school, and Tanuma’s in the middle of practicing in his room (sans headphones) and not realizing for a good several seconds that Natsume’s in his doorway. Tanuma’s first anxiety-brain instinct is of course oh god put it away now before you embarrass yourself or bore him but he also realizes that that would be kind of a dick move when Natsume’s come out of his way to check on him. And provided Tanuma’s not going to keel over in the middle of it, Natsume Would In Fact Very Much Like To Listen, so that’s what happens, for the fifteen or so minutes before Tanuma’s dad makes him stop to to get some rest. And objectively it does Not sound all that great, even though he intentionally chose simpler stuff he has memorized from years of repetition so he won’t fuck it up, because he’s both sick and hyper-aware of his audience and thus keeps missing notes. But Natsume’s totally enthralled because I’m sure that rarely if ever has he gotten to listen to anyone play an instrument, least of all for his ears only.

From there it ends up becoming a weekly-ish occurrence, and Tanuma’s still a little baffled that it genuinely seems to make Natsume and relaxed to hear him rather than bored and too polite to say so. In terms of musical genre, I don’t think he’d particularly favor any one over another, and that it’d come down to whatever he can successfully teach himself, and whatever (most often secondhand) sheet music he gets his hands on. His dad will often give him music books as gifts, especially if he’s been on a trip, and will look for music shops and secondhand shops with sheet music when he travels. And a big (and very wholesome) motivator for Tanuma to keep practicing, I think, is to be able to show his dad the pieces he’s learned from the books his dad found for him. And his motivation, frequency of practice, and personal enjoyment of it all get a big ol’ boost once Natsume starts listening too. He’d want to start picking new things he’d think Natsume would enjoy hearing, but it’s difficult to gauge exactly what to choose when Natsume seems to genuinely enjoy every piece he hears. (Of course, Tanuma’s conclusion would be “he really likes to hear the piano” and he would not quite make the connection of “he really likes to hear me play the piano” until much later on, even if Natsume were to tell him outright.) Still, Tanuma’s perceptive enough to have worked out which specific pieces Natsume likes best, and will make sure to play those first if Natsume has clearly had a rough day or week. (Side note, one of those pieces is the Tottoro March, because early on after moving to Hitoyoshi he mentioned he’d never seen the movie before…to which Nishimura was like *dramatic gasp* “You’re coming over RIGHT NOW and we’re fixing that.” So it’s a very warm association for Natsume when he hears the song. And Tanuma, knowing this, does try to work some more Ghibli into his repertoire because whether Natsume’s seen the movies or not—and probably not in most cases—it’s got a similar gentle tone and feel to it, and very easy to find.)

Two additional sidenotes here: one, Touko has Absolutely knitted Tanuma a scarf with a piano key design…he did not quite know how to react upon receiving it, and worried later that he made a seemingly ungrateful ass of himself for getting all tongue-tied over it but he takes very good care of it and wears it all the time. Two, an effect of having a bunch of random mostly secondhand sheet music is that a lot of the pieces are scores from random movie/anime/game franchises that Tanuma knows literally nothing about, and of course if he got it from his dad/picked it up himself because it looked like it would sound interesting he’ll try to learn it regardless. And I’m Positive that at least once Nishimura hung out with him while he was practicing and almost had a stroke when he heard Tanuma start playing a piece like this from [insert whatever series/franchise Nishimura happened to be obsessed with at the time here], only to be like “what do you MEAN you’ve never seen it and also you sound GODDAMN AMAZING but I also feel slightly betrayed okay.”

Thanks for the ask, sorry for the wait, this was a super fun question!