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livesincerely · 4 years ago

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it’s beginning to look a lot like...

Part 3 of the Domestic AU, found here: x

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The First Christmas

“Jack!” There’s an excited shout, tiny hands slapping excitedly at his shoulders. “Jack, wake up, it’s Christmas!”

Jack jolts awake. The room is shadowed in blues and grays, the air cool and crisp the way it only is in the very early hours of the morning. Tony is kneeling on the mattress next to him, tugging insistently at Jack’s shirt sleeve.

“Wake up, Jack! It’s Christmas!” Tony says again, eyes wild with joy, shaking Jack once more.

“Christmas!” Charlie echoes, crawling up onto Jack’s bed as well, his hair sticking up on one side from where he slept on it. “Christmas!”

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. “I’m gettin’ up, give me a sec.”

Jack throws back the covers and swings his legs over the side, then lets the boys lead him into the hallway. Tony and Charlie hop and skip around him like the pair of tripping hazards they are, nearly breathless in their enthusiasm, stopping every now and then to throw Jack a pleading look or pull on his arm, urging him to move faster.

“Jack, are there presents? There are, right?” Charlie asks, his crutch knocking against the baseboards as he wiggles around.

“Or did you forget?” Tony cuts in, his face screwed up in the sort of perfect seriousness that only a six-year-old old can manage. “You can tell us if you forgot, we’ll still love you, promise.”

“I didn’t forget anything, numbskull,” Jack says, ruffling Tony’s hair. “I just knew better than to leave your presents layin’ around ‘cause you’d find ‘em an’ open ‘em early.

Jack wanders over to the cupboard and pulls out a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter, then goes over to the fridge and grabs a jar of jelly. Behind him he hears Charlie hiss, “See, I told you there was presents!”

“So, where are they?” Tony eagerly asks, looking at Jack like he might whip a couple of gifts out of his pockets.

“Hey, breakfast first, then presents,” Jack says, popping a few slices of bread into the toaster and pulling the lever down. “Don’tcha know ya can’t open Christmas presents on an empty stomach?”

For a moment it looks like Tony might argue, but he obediently climbs up to sit next to Charlie at the kitchen table, kicking his legs impatiently back and forth as he waits.

“Charlie, do you want jelly or peanut butter on your toast?” Jack asks.

“Can I have one jelly an’ one peanut butter?” Charlie says.

“Sure, bud.”

“I jus’ want peanut butter,” Tony announces, like this is new information. “Jus’ peanut butter.”

“I know, Tony,” Jack says with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t let any jelly touch your toast.”

Jack makes quick work of fixing the boys’ food, then reaches into a drawer and grabs a few napkins for them to use, making a mental note to swing by the McDonald’s up the block and grab some more, and maybe a few extra sleeves of plastic silverware while he’s at it.

“What do we think boys?” Jack asks, turning on the tap. “Red cups or blue cups?”

“Don’t we got any juice?” Tony asks. “I want juice.”

“We only have two juice boxes left,” Jack says. “You can have yours now if you want, but then you won’t be able to have any juice with dinner.”

Tony considers this conundrum very carefully. “Yeah, okay. Red cup, then.”

“Red cup for Tony,” Jack repeats, filling up a plastic cup with water and setting it next to him. “How ‘bout you Charlie?”

“Red, please!” Charlie chirps, just as Jack knew he would.

“And a red cup for Charlie,” Jack says, placing a second cup next to him.

Jack fills his own glass, then pops two more pieces of bread in the toaster for himself, leaning with a hip against the counter as he waits for it to finish. Tony and Charlie scarf down their toast like they’re starving for it, clearly eager to get to presents, and Jack calls, “Hey, slow down over there, you’re s’pposed to chew your food before you swallow it.”

“Jack,” Tony whines out the moment he chokes down his last bite. Both sides of his mouth are coated in crumbs and smudges of peanut butter. “Can we open presents now? ”

“Wipe your face,” Jack reminds him, adding a smear of jelly to his own slices of toast. “And your hands.”

“But can we?” Charlie asks, rubbing at his mouth with a napkin too. “Can we, can we, can we?”

“Well, I dunno...” Jack says, pretending to think it over. “Maybe we should wait a few more hours, make sure the Christmas spirit’s really sunk in…”

“Jack!”

“Okay, hold your horses,” Jack says, laughing. “We’ll open presents, just give me a second to grab them.”

He takes a step, then reconsiders. “Hey, close your eyes,” Jack instructs. “Shut ‘em really tight, okay? Peekers don’t get presents.”

Jack waits for them both to cover their eyes, then lifts up on his toes and grabs the boxes from where he’d tucked them into the cabinets above the refrigerator. He pushes Tony and Charlie’s empty plates to the corner of the table, safely out of the way, then places a present in front of each of them. “Okay, go ahead.”

Eyes fly open, then twin gasps of excitement.

The presents are pretty underwhelming to look at, just objectively speaking, if Jack’s being honest. Two boxes wrapped as neatly as Jack could manage in old newspaper—it took several Sundays worth of papers to get enough ‘Comics’ pages to cover both of them—and taped at the corners. But Tony and Charlie seem happy enough with Jack’s mediocre attempts at wrapping and really, it don’t matter what the outsides look like as long as they enjoy what’s inside, right?

Charlie blinks up at him with big, awestruck eyes while Tony shakes his box back and forth, giggling when he hears the contents rattle around inside. “What are ya waitin’ for?” Jack asks, waving a hand. “Go on, open ‘em up!”

Scraps of paper fly in every direction as the boys tear into their gifts.

“Oh, wow!” Tony exclaims, unearthing a toy racetrack and a set of cars from it’s packaging. “This looks like the one on the TV! It’s got the cars and the track with the loop-de-loop and—”

“Thomas the Tank Engine!” Charlie screeches, practically vibrating in excitement. “Jack, Jack, it’s Thomas the Tank Engine—”

“—and the cars have the little lightning bolts on the sides! Look, Jack, look at the lightning bolts! Ooh, and it even—”

“—and he talks! Jack, didja hear? Listen, Thomas talks, you just hit the button and—”

“—stickers! Jack, didja see the stickers? Look you can put ‘em anywhere you want—”

“—it makes the noise too! Listen, listen! Jack are you listening? See, there’s a switch—”

Jack’s grin feels like it’s all but splitting his face apart. He’s been more than a little nervous the last few months trying to work everything out, worrying about what toys to get the boys, sneaking singles and bits of change out of Snyder’s booze fund on top of setting aside his own portion of the grocery money this month to pay for them, swinging by the dollar store at peak hours one Sunday and using the crowds to hide the AAA batteries stuffed into his pockets, and finding time to wrap and hide both presents. So to see his brothers so completely overjoyed… the anxious flutter in his stomach soothes and settles.

“So I guess you like the toys, huh?” Jack says when the flurry of chatter quiets down enough for him to get a word in. “Here, give me a sec to get the dishes taken care of an’ I’ll help you get it all open and set up—”

“Jack?” Tony asks, his voice suddenly taking on a strange tone, placing his toy gently on the table. The tiniest hint of a frown is starting to form between his eyes. “Did… Did Santa bring us anything for Christmas?”

Jack freezes. “Santa?”

“He did, right?” Tony says, his eyes bright with fragile hope. Charlie perks up at the mention of Santa, turning to look at Jack as well, and there’s so much trust in his expression. So much faith. Jack feels like the floor has fallen out from underneath him. “‘Cause I was really good this year. Charlie was too. So he musta left presents, right?”

Tony looks around, then seems to realize that there aren’t extra-special Santa presents hidden in any nooks and crannies.

“Well, I thought we was really good. I thought….” Tony’s expression dims. “But, Mr. S says lazy, ungrateful, good-for-nothins don’t get presents from Santa, so I guess—”

“No!” Jack blurts, unable to watch Tony’s face fall any further. “No, Santa did come by, baby, and he left somethin’ extra special for you both. Even better than presents.”

“Better than presents?” Charlie asks, caught somewhere between disbelief and wonder. “What is it?”

“It’s… Well, ya see, it’s... “ Jack’s mind races, fueled by an explosive mixture of buzzing adrenaline, icy panic, and a fundamental need to fix. “Last night, while youse were asleep, I was up gettin’ a drink and I saw Santa.”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “You saw Santa?” he gasps.

“I sure did,” Jack says, nodding sagely, making it all up on the spot. “And you what else? Santa gave me a message.”

“A message from Santa?” Charlie squeaks.

“That’s right,” Jack says. “Santa wanted me to tell you that he’s been keepin’ a close eye on you both an’ that he’s real proud of how good you’ve been all year. He said that you’re right at tippity tip-top of the nice list and that Snyder is just jealous ‘cause he’s got a permanent spot on the naughty list for bein’ a mean old grouch.”

This earns a flurry of giggles. “What else?” Tony demands. “What else did Santa say?”

“Santa said that, since you and Charlie were so good this year, he wanted to give you something extra super secret and special. Something that only the two of you get to have, out of all the kids in the whole, entire world," Jack says, keeping his voice in a dramatic hush.

“What is it?” Charlie asks, and he’s whispering too, thoroughly caught up in the story. “Jack, what is it?”

“Santa gave you…” Jack pauses for effect. "Permission to break the rules.”

Jack gets a pair of blank stares in response. He hurriedly continues, “See, ‘cause other kids have to be on their best behavior on Christmas day: they gotta put on their itchy sweaters and, and their collared shirts and pose for a million photos until their faces feel like they’re gonna fall off. And they got to sit at the table and eat dinner all polite like while the grown ups tell boring stories about taxes and stuff. ‘Cause that’s what Christmas is supposed to be like, when you have to follow the rules.”

“But, see, for us? We gets to be rulebreakers,” Jack explains. “Santa himself said so! So that means we’s gonna stay in our pajamas all day, and watch movies on the TV and eat cookies and chips and, and just do whatever we want to. We don’t have to do any chores, don’t have to clean up at all for the whole day!”

There's another pair of excited gasps, Tony and Charlie both starting to respond to the narrative Jack’s spinning. “I’ll get your toys set up for you and you can play with ‘em as long as you want, as loud as you want—Snyder ain’t here!”

And then it hits Jack, something he can do for the boys that’s special, using the limited items at his disposal. “And the first thing we’re gonna do is make a Christmas pillow fort.”

“What’s a Christmas pillow fort?” Tony asks eagerly.

“It’s like a regular pillow fort but even better, ‘cause it gets to stay up all day and all night and it’s giant—we’ll have to push the couch outta the way, that’s how big it’s gonna be—and ‘cause you only get to have one if Santa himself gives you permission,” Jack says. “Which is very hard to come by, 'cause Christmas pillow forts are a trade secret, ya know? Very hush-hush.”

“We can keep a secret!” Tony promises. “Right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, it’sa secret!” Charlie agrees, miming locking his lips and throwing away the key.

“First things first, we gotta gather our fort making supplies,” Jack says, relieved that this makeshift plan seems to be working. “Tony, you’re gonna grab all the blankets and sheets off our beds, okay? And Charlie, you’re gonna get all the pillows and stack ‘em up for me, okay?”

The boys race away to do as instructed, talking and giggling as they go. Jack uses the brief reprieve to let out a sigh of relief, then starts pushing furniture out of the way to clear a large space in the middle of the living room floor: smack dab in front of the TV and close, but not too close, to the radiator. He turns the couch to face the other way, thinking that they can use the back of it to hold the fort up, then snatches up all the couch cushions and places them to the side.

He squeezes past Charlie and Tony in the hallway—Charlie’s got two pillows tucked beneath his arm, another two looped through the spaces in his crutch, and you can just barely see Tony’s head from underneath the mountain of bedding he’s carrying, the tail end of a sheet dragging along the floor behind him. Jack eases his mattress off its bedframe and lugs it into the living room, going back twice more for Tony and Charlie’s mattresses. Then, they get to work constructing their fort.

Tony and Charlie can only help so much since they’re just munchkins, but they seem to get a kick out of telling Jack how drape the sheets just exactly right , deciding where all the pillows should go, and testing out if they want to sit on the mattresses or use them as fort walls. Jack finishes the whole thing off with a box of string lights he’d picked up back before he realized that Snyder wasn’t gonna let them have a Christmas tree, and it all looks… nice. Really nice, actually, all cozy and festive and fun.

“Great job boys,” Jack praises, giving Tony and Charlie a round of high-fives. “And now, the snacks!”

They’ve got two family sized bags of doritos and an unopened box of oreos with the red holiday filling in the pantry. He lets Tony carry their glasses over to the designated ‘Drink Spot’ Jack created to help prevent spills—”One at a time, Tones,” Jack reminds him—and soon enough they’re all pilling into their first ever Christmas Pillow Fort.

It’s a little snug, but in the best possible way. Jack’s got a kid on each side of him, one tucked under each arm, sharing blankets and food and laughs. Charlie finds them a rerun of the original, animated, ‘Dr. Seuss’, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!’ to watch, Thomas the Tank Engine perched in a place of honor next to him, while Jack helps Tony get his racetrack set up and running.

Jack already knows he’s gonna have a hell of a time getting all the crumbs swept up later and it looks like tomorrow’s gonna have to be a laundry day, now that all the linens are dirty, but he lets all of those worries go for now, just trying to relax and enjoy the holiday. Because it’s Christmas, and Tony and Charlie deserve to have the best day Jack can give them. As long as they’re happy… it’s all worth it.

“Merry Christmas, guys,” Jack says.

“Merry Christmas, Jack!” his brothers chirp back.

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Chapter two here.

Tag List: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside

#newsies #*the writing desk #*editor's note #*final cut #the domestic au

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jjoutermaybanks · 5 years ago

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Electric Love || JJ Maybank x Reader

part one part two part three

summary: you’re the newest member of the pogues, a girl living with one foot in the rich life and one foot in the risky life. you fit right in with the crew, especially the charismatic, annoyingly attractive JJ. how will a drunken night of deep conversation and a dreaded summer party change your friendship forever?

word count: 4k

warnings: reference to abuse, flirting and fluff

*not my gif, credit to owner*

PART ONE

The Wreck was buzzing with activity. Your shift was nearly over, but the number of diners had yet to start shrinking, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Kiara, your best friend and coworker, hurried from table to table trying to keep up with the mid-afternoon rush. Plates of steaming food were piled high on your tray as you wove around the tables, depositing drinks and appetizers with ease. Although you’d only been working there for the month of June, you’d slid right in and picked up all the right skills to be a prized employee. Kiara met your encouraging gaze across the room and smiled, throwing a thumbs up. She was probably thinking about the plans you two had with the guys after work; in a matter of minutes, John B, Pope, and JJ would burst through the doors and raise hell in the small restaurant. You couldn’t wait.

Despite the short amount of time you’d been in the Outer Banks, you loved every second of it. You and your mom made the move pretty suddenly, and you were worried you’d spend the summer friendless and wandering around the island alone. But within a week, you’d noticed a certain group of misfits always parading around causing chaos. For a few days you shadowed them, fascinated by the adventures they went on. And then one day, the loud-mouthed blonde one spotted you sitting alone at a beachside bench and demanded you join them on their latest expedition. Later you learned his name was JJ, and you owed him everything because he introduced you to a life of exhilaration.

Now, weeks later and after many perilous antics, you were just another Pogue. You gossiped with Sarah, joked with John B. and Pope, ranted with Kiara, and flirted with JJ. He was just so damn charming, and his smile made you roll your eyes as much as blush. It was all friendly banter of course, because of the no Pogue-on-Pogue macking rule. However, Sarah and John B. sort of complicated that now, and even Pope and Kiara were crossing some lines. No one had offered to change or eliminate the rule, so everything was sort of in limbo. You knew not to push things with JJ though, since you wanted to preserve the friendship. The last thing you wanted was to ruin things and have to spend the summer alone again.

Time was ticking, and in a few short minutes you’d technically be free to go. But upon seeing Kiara’s overwhelmed expression as she approached, you knew it would be more than a few minutes.

“Dad wants us to stick around till the crowd lessens,” she explained with a pout. “The only thing is it’ll take hours for this crowd to disappear.” She gestured to the overly full dining room, and you groaned.

“Aren’t there people coming to take over our shifts? We have plans.” You had been anticipating the day for a week now; after work, a quick trip of delivering groceries would help you unwind before the party the Pogues were throwing on the beach. It would be your first real Pogue party, and you couldn’t wait to meet more kids from The Cut and even some snobs from Kookville. Despite not living in The Cut and having a bit more money than your friends, you didn’t consider yourself anything close to a Kook. Your mom might have been trying to get in with the rich crowd, but you were more than satisfied with your band of misfits.

“Yeah, but you know we’re the only capable waitresses who work here,” Kiara joked, and you chuckled. She was right; you two always got the most tips and the most tables turned in the shortest time. You were the dream team of The Wreck, so if anyone could deal with this crowd it was you two.

The next ten minutes you both hustled to get as much done as possible; you were practically running to give people their bills so they’d be out the door. And this speedy method actually worked; enough tables cleared that you could take a breather.

All of a sudden, a familiar chorus of voices sounded behind you. Whirling around, you grinned as you spotted your best friends marching into the dining area, already chanting and laughing and annoying the customers. This was their best tactic since it forced Kiara’s dad to let you two leave. Once you left, the obnoxious teenage boys would be out of his hair. It was a win-win.

“Y/N!” JJ called, blue eyes sparking with mischief as he swung his body around the tables to stand beside you. His beachy blonde hair was pushed off his forehead and blowing in the warm breeze, his tanned skin shining with slight sweat. “I almost forgot how good you look in that apron,” he commented, whistling approvingly as you smacked his arm and smiled.

“No hitting on me while I’m on duty,” you scolded him, suppressing a laugh as he mocked you for saying duty. You practically had to shove him away in order to finish your shift, but his infectious energy caused a wide grin to stretch across your lips all the same.

“Some time today, Kie,” John B. whined, drumming his hands on the tabletop for effect. “So much to do, so little time.”

Kiara snorted, pouring fresh lemonade into a few glasses. “The party doesn’t start till sundown, and besides Pope doesn’t have that many groceries to deliver.”

Pope shrugged, admitting she was right. “But still, wouldn’t you rather waste the day on the water than in here?”

Kiara frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’re right,” she grumbled. Her brown eyes peered around the corner for her dad, spotting him and pasting on the sweetest smile she could muster. “Alright Dad, that’s it! Me and Y/N are outta here!”

Before he could protest, you both tore off your aprons and threw them onto the counter, sprinting out of the restaurant as fast as you could. It was only a short run to the docks where the trusty HMS Pogue was waiting for your arrival. As you ran, you felt Pope, Kie, and John B. hot on your heels with JJ closer to your side. You liked to brag that you were by far the fastest Pogue, and quite a few sprints had proved that point. JJ still liked to challenge you though, and today was no different. As he tried to keep up with you, you laughed and tilted your face to the sun, letting your long hair out of the messy bun you kept it in for work. As the long waves of sun-bleached hair fell on your shoulders, blown back by the wind as you ran, JJ faltered his step and began to lag behind.

“Ha!” you yelled triumphantly, fist pumping. “Slow-pokes!” You were the first one to reach the dock, breathing hard but satisfied with the exhilarating run. JJ was second, and he hunched over his knees, panting.

“Damn you, Y/L/N,” he wheezed, shooting you a toothy grin. “Caught me off guard with that sexy hair flip.”

You laughed and pushed at his shoulder. “In your dreams, Pogue.” You glanced over and saw Sarah jogging over to join you, stopping first to kiss John B. of course. You wrinkled your nose at their PDA, but also felt a pang of jealousy. They were crazy in love, it was hard not to envy them.

JJ caught you staring and elbowed you. “Could be us, you know,” he prompted, a suggestive smirk on his lips. “You’re missing out big time.”

You were about to sock him on the chest when Pope forced himself between you two to get on the boat.

“Alright guys, we actually have a job to do now. My dad’s probably waiting for us.” You gave JJ a warning expression and mouthed I’ll get you later before climbing onto the boat. John B. took the wheel with Sarah at his side, and Pope and Kiara sat next to each other by the front. JJ whipped his shirt off and sprawled out on the back floor, arms flexed behind his head as he soaked up the hot sun. You sat beside him, legs swinging as you felt the spray of water when the boat took off. The lazy sun, the warm water...you were absolutely in love with the Outer Banks.

The group chattered endlessly for the whole ride, never ceasing even when Pope went to collect the groceries for the day. JJ attempted to show off with a hacky sack, but ended up kicking it into the water.

“No no no no!” he wailed, arms waving wildly. “John B., you gotta stop bro! Man overboard!” Slowly, the boat came to a halt in the water, and everyone laughed as JJ pretended to freak out. “I can’t see her anymore! Oh my god, I loved that sack!”

You scoffed, standing up and discarding your shirt. You had spotted the hacky sack floating just a few meters back “Relax, JJ, you’ll survive.” You then took off your shorts, left only in a bathing suit, before stepping onto the side of the boat and swiftly diving into the water. You broke through the surface and were immersed into refreshing water. Coming up for air, you turned back to the boat and saw JJ leaning over the side of the boat, gaping at your bold action.

“Hey! Now we have two men overboard!” he called, and you giggled as you kicked your legs to stay afloat. Spotting the hacky sack, you dove back under and swam over to it, snatching it up and waving it in the air.

“She’s a hero, ladies and gentlemen!” Sarah announced with a grin. You pretended to bow and accept the congratulations before swimming back to the boat, pausing before grabbing JJ’s extended hand. He only needed to use one arm to pull you up effortlessly, landing you sitting off the side and smiling breathlessly before tossing him his beloved hacky sack.

“You’re welcome, you big baby,” you chuckled, gasping when he suddenly gave you a big hug. Your dripping body pressed against his bare torso, and you smiled into his shoulder as he squeezed you tight.

“How can I ever repay you?” he said dramatically, leaning back to meet your eyes. “I might just give you a kiss I love you so much right now.” As his face neared yours you quickly pushed it away with your hand, giggling as he let out a whooshing breath of disappointment.

“Not today, slick.” Swinging your legs over onto the floor, you flipped your hair and ran your hands through the damp strands already drying from the sun. The rest of the groceries were delivered without a hitch, and soon enough it was evening and the sun was beginning to set. After docking the boat, the group gathered in a circle to discuss the plan.

“Meet back here at 8,” John B. instructed. “We’ll bring all the coolers and cups out onto the beach. Then it’s party time.”

JJ let out a whoop, and everyone else broke into excited grins. You especially were beyond excited, and couldn’t wait to get ready with Kiara and Sarah. The three of you had of course planned outfits in advance, getting advice from each other before deciding. Everything was ready and waiting at Sarah’s, and as the group split up you three practically ran back to her house.

With music blasting in her room and clothes strewn about the floor, you began to get ready. Makeup was always minimal since you never knew when you’d be swimming, so just some moisturizer and an eyelash curl was all you needed. You loved the sun-kissed, beachy vibe your tanned skin and curled hair was giving off. You looked like a fun, adventurous girl who lived a carefree life. It was a welcome change from your usual appearance.

“Pope was totally checking me out, right?” Kiara wondered aloud, fiddling with a hair tie as she attempted a half-up hairstyle. “I mean, I know I looked good, but did he notice?”

“Totally,” Sarah confirmed, plucking at a few stray hairs in her eyebrows. “He’d be an idiot not to be into you, Kie. And JJ was definitely going crazy over your little dive, Y/N.” Sarah’s suggestive expression made you throw a pillow in her direction, laughing.

“No way,” you refuted. “No Pogue-on-Pogue macking, remember?”

The two girls snorted. “Uh, hello, Y/N,” Sarah said. “Me and John B. do a lot more than macking, you know.”

Pretending to be grossed out, you feigned a shudder. “Ew, absolutely not. JJ’s my friend, I’d hate to ruin things by trying to be something more.”

Kiara frowned, finished with her hair and now leaning against the wall. “That’s how I feel about Pope. But I don’t want to be just friends anymore.”

Sarah stood up from her desk, fully dressed and primped for the party. “I say go for it, Kie. You only live once.” She checked herself out in the mirror, nodding approvingly. “Ladies, we outdid ourselves tonight.”

The three of you looked good, you had to admit. Even in the dark people would be watching you all, checking out the hot Pogues who totally overshadowed the stuck-up Kook princesses. You could just see JJ’s jaw dropped when you got to the beach, and resisted rolling your eyes even now.

It was a short walk back to the beach, and by the time you got there it was pitch black. No one had really arrived yet other than the Pogues and a few stragglers from The Cut. The Kooks were always fashionably late, and it was only a matter of time before the walking Hollister models arrived.

Pope, John B., and JJ were pouring drinks into red cups and passing them around, and you accepted a cup with a grin. Getting drunk was fun, and you loved the way you felt when tipsy. Like you were lighter than air, and the world had a bubbly, gold-tinted glow. Downing the first cup too quickly, you choked a little at the end and rubbed at your chin, flushing in slight embarrassment. JJ raised his eyebrows and handed you another full cup, catching your eye and smiling.

Soon, the party was in full swing. Kooks and Cut kids alike swarmed the sand, downing alcohol and dancing around half-drunk. Sarah mingled with a few Kooks, dragging John B. with her despite his less than thrilled expression. Pope and Kiara were of course together, debating some meaningless topic while trying to keep the stupid grins off their faces. JJ was manning the drinks, hat twisted backwards like he always did to keep his hair off his face. You were a few drinks in, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. You’d always been a light-weight, and after one more drink you’d be fully drunk.

It didn’t take long to reach this point, and then you were stumbling across the sand towards JJ, calling his name in a slurred voice as you sloshed your half-filled cup.

“JJ! JJ! Heyyy.” You grabbed his arm when you reached him, stumbling a little as you lost your balance. He reached out to steady you, and you giggled ridiculously. “Can I have more?” you slurred, still swaying on your feet. “I wanna taste the clouds.”

JJ smiled, taking your cup from you and setting it down. “I don’t think so, princess. One more drink and you’d be on another planet.”

“Ooh! Which one? Mars? I always liked Jupiter.” Attempting to grab your cup off the sand, you felt yourself falling and scrambled to stay up. Luckily JJ’s strong arms grabbed you before you face-planted, and you laughed into his chest. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m an...unbalanced drunk.”

He grinned, nodding at your explanation. “Makes sense. How are you liking your first beach party, anyway?”

“It’s so fun!” you said too loudly. “Everyone is so nice, even the snobs that Sarah introduced me to. If they loosened their buttons a little I think they’d be tolerable.” JJ laughed at your drunken retelling, taking a swig of beer. He looked a bit drunk himself, but way less than you. JJ knew how to handle his alcohol, whereas you were a stuttering, stumbling mess.

A thought crossed your mind, and you tapped him repeatedly on the chest. “JJ, JJ, JJ,” you repeated, until he grabbed your hand and exclaimed, “What?!”

“You know what would make this even better?” you asked, meeting his shining blue eyes. “A swim.”

Immediately he snorted at your proposition, crossing his arms. “Right now? It’s pitch-black out and the water’s probably cold.”

You shrugged your shoulders, unaffected by his protest. “So what? The surf looks so calm and serene, I just want to float, you know?” Without waiting for his answer, you whipped your shirt off and unbuttoned your shirts.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” JJ said, putting his hands up. “What is it with you and random stripping? Not that I’m complaining, but--”

Pulling your shorts off and standing only in your bathing suit, you put your hands on your hips and pretended to pout. The sight made JJ’s eyes flash, and he licked his lips.

“Look, I’m swimming. Join me if you want.” Before the last word left your lips JJ had practically torn off his shirt and kicked off his boots. His shorts hung low on his hips, and in the moonlight his defined abs shone like chiseled marble. Biting your lip, you turned quickly and skipped down the shore.

Dark black waves lapped gently at the sand, and when you dipped a toe in you felt the cold temperature and flinched. But a little cold wouldn’t stop you, and as JJ came up behind you you began wading into the water.

“Holy shit!” JJ exclaimed, the sound of splashing indicating he had jumped upon contact with the frigid water. “You really want to cross hypothermia off your bucket list?”

“Just for a few minutes,” you swore, heading deeper and deeper until the water reached your shoulders. It was definitely cold, and froze the blood in your veins until your heart thumped in your chest. But it was also weirdly exhilarating, and you let out a crazed laugh before dunking your head fully under the water.

“You’re absolutely crazy!” JJ cried, shivering visibly as he tried to keep up with you. Since he was taller less of him was submerged, so you splashed water at his exposed chest. “Hey!” he protested, but there was a grin on his face. You leaned back to float, spreading your arms out as you gazed at the star-filled night sky.

“Isn’t this so beautiful?” you murmured, treading water softly to stay afloat. JJ followed your gaze to the sky, expression unconvinced before glancing back at you.

“You’re so drunk, anything would be beautiful.” As he said this, his eyes glazed over slightly as they traced your face. Not noticing, you sighed blissfully.

A few minutes of silence passed, before JJ spoke. “Alright, Y/N, truth time. I hardly know anything about you and we’re damn near best friends.”

You frowned. “You know plenty about me, what are you talking about?”

He rolled his eyes. “I know stupid things, like you prefer sunrises over sunsets, you hate every kind of seafood except shrimp, and your favorite color is orange. I want to know the deep stuff.” He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

You furrowed your brows. “When did I tell you my favorite color?”

“You didn’t, or at least not specifically. One morning you dragged us out to the beach at like, 5 am in the morning just so we could see the sunrise. When the sun had just broken over the water, you pointed to the clouds and said that that was your favorite color in the whole world, that muted, pale orange.”

If you weren’t so drunk JJ’s words would’ve touched your heart. They were so personal, and no one had ever paid attention to you like that before. But because the alcohol made your brain fuzzy, you just laughed and nodded. “That was a good day.”

A gentle splash hit your face, and JJ said, “Come on, this is a safe space. Open up to your best friend JJ.”

“Fine,” you countered, wondering where to start. You knew the only reason you were opening up was because of how drunk you were. But you also knew it would be nice to actually tell someone about yourself, after keeping it bottled up for so long. “Well, you know I live with my mom. I don’t have a dad.” You paused, but JJ was silent. “Well, I have a dad, obviously, child-making process and all that. But he left when I was nine.” You said the words simply, matter-of-factly. Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about your dad in a long time. “Which actually kind of sucks. That he left when I was nine, I mean. When you’re really young and your dad leaves, it’s fine because you can’t remember him. But I knew my dad. He was the guy that made really good waffles on Sundays and picked me up from school sometimes. So when he left...well, I couldn’t just act like he never existed.”

JJ’s only reaction was to blink slowly, gaze trained on your face. His normal light-hearted smirk was softened slightly into a more serious expression.

His comforting gaze made you feel like you could say anything right now, so you continued. “Anyway, my mom never really got over it. I think she wishes she could’ve gone after him, chased after the love of her life, you know? But because she had me to deal with, she couldn’t. I feel like she hates me a little bit.”

"No way, she can’t hate you,” JJ responded firmly.

“How do you know?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but JJ answered anyway.

“Because it’s impossible for anyone to hate you.” You were lightly stunned at his honest reply, and faltered a bit in the water. But he said nothing more to ease the sudden tension, making your mouth dry up.

Uncomfortable with the silence, you joked, “So how’s that for opening up, huh best friend?”

This brought a big smile to his lips, and he looked at you closely before saying, “Wonderful job. I feel closer to you than ever.”

Smiling, you still weren’t thinking straight you were so drunk. Stupidly, you said, “Hey, I guess we have more in common than I thought; we both have daddy issues!”

You knew it was the wrong thing to say when his smile immediately dropped. JJ’s dad was a sore subject that he hardly ever brought up. You knew the basics that Kiara had filled you in on; that his dad hit him, oftentimes a lot more than just a simple punch. You knew whenever you saw JJ with a busted lip or black eye that it was his old man’s doing. This joke was insensitive and way too overbearing, and you regretted it as soon as you said it.

But JJ didn’t make you feel bad for it, instead plastered on a smile and nodded. “Got that right, Y/L/N.” You swam in the water for a few more minutes, until you announced even you were getting a little chilly, and you made your way back to shore.

Teeth chattering, you hugged yourself tightly as you rejoined the group. Thankfully there were a few blankets that JJ and you gladly wrapped around yourselves, slowly warming up after the frigid swim.

“Having fun, Y/N?” John B. asked as he walked over to you. You nodded, accepting the drink he offered you even though you knew you didn’t need it. Anything to dull the awkwardness that just happened with JJ. Taking a huge sip of the alcohol, you felt it burn down your throat.

“This girl is crazy,” JJ announced. “Thinks swimming at this hour is fun.”

John B. grinned, giving you a high-five. “You make JJ seem like a stick in the mud, Y/N! Way to go.”

You smiled, and felt JJ’s eyes on you as he scoffed in mock offense. You met his gaze, and he was watching you with a challenging expression. But there was also something else there, something you usually pushed him away for. Tonight, though, with too much alcohol in your system and your guard completely down, you wouldn’t be opposed to a little Pogue-on-Pogue macking for once.

#outer banks #obx #pope outer banks #pope obx #john b #john b outer banks #john b obx #kiara outer banks #kiara obx #sarah outer banks #sarah obx #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj one shot #jj mayback x reader #jj smut

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lizzy-williams · 4 years ago

Text

𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2

🔥Warnings: slight angst, drug references, drug dealing, language.

🦎Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tC-FOXioDo

In Your Arms by Sunbeam Sound Machine

((He do be vibin tho))

masterlist

𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘈𝘋 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 taking care of Newt for weeks now after he was released from the burn unit, his burns getting better slowly, soon enough turning into scars. You took over his drug dealings, partly because Newt didn’t have the strength, but mostly because he didn’t want to scare away customers from the product.

But there was something that Newt insisted on having. He wanted to have the apartment as hot as hell, heaters in every corner of his place. Without the heaters, he would say he was freezing, and it would bother him enough to where he wouldn’t sleep.

You were getting used to the intense heat that went through Newt’s apartment. He was excited about it, mainly because it was an excuse for you to wear less clothing.

You were usually the one to tend his wounds, and take care of him. You ended up just living with him.

Finally, after 4 long weeks of restless nights and illegal transactions, he was finally fully healed, the burns and blisters turning into smoothed over scars. But he looked similar to two-face from batman.

But even after he was healed, he insisted on keeping the heaters on, and you didn’t mind. What happened to him would most likely cause PTSD, so whatever made him comfortable was fine with you.

You pulled up to the apartment building, people outside enjoying the nice weather. It was an especially warm day in Woodmere, Louisiana that day. You waved to a few people that waved your way as you brought the groceries up the stairs. Of course, it was nothing substantial.

Cups of noodles, hot chocolate, waffle mix, anything and everything warm or served hot. That’s what he liked. But it was also nice for you to also get out, so you didn’t get heatstroke, but your body was slowly getting more used to it.

You walked to the door, the black one with a white painting of a newt on it, giving the secret knock. Seconds later the door opened, stopped by the chain lock. As you caught a glimpse of his face, his eyes went soft. The door closed and was reopened.

“Anyone follow you?” he asked, the heat brushing over your body like a hairdryer as I entered.

He looked out the doorframe, closing the door once again, locking every lock. You went into the kitchen, setting the bags down, Newt follows, the red silhouettes, and shadows covering the area.

“Heard from your cousin lately?” you asked, knowing he followed you.

“Yeah, I gave her some more product. She’s got some good connections.” he leaned up against the kitchen’s doorframe.

“That’s good,” you smiled, putting the groceries away, “How you feelin’?” you asked, looking back at him.

“Good. But I would be better if you stayed here for the rest of the night,” he sighed.

“Newt, honey, you know that I gotta go into work today,”

“But it’s not like you need the money,” he objected, walking closer to you, now leaning against the counter.

“I know...,” you thought about it. You really didn’t need to. He was right, “I guess I could just...,” you turned to him, your body inches from his, “Call in sick...” as he smiled at your words.

“Give me a kiss...,” he muttered, pulling you closer, his arms pulling you by your waist closer to him.

You were only recently starting to kiss him again, but the burns didn’t bother you. You were happy to be able to touch him... love him, be close to him. Hell, even sleep in the same bed.

“Mario Kart?”

“Hell yes,” you responded, dragging him to the couch.

******

After you played Mario Kart, you ended up watching a few movies. You eventually ended up laying together on the couch, his arms wrapped around you from behind you as you heard him dozing off.

You shifted more towards him. You missed this. Being able to touch him, kiss him. You also loved getting closer with Robin, you two actually spent more time together.

You did research while he was recovering, and actually found out what was going on, and the technical name for what happened with Newt... what his “superpower” was. Spontaneous combustion. Otherwise known as extreme heat thermoregulation.

You couldn’t explain it. But you wouldn’t dare go to anyone professional. He would test on him, and then you’d never see him again. And you didn’t think you could bare that.

“Newt? You still up?” you muttered.

After a few seconds without a response, you sighed, picking up his scarred hand, tracing over the bumps and cracks of the scars. Normally with third-degree burns all over the body, it would take close to a lifetime to heal all the burns. But at least the pull kinda saved him from that. And you were somewhat thankful.

But you couldn’t help but want to try it for yourself... what was your power? Newt said it himself... everyone was different. But after he got burned, he also told you one of the deadly side effects... which was that one hit would kill you. But on the other hand... superpowers.

You slowly got up, doing your best not to wake your boyfriend as you did. You were never really one to try the product. You only ever did weed. Heavy drugs were a no-go. Were these pills really drugs though? There were no laws against them yet, and yes they were lethal, but so are knives, and they weren’t illegal because everyone has some in their home.

You went into the back room, jumping over the large hole in the middle of the floor. You opened the door to the backdoor, making eye contact with the freezer. That’s where we kept the pills that were for you two, just in case something went wrong.

You took a frozen pizza box, shaking a case of the pill into your hand, putting the box back in the freezer, closing it. You opened the case, taking the pill between your fingers, looking at it.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” you joked to nobody but yourself.

You twisted it, flinching back as you did. Your nerves were racing. It was like the first time you were about to smoke weed. You were about to be introduced to a whole new way to look at things.

You took a deep breath in, putting it between your teeth. Here we go.

“STOP!” you heard Newt yell from the end of the hallway, making direct eye contact with you, “Don’t fucking move.”

Now or never.

You suddenly downed it, the feeling of the pill going down your throat making you shiver as Newt raced towards you.

You began to twitch and convulse just like Newt did when he took Power. You felt your insides burn and clench, the most mind-splitting headache you had ever had take over your brain.

“FUCK!” You yelled out in pain.

But soon the pain died down to a dull ache as your head started to fill with words that weren’t your own.

“Fuck, what did it do to her,” you heard Newt’s voice say and you looked over, shocked to find that his lips weren’t moving.

“What?”

“Fuck, I can’t tell what her power is... at least she didn’t die. Thank fuck, I couldn’t stand losing her” you watched in awe.

You were telekinetic.

“Babe... I can hear you...”

“I didn’t say anything...?”

“No, no,” you muttered, walking over to him, putting your hands on his face, “I can hear you...”

“What the fuck are you talking about, baby?”

“Think of something. Anything. Doesn’t matter what it is, just something.” you demanded, Newt skeptical but compliant.

“Weed. Robin. You.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet,” you commented.

“Holy shit, you read minds!!” he exclaimed, pulling you in, hugging you, “You’re gonna be okay!”

“Yeah, yeah I am,” you laughed.

“Thank fuck, thank fuck, thank fuck” he repeated in his head over and over and over.

“This could actually be... really useful,” he said, out loud, making you look up at him in confusion.

“How so?”

“Well, we’re drug dealers. It would be really useful to see what our customers are thinking. It would also be easier to tell a cop from a druggie. We could really use this...,”

“Alrighty then. Whatever you say, captain,”

******

You had been using the pills all week. And it was really starting to take a tole on your body. And the extreme heat that filled Newt’s apartment really wasn’t helping.

You were now planted on the couch, taking as much Advil as you could, taking just at the suggested dose.

“Hey, baby,” Newt said gently, bringing you a bowl of soup in the kitchen, setting it in your lap, “How you feelin?”

“Tired. Sick. Tired.” you grumbled after mumbling a ‘thank you’ for the soup.

“We can give you some of my leftover pain-killers? Maybe those would help your head calm down.”

At this point, you were willing to try anything just to get rid of the throbbing of your head. You nodded quietly, gently rubbing your temples. Newt leaned over and gave you a kiss on your bare shoulder (seeing as you only had a bra and underwear on due to the extreme heat) and stood up, most likely to get the drugs.

He soon returned, a glass full of water with ice and 2 pills, handing them to you. He then sat down on the couch with you, your body scooting over and placing a pillow on his lap before laying down your head, Newt beginning to watch the movie you had on for background noise, playing with your hair, gently gliding his hands over your scalp. His other hand was rubbing up and down your back, making you drowsy, the pain pills already starting to set in.

“I love you, Newt,” you muttered.

“I love you too, baby”

And with that, you began to fall asleep, comfortable in your lover’s arms.

((Ahhaha, I love writing Newt stuff, I’m obsessed with Project Power, go watch it so you can get some of the references I hid in both part 1 and 2. I’ll continue to make more stuff on him, blurbs, and stuff. Some will be connected to this fanfic, some will not.))

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fuckcanontbh · 5 years ago

Text

confessions in plain sight *stozier*

So this is for @ceftali in @stoziersecretsanta gift exchange! Sorry if this is late for you, but it is officially two hours into Christmas for me! This is my first time writing these characters so I apologize for any OOC-ness that happens. This is also my first contribution to the fandom, I hope you enjoy!

Note: bold lettering is Richie’s handwriting, words in [brackets] are actual song lyrics. Does contain swearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun beat down on the group, water dripped from their hair, and despite everything huge smiles were on everyone's faces as Mike told a story from the farm. Today was the first day of summer, so all of their backpacks crowded the space as well. Soon enough the group would be dry enough to get dressed and hang out in the club house until dinner time.

"Look, all I'm saying is that half of the problems in horror movies could be fixed if the characters weren't such idiots. I mean, really? If you see the murderer, why would you scream so he sees you?" Eddie's voice was the only noise as the group headed down into the club house. "Y-yeah. But you have to t-th-think that it's for dramatic e-effect. The character's can't always have a s-s-satis-satisfying ending." The group's leader argued further with Eddie, the two of them continuing their debate in a corner of the clubhouse.

"You're actually going to be starting school with us next year, Mike? Maybe now you'll actually believe us on how crazy school can be! All the stories we've told you about Richie and Bev are true, and Richie told me he's got some crazy stuff planned for our senior year!" Ben's excited voice came from another side of the clubhouse, Mike and Bev sitting in front of him on bean bags the group had added when winter made the ground too cold and hard to sit on comfortably. Stan watched all of this happen and then his eyes fell on Richie, who was unusually quiet as he sat in the hammock, reaching into his bookbag for something. "What are you looking for?" Richie jumped at Stan's voice, but quickly pulled a comic out of his bag. "Nothing but the newest X-Men comic, Stanny my boy, you'll never believe the kind of shit Storm cooks up this time!" Stan peered down at Richie, but the boy's grin seemed genuine so he shrugged and sat down, looking over Richie's shoulder. ~ "Alright, we'll see you tomorrow! Meeting at my house at four, right?" Beverly had already made her way up the ladder, but Ben was still waiting for an answer from Richie and Stan. "Haystack, you know I'll be there. Can't let your mom miss me too much!" Stan's hand reached out to smack Richie before he could stop it. "Tell everyone Richie has been uninvited." Ben simply laughed at their antics and shook his head as he climbed out into the little bit of sunlight left.

"We should probably head out soon, did you want to come over for dinner?" The blonde stood and brushed imaginary dust off his shirt and khakis. "Uh, hell yeah! Mrs. Uris makes the best food around here! Don't tell Ben I said that, his mom's cookies are good as hell." "Yeah, yeah. C'mon Trashmouth, I think mom is making meatballs and spaghetti squash." ~ Stan's house had been Richie Tozier free for about thirty minutes when Stan noticed Richie had left his bookbag next to his bed in his haste for dinner. The zipper was mostly undone and everything was one trip away from being all over Stan's floor. The boy rolled his eyes and bent down to zip it up when a small notebook caught his eyes. The book itself was simple on the outside, but it looked like a bunch of random things were also stuck into the book, making it thicker than it needed to be. It also looked like it was almost full, a slim part of the back of the notebook was still flat.

"Just leave it alone, Stan, it's none of your business." The boy brushed his teeth and put on his matching blue and white striped pajamas before climbing into bed. Minutes seemed to drag on forever before Stan stopped fighting himself and turned on his lamp before he grabbed the notebook. "It's probably just some dumb jokes Richie's thought of...or maybe some songs he's working on?" ~ 'Science HW due Thurs 28th' 'hang out after school @ quarry' '[Somewhere I'd never ever known, right at the back of my head, it hit me like a flashlight lighthouse beam of light]' ~ "Seems like it's just somewhere for him to put all his thoughts. Wonder who the song's about..." With the idea that the book was just a glance at Richie's mind as it worked a mile a minute, Stan continued reading. ~ 'Bev is the best!! girl offered me smokes even after i had to convince her skipping mrs. hepburns class was a good idea.' 'FUCK BOWERS' 'Math HW due Tues 4th' '[Cause you talk to me and it goes over my head...]' 'operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams walk her to class!! maybe walk her home sometimes? don't offer too much help bc bev hates that! write more of his sappy poems' 'gotta stop with the your mom jokes, not funny anymore' 'why is history so boring? REMINDER: ask ben to explain' 'start saving money-no more big spending at the arcade' ~ Stan scoffed at the thought of the curly haired boy giving up his favorite past time. "What's he even need to save money for anyway? He's already gotten that truck of his." ~ 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, wed, fri' 'do i have an "it" factor? don't wanna miss out on making my mark on the world.' 'i don't even think he knows he does it. soft little smile on his face when he gets to a difficult problem, who does he think he is???' 'ma and dad fought all last night again. big bill asked what was up but i didn't want to talk about it. comedy is a good distraction' 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, tues, wed, fri' 'glad i saved up some money, had to buy groceries again. ma's getting real bad again. haven't seen dad in a few days.' 'can't believe i got lucky enough to have such good friends. billy invited us all over for a horror movie marathon, ben and bev were put in charge of snacks. seems operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams is in motion. good for him! now if only i could get bill, mike, eddie, and stan lovers...' '[you've been on my mind boy girl since the flood]' 'ma passed out on the couch last night, guess it's a good thing i'm a lot bigger now. carried her to bed then went for a drive.' 'i swear he gets prettier the more i look at him' 'haystack just told me he scored a date!!!' 'HW due wed 18th' 'dad came home last night. got a good earful from him. maybe i should just stop talking? not like i got the nickname 'trashmouth' for something good. wonder if anyone would even notice' 'taught myself how to make chicken alfredo, actually got ma to eat with me.' 'i think i'm gonna tell him' 'nope. not gonna tell him. there's no way it would end good. out of all of our friends he's the least likely to want me' 'they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to love at all. but then it's 2 am and all you can think about is him, and you know he isn't thinking about you' ~ Stan snapped the book shut and quickly shoved it back into Richie's bag, thoughts flooding his mind. "Who is this boy Richie is crushing on? Is it Eddie? Eddie does yell at him a lot...and they have a bunch of classes together." "I didn't know things had gotten so bad at home. Mrs. Tozier used to be a saint.." "Is Richie okay?" He couldn't pin point why, but as he clicked his lamp off, Stan's chest hurt, but before a tear could escape his eyes he rolled over and pulled his covers up to his chin. ~ "Hey Rich, you left this at my house last night." Stan held the bag in-between them, his eyes refusing to meet Richie's, his chest still tight like the night before. "Stan the Man! My savior, got some important goods in here!" The blonde's eyebrows raised, finally looking at Richie's face just for the boy to look away quickly. "Can't lose my comic so soon now can I?"

"My mom made cookies!!" Ben walked into the living room, plate piled with chocolate chip cookies in his hands. "Ben Handsome, you are nothing if not the son of a saint, if you know what I mean." Richie dived for the plate, one cookie already in his mouth and three in his hands.

"Beep, beep, Richie!" Eddie scoffed and bumped the boy's shoulder, taking one cookie from Ben's plate. Stan watched as Richie's shoulders deflated, and the brunet ate his second cookie much slower. Before he could say anything Mike and Beverly's voices took everyone's attention towards the TV.

"We're not doing more horror movies, we did that like two weeks ago!" Beverly was swatting at the movies in Mike's hands, trying to reach across him to put her VHS into the VCR player. "She's not w-wr-wrong Mike. Let's just do the Disney marathon." At Bill's words Mike sighed and gave in, backing away from the TV so suddenly that Beverly fell forward slightly.

"Did you see that foul play my good man? Foul play I say!" Richie nudged Bill just to be shrugged off as the boy grabbed a cookie and moved to sit on the couch. ~ "I think I'm gonna go ahead and head home you guys. I'm getting one of those notorious Tozier headaches." Richie stood behind the couch as the credits to Bambi played, bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, bye Richie." "See ya, Trashmouth." "I think I'm gonna head out too, gotta help my mom clean up a bit before my aunt stays with us." "Dang, bye Stan." "Have fun with that Stan!" ~ "Hey Rich, think you can give me a ride?" The boy nodded and started his truck, hurriedly throwing a couple things behind the bench seat of his truck.

"Only the best for a prince, amiright?" If Stan didn't know better he'd say Richie's ears had gone a little pink. His truck started and he pulled out of Ben's driveway onto the road.

"Are you actually getting a headache Richie? Cause if not, I wanna talk.." His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter but Richie put on a smile and glanced at Stan.

"Always knew you could see through me. Don't know if we can have this conversation without your mother though, she wanted to be the one to break the news."

"Oh shut up asshole." Despite his words Stan felt himself smiling as Richie snickered.

"I just want to say I'm sorry first. Because I shouldn't have pried. But I thought it was just gonna be stupid stuff. Maybe some black mail material."

"Wait, you read my fucking journal? Stanley that's fucked dude! I would never do that to you. I can't believe you went through my bag. Guess straight cut Stan isn't as honest a man as I thought. Dude, what is your problem?"

A red light had stopped them, and Richie was able to look at Stan in the eye now, his brown eyes angry, but also coming off as slightly panicked.

"Look, I really didn't mean to get into your heavy shit. I thought it was just gonna be full of those little doodles you do in class and some new song lyrics. I didn't read too much of it Just a couple pages, maybe three tops! It's just got me worried about you."

"What did you read Stanley? Worried I'm sick? I can't really say I'm surprised." Brown eyes rolled and he clicked his tongue as he pulled forward.

"Sick? What- no. I'm worried about your mom and dad."

"You know that's none of your fucking business. We're just fine at the Tozier residence. Nothing has changed, Went works all the time and Ma takes care of the house. Don't start talking like you know anything about them. Get out of my car, Uris."

"Rich-"

"No, I said I'd give you a ride home, and here we are. The Uris residence. Go help your mom clean up and figure out how to stay out of other people's business."

Stan sighed and hung his head as he got out of the truck, only turning his head towards the street when Richie sped off, a cloud of smoke following him. ~ "Beverly, I really messed up the other day." "Sweetheart, Richie is known for the theatrics, don't let it get you down." "Yeah, Stan, that boy is like a rubber ball, he'll bounce back."

A shaky hand worked it's way through blonde curls, brown eyes bounced around the room, landing on Bev sitting in the window smoking, the radio sitting next to her turned down quiet enough for them to talk over, and Mike sitting criss cross on the bed.

"Stan, what even happened? I have never seen you this worried over some little fight with Richie."

"Look, I know it was wrong, but I accidentally read his very personal journal." Stan cringed as he said the words, already feeling Mike's eyes on him when Beverly whipped her head in his direction.

"How do you accidentally read someone's journal man?" "What did you read Stan?

Mike and Bev spoke at the same time, and Bev's cigarette was out before Stan could explain.

"Look, he's just got some shit going on at home, and he doesn't want to bother us with it...andIthinkhemighthaveacrushonEddie." "What was that last part?" "I think he mighthaveacrushonEddie." "Stan, breathe sweetheart we aren't gonna yell at you." "I think he might have a crush on Eddie and I'm not sure why I'm upset about it."

Mike and Bev shared a knowing look over Stan's down tilt head, Bev's eyebrows raised in a silent question that Mike answered with a nod.

"You may be one of the smartest most oblivious person I've met Stanley Uris." "You've had that boy wrapped around your finger since you became friends in second grade." "Guess you just didn't realize he had you around his finger as well."

Mike's words stung at first, but when Beverly pointed out who Richie's crush was, Stan's face lit up like a light. His cheeks dusted with pink as he met their eyes.

"You're being serious. Fuck, now I've really messed up. He thinks I hate him!" ~ "This is such a bad fucking idea. He hates you right now Stan." With a sigh the boy threw the first stone at the second floor window. It took three stones for Richie Tozier to open his window, and only one glance to see Stan before he was retreating again.

"Wait, Richie! Please, I just want to talk. Can we go for a ride?" Stan watched with bated breath as the shadow at the window hovered another moment before it retreated.

"Called that one."

And then Richie was climbing down the siding of his house.

"Be careful! Why didn't you use the front door dumbass?" All Stan got in response was an eye roll and a thumb pointing to the car in the drive way, Went was home.

"Oh." "Yeah, oh. Let's go. Been itching to go somewhere anyway." ~ The only sound in the truck was the two boys' breathing and a soft static from the radio. Stan swallowed air and watched as they passed the movie theatre.

"Look, I really am sorry. I just want you to talk to us more. You're acting like some shitty parenting is where we draw the line, have you completely forgotten that fucking clown?"

"I know. Sorry for being a brat the other day. I just don't like people to see that stuff, I have a reputation ya know? Comedian first, dumbass second, and softie never." Richie turned left, leading to the outskirts of town.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to ruin this perfect "class clown" persona you've got going on."

"Stanley Uris, did you just use air quotes to describe my entire personality to me?"

A chuckle escaped Richie and the truck air suddenly felt much lighter. "You're a lot more than that you know. You're more than some shitty but perfect timed your mom jokes. We keep you around for a lot more than a laugh." "What else am I good at Stan? All I do is mouth off and tell bad jokes." Brown curls came down from Richie's bun as he shook his head, leading the two of them past a sign asking visitors to come back to Derry.

"They may be bad jokes, but they still make us laugh. You're always the first one to put aside time for any of us, all we have to do is ask. And- stop shaking your head. Who took the time when we were all younger to listen to Eddie explain which of his inhalers were for what and how to administer them? Who learned how to cut hair just to help Bev save money and keep it trimmed? Who helped Mike shear the sheep when Spring started just so he could hang out with us sooner? Who practiced endless tongue twister with Bill to help with his stutter? Who did all that? Richie Tozier did. You give us everything and never expect anything back. All I wanna do is give back. God knows you deserve it."

"Hey now, don't bring the big man into this conversation." Despite the levity of what he was saying, Stan could hear the tears on the other boy's voice.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You just have such a big heart, and I think sometimes you don't know what to do with it...I saw the notes about a boy. You know we wouldn't judge you for that! Shit, none of us batted an eye when Big Bill came out as bisexual, so why would we care. You deserve to be happy, Rich. I just want you to be happy."

The more he spoke, the quieter Stan's voice became and the louder his blood rushed in his ears. Silence enveloped the truck again, and soon the tires came to a stop over a patch of grass.

"Did you mean all of that?"

Richie Tozier was not a small boy anymore, he was all long limbs of 6'2, and had developed a jawline sharp enough to cut a man, but right now, in the dim light of his dashboard, swallowed by a grey hoodie and hunched over, Richie Tozier reminded Stan of that scared boy in the sewers.

"Every last word. And I think you should know that a little birdie told me that I might be the inspiration for some of those lovely lyrics in your book..." Glasses nearly flew off Richie's face with how quickly he shot his head up, worried brown eyes magnified by the lenses.

"Bev, that bitch."

"I wouldn't say that quite yet. She pointed something else out to me too. She said I've had you wrapped around my finger since we met in second grade, but she also said that you've had me wrapped around your finger for a while now too. And I've got to say, she's right. Can't believe she knows me better than both of us. But yeah, Rich, you've had me wrapped around your finger since you told my mom at age six that she had better get used to you because you'd be around for a while."

Richie put the truck in park, unbuckled and shifted to be more in the middle of the truck, and the yellow of the radio highlighted the pink on his cheeks perfectly. "Stan...I don't really know what to say. Still can't believe she ratted me out like that."

"Say you're gonna let us in more. Say she was right. Say you want to give this a shot.”

"I want to give this a shot. I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since we were twelve." A warm hand gently took Stan's as he spoke, squeezing gently before he scooted just a bit closer.

"Slow down there Tozier, I've only just opened my eyes to the fact that you might be it for me, let me catch up before we start tossing the L word around. Buy me dinner first at least."

A genuine chuckle and Richie moved back to his seat, his hand still in Stan's. "How bout a late dinner at-", brown eyes glanced at the clock,"-nearly one a.m?" "Lead the way, Tozier. I'll be right with you."

#stozier #it #secret santa #this is my first contribution to the fandom #im so nervous rn #send help #thanks

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marklineson · 6 years ago

Text

Lost in a Loop (#02)

Kim Jongdae x Fem!Reader

You keep losing your memory every time you fall asleep. Is it possible for someone like you to live a normal life and experience a romance that lasts a lifetime?

Word Count: 5.1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst;

Title Track: To Reach You (Memory Control, PD48)

Warning: lots of occasional swearing bc idk, they’re all stupid kids and need help with their anger management (war of hormones, otl) & a bit of violence & drinking; also lots of cringey moments; -Rosy out;

#02 Enchanting.

- May 05th, 2018

“You're up late today, son.” Jongdae winced under the stern glance of his father, fastening his steps as he made his way through the living room, with the kitchen as his destination.

He had ended up falling asleep around 5 in the morning, and now, five hours of nightmares and uncomfortable twisting and turning later, he had decided to get up and call it a night. He was sure you had already gotten up, not remembering a letter of the conversation you'd had with him, but he was worried.

Why did she do that?, he constantly questioned himself as he poured himself the rest of the instant coffee his father had prepared for breakfast, Why did she ask me about my feelings? Is she interested in me? He felt a tiny spark of hope flare up behind his sternum, but then again it also could have just been the heat of the beverage in his cup.

He flipped the case of his phone aside and opened said conversation, shaking a bit when he saw your profile picture next to your name.

Do you love me?

I don't know, he kept whining in his head, How am I supposed to know? I'm eighteen years old, for fuck's sake. Frustrated, he slammed the phone shut again and sat down with a bowl of cereal in hand. I must have been out of my mind when I said yes- let her reread our conversation and she'll think I'm a creep. Shit.

As if on cue, his father stepped into the room the moment Jongdae hat put the last bit of milk in his mouth, spoon still hanging from his lips when the bowl was snatched away from him.

“Ey! Dad!”, he exclaimed, his father gifting him with another stern look.

“It's Saturday, Jongdae.”

“I wanted to at least eat some breakfast before I meet up with the guys and-”

“Didn't you promise me to help out today because you got home late yesterday?”

Ah, true. Detention had caused him to get home late yesterday. He mentally kicked Chanyeol, but then again, his friend had gotten the worst punishment ever after school in form of his harpy girlfriend.

“So... you really want me to help out at the clinic today?” His father simply nudged his shoulder, ignoring the pout on his Jongdae's face.

“Money is earned through hard work, son- especially when it comes to part-time jobs.”

“Uh-huh”, Jongdae answered, gulping down the rest of his still hot coffee -Seriously, how long had he sat down for breakfast? Five minutes?- and got up to follow his father through the entrance area and the white door that connected the living space of the house with the vet clinic his father owned.

“So, what can I help you with? Did the supplies arrive yet?” His father blinked at him, obviously impressed, nodded and motioned for Jongdae to go outside where the packages stood. “Nice. Let me stash them away for you.”

The elder nodded, a hand on his son's shoulder before he went back into the clinic. “If you need help, you know where your good old dad is.” But Jongdae quickly sent him back inside, happy to have something to do that would occupy him.

I must have been out of my mind.

Jongdae wondered if he had actually hoped to be able to forget about last night, or if he had wanted to reminisce in old memories when he'd told his dad he would take care of the delivered supplies. The more he got used to his task, the wider his thoughts trailed off into the distance, and whenever he set a foot into the storage room, all he could think about were the many times the two of you used to hide in there when you played hide-and-seek with the others.

He was sure that tending to the customers as they waited inside would have been much more effective than stashing away pills and cat food.

Do you love me?

“Morning! Nice weather, isn't it?” He greeted you, making his voice sound extra cheerful. His father snickered from inside the clinic. Oh, shit.

But his face fell for a moment when he saw you simply standing there, watching him with your eyebrows up, slightly chewing on your bottom lip. Another oh, shit moment, taking into count how pretty you looked with your hair down and your white skirt swaying in the gentle breeze.

Jongdae did his best to regain his confidence by clearing his throat.

“What? Cat's got your tongue?” He laughed, mentally shitting himself when he didn't see your face lighting up.

“Oh, good... morning”, you muttered, starting to shift under his intense gaze because it made you feel awkward, “I just didn't know we were... close enough to greet each other in public.”

Ouch.

“Of- of course we are, we're classmates. We should always greet each other, in and out of school!”

You mustered him up and down, making him feel like he shrunk down to bite-size under your earnest expression. “...I see. Well, are we done here? Since we greeted each other?” He released a sigh that fit his deflated expression and merely nodded, seeing you smile at him with a slight bow and starting to walk on, when-

“Please- wait, there's actually something I gotta ask-” Jongdae was relieved when you turned around on your heels and blinked at him, the edges of your mouth rising once more. He felt his stomach twist as the heat crept up his cheeks, unstoppable and cruel.

Do you love me?

It's either that or the sun's finally getting the best of me.

“You should have told me about the project for chemistry earlier! I could have grabbed my books and made my way here right away.” You exclaimed as Jongdae's father handed you a glass of juice, ice cubes clinking gently when you took a sip. “Chemistry is important to you, isn't it? Only if you still want to become a scientist in the future, that is.”

Jongdae nearly choked on a cube he was chewing on when he realized you had actually memorized a fact that was related to him, but his hopes where crushed right away when you mentioned you had skipped through your last year book because you had gotten curious about your friends' wishes for the future and had read about him there as well.

“I...”

He scratched his neck, obviously thinking of a smart remark he could surprise you with, when the voice of his dad came to his rescue.

“...So, Y/N, how is Nemo doing these days?” Mr. Kim directed his curious eyes at you while filling his own glass. “I haven't seen him strolling around our house for a while now.”

“I actually thought of paying you a visit with him today- he hasn't been eating at all today, but my mom said he's never been that much of an eater, so it might be the weather?”

Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows, clearly remembering you telling Yeri about Nemo gobbling down a whole bowl of cat food within a minute. He also remembered you asking your mom for your allowance in advance because you had to buy him more food, and when she said no, you had begged Jongdae to gift you with cat food for your birthday four years ago.

“Well, Nemo's about 15 years old, after all. It could be the weather, or it could be that he's just becoming more lazy as he becomes older, but maybe you should bring him here regardless of that- you were supposed to come here for his yearly check-up in June, anyway.”

You nodded at that, visibly happy to have such a great vet to take care of Nemo, your furry best friend. “I'll try to pay you a visit with him on Monday, then.”

Jongdae, who had been getting more or less lost in his memories, his gaze fixated on your beaming face, shrinked a little when you suddenly directed your attention at him again.

“So, do you want to start with the chemistry project right away? I could go home and get my things for-”

Yes. Yes- Say yes for god's sake! An unknwon voice kept screaming in his head, screaming at him to give in to what seemed like his chance to spend some time alone with you, but the feeling of his heart thumping so fast that it seemed to be about to burst caused him to do otherwise.

“I, eh- Sorry, but I already have plans for today.” Jongdae was sure of his mind playing tricks on him, because, for a mere second, he thought he'd seen your face fall- but he was sure he'd been wrong when you smiled at him and his dad as you got up- obviously, you were getting ready to leave.

“In that case, I'll be on my way to the grocery store. It was nice to chat with the two of you- Mr. Kim, Jongdae.” You waved at them before grabbing your bag and exiting the back of their clinic.

Jongdae's gaze followed your swaying hair when he was suddenly nudged by his father, making him groan. “Dad-”

“I already told you when you were ten and I know it made you cry, but I'll disown you if you don't make her my in-law, Jongdae.”

Blushing, Jongdae got up, his dad handing him some money before he practically ran out to follow you.

“Didn't you say you were a bit short on time because you had plans today?” You eyed him curiously, raising your eyebrows a bit at the large smile that had been plastered on his face ever since he'd managed to take you to this ice cream parlor a few minutes away from the grocery store.

“Yeah, I mean, I don't think we'd have had enough time to finish the project today because of that.”

“Who are you meeting up with, by the way?” Jongdae took his time before answering, his mind fully captivated by the redness that was crawling up your neck and, finally, cheeks, or the sight of you fumbling with the hem of your dress to avoid eye contact.

“I'm... going to meet the guys- Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and a few others you might not really know.”

“Oh. I see... like a guys' night out?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Not really- Y-you could even tag along if you want. There will be other girls you could chat or play with.”

Something in your chest stirred, causing you to look anything but pleased.

He had known. He'd noticed how perfect -well, regarding your actual relationship- everything had been going today. He'd been seeing you in town on your own a few times, greeting you and sometimes even chatting with you, but sooner or later, there'd always been something -someone- to distract you and pull you away from him. Today had been the day, and he wouldn’t have been Kim Jongdae if he hadn’t known how to ruin it for himself.

“What's up?” The burning sensation of his palm on your shoulder made you stop mid-action, your eyes darting upwards to meet his. Jongdae felt somewhat intimidated by the expression you were now gazing at him with, but it didn't make him feel uncomfortable at all. It was the first time in two years, he realized. The first time ever since his birthday two years ago, ever since you’d caused him to think you were feeling the way he did

Why did I even answer you? I should have apologized, nothing more. Stop getting so sentimental, Jongdae.

“I don't know if I should be honest with you, Kim Jongdae.” Your eyes darted back to the floor, head shaking merely as if to support your thoughts, negativities he wasn't supposed to hear. “I don't know if I should really trust you that far-” His breath got stuck somewhere between his nose and his lungs when you suddenly grabbed one of his hands with yours, and gosh, were they small. And soft. Jongdae would have bet on them even smelling good-

“But despite everything my friends keep telling me, despite everything that's written about you in my diary, I feel like I want to trust you.”

“You...” He barely withstood the urge to hold on to your hand, but he managed to gently push it away in the end. “I don't think you should be trusting someone like me, Y/N.”

“My diary says so, too- but somehow, meeting you like this made me feel otherwise.”

The boy scowled. He’d thought he’d heard wrong before, but- “Your... diary?”

You blushed, but went on either way. “Yes, well, it's rather something like a notebook I use to keep up with the most important details of my daily life. To remember the things I... I forget about.” It was weird for you to talk about something so... private, but it also felt good to have someone listen and you had to admit that, different from what your diary had said, Jongdae seemed to be a nice person- and a great listener. “I wonder what my friends would do if they saw me opening up to you that much.” You laughed a little, but stopped when you saw Jongdae's face darken.

“I'm sure they already would have pulled you away from me, just like they always do.” It was your time to furrow your brows. “They seem to think I'm a bad influence for someone like you- and they may be right, I don't know.”

“What makes you think that?” You wondered what he -someone like Jongdae- could have done to be pushed away by your small group of friends, who were both also kind and caring enough to take someone like you in. Instead of eagerly reaching for his hand, you grabbed the string of your bag for something like... an anchor in the midth of the mess that was your head. “Did something happen between our friends? You and one of the girls-”, you paused, taking a deep breath to calm your own nerves-” or even us?”

Jongdae felt your eagerness giving him goosebumps. Despite whatever he had thought before, he was sure that something deep, deep inside of you wanted to get close to him again- and seeing how you were seemingly pulled to him made him feel indescribably soft. Like the matching poles of two magnets someone kept pulling apart. He could practically feel his heart swell with every word of honesty you spoke- because lying, he guessed, was something you were not capable of. “I... Honestly, I don't know.”

He didn't want to risk hurting you by accidentally making you try to remember anything about yourself too much, but he had to admit he was just as curious as you. He still remembered the last day the two of you hung out freely, the last day he had made you laugh and carried your backpack. He had thought about it over and over again, but had never managed to find a reason for you to leave his side when he had thought that you'd -eventually, if only the heavens had been on his side-

felt just like him. “We stopped being close two years ago. Believe it or not, but I have no idea why.”

He saw your face fall, shoulders hanging, and it took him all of his self-discipline not to step up to you and engulf you in a hug. He could have easily done so, maybe you even wanted him to- and yet, he would have felt as if he was taking advantage of your situation. Jongdae was no coward (just sometimes, he secretly was), but taking your situation into count, he still wanted to leave the first steps of whatever the two of you were heading up to to you. He had been used to matching up to your pace, and he had promised himself he would never throw himself right at you (unless you wanted him to, and heck, how often did he catch himself thinking back to the old times, where you'd tug on his shirt for a hug)- he wanted to give you the space and time you needed to get used to him again, no matter how long it'd take.

So instead of getting closer, he shifted around awkwardly, his shoes causing the earth beneath them to scrunch a little. He nodded over to the parlor you’d been sitting next to for the time being. “So... you wanna go get some ice cream?”

But all you could do was shake your head. “I'm not sure if I'm still in the mood for ice cream...”

Jongdae bit his lip, this time unable to hold his hand back as it reached out to you on its own, a gentle pat on your back causing you to smile. “We could share? Eating something delicious may brighten your mood. What's your favourite flavour?”

You smiled at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

How could you not feel happier again, when Jongdae was trying so hard to cheer you up?

“You want to know about... what?”

You patiently waited while Yerim and Sooyoung looked at each other as if you'd just told them you'd move away tomorrow and never come back.

“I don't think there's anything worth knowing, sweetheart.” But Yerim's furrowed brows told you otherwise.

“I would like to know what happened between me and Jongdae”, you started, casually sipping on your shaken sweet tea. “ Something must have happened. I feel like we'd be much closer if it didn't- and he said he's clueless himself.”

You saw your friends scoffing in unision. “He's what?!” Sooyoung slammed her hands on the table, half of the customers in the small café you'd met up in looking at her in shock. “He's a fucking idiot, Y/N, a fucking idiot! He's just as evil as his friends are!-”

“When did you even talk to him?”, Yerim asked as she yanked Sooyoung's butt back into her seat.

“Today. We met in front of his house and spontaneously went for ice cream.” You tried your hardest not to smile, but the glow on your face was impossible to hide. “I thought that if anyone would know, it should either be you or his friends.”

“Sweetie...” Yerim took your hands and gently pressed them while Sooyoung huffed and threw her head back, cheeks puffed in anger and frustration. “You know, it's not like we don't know about your feelings for Jongdae, but...”

“Yeri, stop. I don't want her to get close to these three pieces of garbage ever again. I gave Chanyeol another chance, and you saw what he made of it-”

“Why is this about you again, Sooyoung? Does each and every conversation have to revolve around you and that wanna-be-punk?”

“He's not- I mean, of course not”, the taller girl exclaimed, irritation washing over her face and revealing her inner state. “You know that all I want is to protect our friend from getting her heart broken over and over again- Park, Byun, Kim, they’re all the same kind of idiots. Insensitive, unbelievably mean and-”

“Girls, girls, girls- I fucking love him! ”, you threw in, both of your friends now looking at you, eyes wide and mouths agape. “This is my life, after all. I am a part of this group. I feel like I have every right to know about whatever happened between all of us.”

“It’s all in the past, sweetie, we should all calm down and think about what’s ahead of us, I guess”, Yeri patted your hand while Sooyoung raised her hand to order another round of tea and coffee for the three of you, but even the sugar-coated cookies she demanded as well could distract you.

“Sooyoung. Yeri. Please. You know me- my past, my future, everything’s unknown to me. The two of you are my number one source for everything that’s happened to me in the past years. What do you think I should do if even the two of you stop backing me up? What should I do with my future if I don’t even know who I am because my past is nothing but blurry?” Ugh, how you hated it to play that card- but it seemed to work just fine.

“Sooyoung, I read about your break-up. Heck, I don’t even know how to comfort you because I barely even know what it’s like to love someone, to be loved, or to be broken up with and miss someone- I want that, too, no matter the outcome.” You leaned over to them, a pleading look on your face. You felt like crying, andeventually, it showed- because even if you had just started to act like a kicked puppy to convince them, it was true. You were scared of your future- but what scared you the most was spending your present without living. You still wanted to go out and have fun, live and love like everyone else. You were convinced that even for someone like you, romance was a possibility as long as your partner was someone who cared. Someone who tried- someone like him, you added in your head.

Just this once, please.

You saw the two of them exchanging glances, with Yeri biting her lip and Sooyoung blinking a tad bit too fast, trying to hide her watery eyes. “Fine, but... please don't swear again. Sooyoung's rubbing off on you way too much.”

“Stop babying me, Yeri. You're younger than me!”

“Who cares about two months-” Sooyoung interrupting her by smacking the blonde's head made you crack up.

“What did you just say? I didn't hear you, Kim Yerim, I guess your bad hearing's rubbing off on me!”

Jongdae's mind was a freaking mess. With the memories of the past years and today all mixed together, the moments of tension that had practically drained him, he didn't even feel like attending Baekhyun's small party anymore- he would've rather spent time alone to think, to remember.

But he'd promised after all, and he had also said yes to band practice being set up for today due to the detention he'd gotten because Chanyeol'd behaved like a fucking caveman in class. He smiled, eyes crinkling in delight. He was reall walking through heaven and hell with that boy, but he was living for it- they were friends, after all.

“Yo, guys! It's me!”, he exclaimed as he opened the door to the small wooden hut in the Byuns' backyard, “What's going on?”

The guys immediately handed him a can of beer -Baekhyun's dad was a seemingly sad example of a single father, allowing the boys to drink at home to “man up” (when in reality, he rather had them drink at home than somewhere else, but how uncool did that sound)- and immediately discussed which song to play as an opening for tonights party and some new stuff Chanyeol had come up with, when Baekhyun put an arm around Jongdae's shoulders and slomped down next to him on the old, red leather sofa that had been a part of the Byuns' livingroom until three years ago, when Baekhyun had somehow managed to burn a butt-sized hole into one of the seats.

“I guess something good happened today? You're pretty much thrilled up today!” Jongdae sent a silent toast to his two friends and emptied his can before speaking.

“Well, you could say so. Nice weather-”

“-nice skirt, you mean.” Chanyeol took a seat in a blue armchair opposite to them. Baekhyun eyed them curiously, while Jongdae tried to hide in the collar of his shirt, immediately getting the hint.

“Your date was wearing a nice skirt today- a bit too long for my taste, but you've always been the conservative one here- Ey!”, the giant exclaimed when Jongdae's beer can collided with his head.

“Date? You were on a date?! Why didn't you tell us you had a girl wrapped around your little finger? Who is it? Spill the tea already!!” Baekhyun nudged Jongdae's side, obviously proud of his buddy.

Jongdae opened his mouth to speak, but before he could make sure that whatever answer he was going to give seemed solid, Chanyeol rolled his eyes and, holding his head, added “Naw, just kidding. I saw him in town with Brainy. They were eating ice cream. Should've seen them, Dae was so much into acting all lovey-dovey and sharing with her, I thought he was going to feed her at any moment- AH!” He tried to hold back his laughter, but failed miserably and ended up stubbing his toe at the coffee table.

“Serves you right!”, Jongdae happily yelled, before turning around to get some nice comment out of Baekhyun. “Doesn't it- hey, what's up? Someone stole your tongue?” He furrowed his eyebrows, repeating his friend's past action and nudging his shoulder playfully- but all he got was Baekhyun shoving him away and off the sofa. “Ey, what the fuck was that for?!”

“So, you're seeing her now?”, Baekhyun growled, head hanging low enough for his bangs to hide his face. “You're seeing each other? You're finally dating that sad excuse of a bitch- Fine, congratulations.” He made an attempt to get up and walk over to his keyboard, but Jongdae was faster- he jumped up from his position on the floor and pushed Baekhyun back to the couch, making him trip over his own feet and causing him to fall backwards with his back hitting the leather first. “Jongdae, what the fuck?!”

“What's your fucking problem?”, Jongdae yelled, throwing his hands up in the air to express his irritation, but also ready for a possible fight. “I told-”

“-I think I should be the one asking you two just that”, Chanyeol threw in, getting between the two smaller guys to prevent any more damage. “Jongdae, lower your fucking butt and then talk it out!”, he shouted, causing the other two to shut up for a moment and get back to their senses, realizing he had usually been the one they had to calm down and aid him with his anger management.

“I definitely didn't intend to make the two of you scratch each others' eyes out when I made that stupid joke.”

Jongdae huffed once, twice, and eventually a third time before laying his eyes upon Baekhyun again. “So? I'm waiting for your answer, dumbass.”

“What's there to wait for? I already wished you well, asshole.” Baekhyun wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, facial expression still falling a mile a minute. “I hope you and that annoying little piece of crap will live well and experience your happy ever after.”

“What reason do you have to treat her like that? I remember you telling us you liked her, Baek! Whenever you talk about her now, it's like you've become a whole different person! Did some kind of ghost get a hold of you and tell you to treat her like shit from one day to another? Or-”

“That's the fucking problem, you dumbass!” Chanyeol grabbed his chest in surprise, as Jongdae stayed unfaced by their friend getting up and slamming his hands flat on the table, their bottles jumping in unision.

“To be honest”, Baekhyun's voiced seemed forced and compressed, as if he tried his best to withstand the urge to talk, “I... like Y/N.”

Silence.

It was a weird, maybe even comical moment, with the rapid exchange of eye contact between Chanyeol and Jongdae, the latter feeling the hair in his neck standing up one after another, while Baekhyun shifted in his seat as if his blonde friend was a bomb that was about to explode. Unexpectedly, Chanyeol was the first one to regain his ability to speak.

“You what?”

“It's true. I've been in love with her for about... four years now”, Baekhyun started, elbows now resting on his knees, his face hidden in his hands to hide the embarrassment that started to show on his face.

“I... never knew”, Chanyeol mumbled, something like awe showing on his face, but he was too scared to drag things into a humorous direction just now. He'd never seen his friends in such a dead-serious moment, though he somewhat felt like this was all part of either a hidden camera prank, or some kind of cheesy romance novel.

“Well, me neither”, Jongdae growled, too overwhelmed by his own feelings of Baekhyun suddenly stepping up as a potential rival in a fight for your heart (though it was very unlikely that Yerim or Sooyoung would let you get close to any of them after what happened).

When Baekhyun realized his friends had nothing else to add, he continued, keeping his face low as he shifted awkwardly on the old red sofa beneath his butt. “I thought that, if I kept humiliating her, I would at some point start to believe in my own words, that I would like her less, maybe even dislike her someday- be able to let go and move on- but it's not that easy.” His gaze shifted to Jongdae, who was still furious, his whole body shaking from anger and irritation. “Whenever I hurt her, I saw your eyes, the sadness it pushed you into- and I knew that, while my head told me to stop this, my heart had made the right choice. She may be weird, but if someone like you falls for her, Y/N must be one hell of a girl- a rare catch, like a diamond.”

With his gaze still resting upon Jongdae, he missed the way Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows and mouthed something along the line what the fuck?, falling into a trance as he slowly started to realize the direction this was taking.

“After a while, I noticed I like it when she cries or shies away from me- it's cute, but-”

“-Wow, you're one fucking asshole.”

Baekhyun sighed and nodded, eyes carrying a small glint of sadness. “True, Dae, I was going to say exactly that. I'm an asshole for making her feel so down, and I possibly hate myself the most for it- but I'm also your friend, and so I decided to start over. I promise I'll behave-”

Chanyeol regretted only waking up from his trance the second he heard the crack caused by Jongdae's fist hitting Baekhyun's nose with full force.

Back to the LiaL Masterpost || Chapter 3

tagging: @noona-clock @trishmarieco @cramelot @jjong-dae77 @lovebuginlove

26 notes · View notes

maergo · 6 years ago

Note

😌 ALL OF THE KISSES

Send ❤️ for a romantic kiss. Over three months well into the relationship, Minho decided that it was his time to take the other out on a date as he had been saving up some money just for that purpose. The date was just a simple dinner date in a more fancy, but not too fancy restaurant that he normally wouldn’t go to (because ‘why pay ten bucks extra for certain side dishes if you can also get them for free somewhere else’ - also, with both of them being big eaters it wasn’t gonna stay at just ten bucks extra). However, every once in a while he did want to be a little less of a cheapskate in front of the other, both because he cared a lot about him and wanted him to feel special and because they both were complete opposites with their view on money. Minho had to learn that it was okay to be a little more reckless with it, so a more expensive date wasn’t too bad to begin with.Having finished their meals, now left with their wine to finish, Minho couldn’t help but lean over the table, reaching out to pull the other closer by his tie for a soft, sweet yet prolonged kiss. ‘‘I love you.’’

Send 💝 for a plationic kiss. Spending a day differently than usual, they had decided to go to the fair and waste some money on going on rides and winning stuffed animals. Though they were mostly joking around when ‘fighting’ for the toys, once Z had managed to win the huge tiger that Minho secretly held an eye on ever since he first saw it, the younger of the two jumped around in excitement once the stuffed animal was pushed in his arms and kissed his cheek multiple times while yelling ‘thank you’ a few times.Send 💞 for a awkward kiss. ‘‘I don’t thi-’’ Minho wasn’t given the chance to finish his sentence, Hyunsik immediately jumping in with a whiny voice. ‘‘You two never kiss if we’re around! It’s always just a peck but never a real kiss!’’ Both Minho and Zsadist let out a soft groan, there was no way they’d get away with any excuse as to why they shouldn’t share a kiss so they both just leaned in for what they hoped would be a proper kiss in the eyes of the twins, it being a little awkward as their kisses usually came natural instead without anyone telling them to kiss.Send 💓 for a heated kiss. The day couldn’t have gone by any slower, Minho had forced himself to take a day off work completely since he was getting a little too exhausted and he had quickly decided not to ever take a full day off anymore. And, since Zsadist had made sure there was no way Minho could secretly work anyway by locking up the studyroom with all his items in there, as a revenge Minho had been bothering him all day long by sending sexual texts (”I used to have a dildo as big as the cucumber in the fridge, maybe I should get one of those again since I always get worked up while you’re gone. It’s a shame you can’t come home early”) or even some teasing pictures. Not once did he get an actual response, but he knew they were all seen and he knew it frustrated the other.Around the time that Z would come back home, Minho was back in bed, just barely covered by the sheets knowing that they would disappear quickly anyway. And just like he expected, the other appeared perfectly on time in front of him, the lust clearly to be seen in his eyes before he ripped away the sheets, mentioned something about how rude Minho was for doing what he did (but then in a very frustrating manner) and not even two seconds later their lips were roughly planted together, it being one of the sloppiest but heated kisses while both their hands wandered over each other’s bodies.Send 💟 for a delicate kiss. Minho’s parents had surprised the two with a visit. As his mother was recently informed about their relationship, she felt the need that she and her husband would come over to celebrate the holidays together (and also for Zsadist to meet Minho’s father), so for a few days there weren’t many moments in which the two lovers had some time to spend with just the two of them. Going into the new year with all of them together, wishing each other the best wishes and a happy new year, Minho eventually pulled Z away so they could have a little moment together to enjoy the fireworks. Though he normally was one who enjoyed being held more than to be the one who held someone else, now he just felt the urge to position himself behind the other, his arms wrapped around his waist as he placed a bunch of tender kisses in the back of Z’s neck, whispering how much he loved him and how excited he was to spend the new year together with him.Send 💔 for a interrupted kiss.Something Minho loved when it happened in the moment but hated afterwards was his clothes being torn apart. He already didn’t have too many clothes, and the ones he did have were so comfortable that he was very careful with them, but sometimes things got so heated that neither of them had the patience to wait until all clothes were taken off in the way it’s usually done, so more often than not they went out shopping for a new set of clothes again. For some reason it always ended up in Minho asking whether or not his ass looked good in that jeans, followed by them going back and forth with flirtatious remarks… It had become a habit that would eventually be extinguished by some laughter, up until Minho decided that laughing about it shouldn’t be the end of it every single time, so he pulled Zsadist with him into the changing room wrapping his arms around his neck with a grin. ‘‘Don’t think a laugh is gonna end it now.’’ He didn’t mean to take it to the level of public intercourse, all he wanted was a simple kiss and that was exactly what he was getting then until someone knocked on the door, causing them to break the kiss and look over at it. ‘‘Excuse me, it is not allowed for two people to be in the same changing room. Please open the door and come out again.’’ And so, it all ended with a laughter anyway, a last peck on the lips being placed before Minho shoo-ed Z out again.Send 💘 for a static shock kiss. Having rolled over the carpet playing around with the cats, Minho was completely static although he hadn’t noticed it himself yet. Getting up again when he heard the front door being opened, he walked over to his boyfriend to greet him with a smile and a kiss, only to give him a shock which left them both stare at each other for a split second in confusion. It was then that Minho realized where the shock came from, grinning while the other started to look more offended than anything else. ‘‘Woopsie daisy.’’Send 💗 for a repetitive lip peck kiss.Zsadist had recently discovered that it was just roses that Minho was allergic for instead of every single flower, so when Minho came home from a meeting one day he was surprised to see the house filled with different types of flowers, making the place more colorful which he absolutely loved. Slowly making his way to the kitchen, hearing the stove was on so he figured that’s where Zsadist would be, he sped up when he actually saw him there and jumped onto his back, forcing the other to turn his head a little so he could kiss his cheek repetitively.Send 🖤 for a forced/harsh/firm kiss. Money argument #3000 had started, Minho again was fired up by the reckless behavior Zsadist had when it was about money and despite that Minho still needed to get used to the fact that there was no way the other would run out of money, he couldn’t help but still hate the the numbers that were on some bills. ‘‘Who the fuck pays so much money for a carpet?!’’ The never ending arguing about their different views on money had become enough for Z by now, so instead of continuing the argument, Minho was surprised by a rough kiss. ‘‘Shut the hell up, mango.’’Send 💚 for an eskimo kiss.It was cold, it was snowing and the tip of Minho’s nose was cold and red. He still wasn’t sure why Zsadist insisted on them going out for a walk while knowing how much Minho disliked the snow, but one way or another he managed to get the younger to come along anyway and as his actual body was warm, his nose felt like it could freeze and break off any minute. ‘‘Babe, I really can’t hold it out here any longer. My nose is gonna freeze!’’ As overdramatic as he sometimes was, he held his nose covered by his hand to hopefully keep it somewhat warm, but even after a few minutes it still had no effect. ‘‘Don’t be so dramatic and come here.’’ Being pulled in closer, his hand was pushed away and while he expected to receive a normal kiss, his brows were raised in surprise when he felt the other rub his nose against his own, his entire face scrunching up at the cute action.Send 💙 for a spiderman kiss.Seated on the chair with a book in his hands, it was a first for Minho not to join Zsadist on a trip to the grocery store. The book he was reading was a little too interesting and he ‘needed’ to read it all in one go. He was so much into it that he even refused to stand up and give a kiss, so instead he leaned his head back against the chair and motioned the other to come down for the kiss, chuckling lightly at it being an upside down one.Send 💜 for a quick kiss.‘‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. I gotta hurry, I thought the meeting was at ten but apparently it starts in ten minutes. I’ll be back uh.. at some point, I don’t know.’’ Rushing to get his coat on, he hurried over to his boyfriend and was extremely fast giving him a kiss that was more on his chin than on his lips.Send 💛 for an air kiss.For some reason Minho felt it was a good idea to pull his boyfriend along to one of his business meetings. He was once asked how those meetings go and for some reaosn Minho couldn’t find the right words to describe it, so he had offered to take him along sometime and have him experience it for himself. They were opposite of each other at the table, and as someone was explaining a thing or two about what they were looking for in certain songs, Minho couldn’t help but look over at the other side of the table every now and then only to meet some his Zsadist’s flirtatious faces. Rolling his eyes with a quiet chuckle, Minho then narrowed his eyes a little, giving him an airkiss.

Send 💕for good night/morning kiss.‘‘Can you just.. not go to work for like an entire year or something?’’ As usual, Minho had a problem letting go of the other, refusing to let him to go to work peacefully. He hated having to watch him go to work every morning, especially if he didn’t have anything to do in the morning himself which allowed him to stay in bed longer. There was no fun in staying in bed longer only to be left alone there by your lover. With a sigh, Minho leaned in for a kiss anyway when he was offered one, pouting a little afterwards. Send ❣️ for a kiss to a specific spot. location: spine>Even though Minho wasn’t told, he had noticed something was stressing Zsadist out but for the sake of not wanting to be pushy or annoying he refused to ask what it was about and if he there even was anything at all. He would find out one way or another, but for now he simply wanted to make sure the other would come home and feel at least somewhat relaxed. So, by the time he got home he was immediately pulled to the bedroom and pushed onto the bed, back facing upwards, to be given a simple but hopefully relaxing massage by the writer. After a little while Minho felt his back muscles relax somewhat, he smiled at the small accomplishment and figured that it’d be good enough like this. That… up until he got the idea to tease him a little purely for his own giggles, and so he leaned down to place his lips on the bottom of the elder’s spine, placing multiple kisses to make his way up towards his neck being extremely slow in any way possible.Send 💑 for a first kiss. Their first kiss was… not quite what anyone else’s first kiss is like. Some events had happened days prior which caused Minho’s mood to not be too good, he was cranky, not in for jokes and ready to snap at anyone who’d bother him - which was exactly what he did. Both Zsadist and Ash were given short lectures, and surprisingly enough Zsadist was more understanding about it than Ash - after being told what actually had happened beforehand (something with a breakup, as Minho would describe). Ash had stormed out and ordered them to leave, but instead Zsadist lifted Minho up and brought him to the bedroom for them to cuddle. It was then that Minho decided he may have been a little too rude with his lectures, and though internally he told himself not to do it, he ended up leaning in for a kiss anyway, partly because he generally loved kissing and partly because he just wanted this specific kiss-up to happen anyway. ‘‘There, now we had our kiss-up.’’Send 😍 for a surprise kiss.Multiple times Zsadist had offered to bring Minho along to his work, and although they once did actually meet there (even if it was for completely different purposes than learning about the job or anything like that) Minho was curious to find out what he actually did while on the duty, so he had figured out a way to get in contact with someone else who would help him come over and walk around there while the elder wouldn’t notice anything. For the first half of the day Minho was able to observe peacefully, but by the time they had their lunchbreak he couldn’t wait any longer to surprise him and motioned to the guy who helped him all morning long to blindfold Z. He knew ahead that Z would be suspicious at first but would work along anyway, so by the time the blindfold was on Minho received the hint that he could do what he wanted to do and so he quickly ran over, pulled the other’s head down and places a kiss on his lips. Send 💋 for a random kiss. a warehouse kiss>So, their bed broke down. Maybe it was because it was just unstable in the first place, but it also could be because sometimes they’d get a little too rough and would just ignore the state their bed was in. Whatever the reason behind it was: They needed a new bed and so they were stranded in Ikea. They had picked out a new bed again, or it was more one that should be able to hold on for a while again, and as they were trying to find the huge package in the warehouse of the store, Minho found a little corner that he sneaked into to wait for Z to pass by. Once he did, Minho grabbed onto his arm and pulled him into the corner as well, grinning somewhat as he kissed him. ‘‘What’s this good for, huh?’’ - ‘‘I don’t know, I just felt the sudden urge for a sneaky kiss.’’

#brotherzsadist #» m; reply #» tesoro mio ♥#» take me away & make it all better ; if not for a day then maybe forever #HALLEMOTHERFUCKINGLUJAH

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stuckyrpstories-blog · 7 years ago

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Stucky RP Chapter 1

The first part of a roleplay we have been doing for a few years (still in progress, this is a very small fraction of what we’ve already written, and there is much much more coming in the future. Forgive our awkwardness, we’re new at this). Loosely following the plot of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (borrowing also from Marvel comics, real-life historic events, and changes for the sake of story). Written in paragraph roleplay format, so perspective switches between Steve and Bucky. Somewhat mutual pining (Steve doesn’t know what he’s doing), Some period-typical homophobia, 18+ for sexual content.

This part takes place before the events of Captain America: The First Avenger. Bucky’s starting to suspect that his feelings for Steve are more than friendly, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because he’s being shipped out. Steve is kind of oblivious but has strong feelings toward his best friend. They feel pressured to lead the typical American Dream lives, and they each think that’s what the other wants.

Bucky ran trembling fingers through his dark hair nervously, managing to muss it up as he stared into the bathroom mirror. Any minute now he knew his mother would call him down for breakfast, his father angrily fluttering the morning papers at the kitchen table. Normally he liked to stick around and harass his son until he got in a few good jabs, dragging his large feet out the door with a smug air about him. Nothing pleased him more than reminding Bucky where his place was.

"James! If you don't hurry it'll get cold," his mother called just as he knew she would, causing him to grimace a bit as he hurried to replace his hair.

"Yes ma'am," he called back, pushing his worried thoughts from his mind. He'd have to tell Steve today, he was heading out soon and the longer he waited the worse it would be. Taking a deep breath he tipped his head back and steeled himself, reminding himself he was doing as expected, his father had no reason to pick at him now.

"Some sugar," she smiled, proud of herself as she set his bowl on the table, and he couldn't help but return the expression, his tensions eased a bit by her kindness. "And before you say anything, it's alright, I've been saving it for you. I know how much you hate your oatmeal plain, and it's all we've got left this week."

"Thanks ma," Bucky ducked his head a bit as the slight woman bent to kiss his well-combed hair, ignoring his father's sigh of annoyance. He and his mother shared a look as she straightened up, smoothing out her apron before turning to tidy up the counter. Bucky ate his meal in silence, not sure what he could say. His mother was well aware of her husband's expectations for her son, they'd had a few blow-outs over it in the previous weeks.

Mr.Barnes was convinced his son would never amount to anything, though at the heart of it Bucky knew it was because his father was scared and unable to be as effective as he wished he could be. Years of hard labor had scarred his hands, bent his fingers until they barely did what they were told. He'd worked his way up though, so he managed more than mingled. Everyone needed things fixed these days, things were sparse and money was tight. They had enough money to get by, but Bucky's being pushed towards the army was really a result of his father's need to feel proactive in the crumbling world.

Bucky didn't resent him for it, he understood. He understood all too well that because he was capable, he had a responsibility. His father had never been very good with his emotions, but all his well-intentioned heckling had sunk in when he got the letter. "I'll stop by the shop later, Pops," Bucky made sure he cleaned his bowl, drank his milk, cleaned up after himself. His mother's eyes followed him as he moved, shining with adoration. She'd always been his confidant, about most things anyway. She knew this wasn't going to be easy for him.

His father grumbled as he gathered his things, but the old man was smiling. The small gesture was all he needed to get out the door with a hop in his step. He'd help Steve collect his mother's things, tidy the nearly empty apartment. It wasn't the best time to tell him he was leaving, but there wasn't going to be a good time. Everything was arranged for Steve to take his place with his parents when he was shipped off, Steve just didn't know it yet. His friend had talent, and intelligence, and heart like no one else Bucky'd ever met. He was going to do great things. Bucky, on the other hand, was certain his skills would be best utilized in the war. No one had an eye like him, the recruiters had practically salivated when he showed off his deadeye shot. It was all but done.

Steve was going to kill him.

Arriving at the small apartment Bucky tucked the oatmeal cookies gifted by his mother into his pocket, intent on using them to soften the blow. When the time was right. Pursing his lips he grabbed the spare key, opening up and entering without bothering to announce himself. Steve was expecting him. Shuffling in the door he closed it behind him quickly, keeping out the chill spring air. A box already sat beside the door, filled with what looked like winter clothing. Steve's mother wouldn't need them anymore, they were planning on gifting them to the local shelter.

"Steve? Tell me you got some sleep. It's barely 6 a.m."

Steve awoke to find himself face down on the end of his bed. It seemed the night had gotten away with him. He'd tried to sleep at a reasonable hour, with the promise of a busy day to keep his mind off things, but it couldn't come soon enough. He'd tossed and turned until all he could think to do was start packing his mother's things. It was clear to him now that he'd eventually passed out due to exhaustion. He didn't get much sleep these days.

Steve managed to crawl out of bed and headed over to the phonograph, still revolving and emitting static. He'd needed something to drown out the deafening silence of his empty apartment. He was ready to get the day over with so he could finally move out of the place that held so many sad memories. He removed the needle from the record and turned off the machine. Still wearing his clothes from yesterday, Steve headed into the kitchen. He found the energy to make himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't easy to keep going, but he knew his mom would have wanted him to stay fed. Not that he'd ever had any trouble taking care of himself. It had become a necessity when his dad had passed. Steve and his mom had to take care of each other. Now he felt it was his duty to take care of himself, to do right by her.

He'd barely taken a bite of his breakfast when he heard the front door open. Bucky, he thought, with a brief flutter in his chest. In his sleep-deprived fog, he'd almost forgotten about their plans. Though he should have been used to it by then. Bucky had been there nearly every day, despite Steve's constant assurances that he was fine on his own. He couldn't admit it to himself, but it was what he most looked forward to each day. Bucky still knew how to make him smile on even the darkest of days. And he had a feeling that he was going to need that, what with the task that awaited them.

As Bucky called to him and entered the room, Steve could feel a smile gracing his face already. "Hey Buck," he looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure I got at least a solid two hours."

Steve stood up from the table and pulled in his friend for a hug. He sensed an unusual and worrisome tension in his demeanor.

"You didn't have to come do this with me. But I appreciate it all the same. Sorry can I get you some food? Coffee?"

At Steve's admission Bucky sighed, slouching over to the small man with frustration and playfully flipped the cloth of his collar as he pulled away. "Did you sleep in these? Steve…" The dark haired man released the blonde's shirt, turning on his heel to pace away, checking his irritation before it got away from him. Steve had good reason to be neglectful of himself, even if it wasn't his intention.

Facing him he found and presented a smile, doing his best to keep it together. Steve needed all the strength he could muster. "You know I'll help myself," Bucky grinned as he snatched a strip of bacon from the full plate. Slipping it past his lips he savored the salty meat, thinking on how boring his breakfasts would be until the next grocery day. "You shouldn't be alone right now. I'm serious, you gotta ease yourself into these things," chewing around the words he stole a sip of orange juice, washing the crispy bits down.

In his own offer he found an opening, a way he could break the news to his fragile friend. "I'm stayin' here tonight. Aht! No arguing, it's decided. I'm gonna be exhausted runnin' back and forth today. I told Pops I'd stop in and give him a hand lifting a few returns 'round noon. Ma also inferred I'd been spending too much time at the house. I know it's only because she's worried about you. Just, spare me breakin' her heart will ya? You make a guy feel like he's a nuisance," Bucky's aqua eyes shied from his best friend's familiar countenance, knowing it was low to play on Steve's emotions, but unable to help himself. He could barely remember the last time they'd been alone… with wandering hands. It had been before Steve's mom had gotten sick, and that had been weeks ago. Maybe months.

Bucky was beginning to think it'd all been a fluke. He knew Steve was normal, as normal as a guy with all his problems could be. At least more normal than Bucky himself. Bucky had always known he was different, he'd only begun to fear it since the day he'd gotten a kiss from Connie Stafford and hadn't felt a thing. Not like what he felt the first time he and Steve had kidded around and tried out a few things with each other. Definitely not like how he felt now. It had started out innocent enough, but became something of a habit of theirs, nothing serious just… they were good pals. They were there for each other. At least, that's what the dark-haired man told himself. His feelings for Steve were confusing as well as terrifying, but if anything in his life was certain, it was that they ultimately meant nothing. Nothing would come of it, so he didn't dwell. Not when he could help it anyhow.

Maybe in the dark quiet night he could reveal his betrayal, his abandonment of the person that meant more to him than anything. Maybe homemade oatmeal cookies and a friendly touch might take the edge off of the unhappy news. At least, that's what Bucky could hope for. Steve was a good guy, and he had his whole life ahead of him. Bucky just wanted him to be happy. This was one way he knew he could make a positive difference for him… even if he didn't accept it at first.

Steve busied himself as his friend spoke to him, putting the kettle on to boil."I'm fine, really. I got used to being alone a long time ago."

Everything would be okay if he kept moving forward. He'd get a job, anew place to live. Maybe one in Bucky's neighborhood. He'd survive somehow. It wouldn't be the same but at least he'd be okay. As he poured the boiling water into the coffee pot, he nearly scalded himself at Bucky's suggestion of staying over.

"What? No, you don't have to... I don't..."

Suddenly Steve felt guilty. Had he been a bad friend? He had to stop himself sometimes and remember that Bucky needed him just as much. They needed each other. And he realized his friend was trying desperately to help him. So he gave in. "Sure, Buck. You're always welcome. It'll be just like old times."

Nostalgia flooded his memories and the immense distance that had separated the best friends became all too clear. He couldn't afford to lose the only person left in his life. It still felt difficult to open up, but if he could do it with anyone, he knew it would be Bucky.

"I told you, you don't have to be alone. Wether you're used to it or not," Bucky reminded his dismissive friend, leaning back on his countertop and eyeing the coffee offhand. "Why are the old times old times?" the taller man mused a bit sadly, realizing the likely reason even as he spoke. "I guess it's not a thing guys do huh? After a certain age…" the dark-haired man toyed with the dish towel absently, tugging at a stray thread. "Like you're supposed to want to 'grow up'. As though it's only proper to aspire to grow apart."

Bucky perked up a little when Steve made his way over, reaching for the coffee. "You read my mind," Bucky grinned as Steve started on the preparation, and he couldn't help but snatch another bit of bacon off the big plate in his excitement. He was gonna make up for the theft anyway, later. "So, if that's what it takes… grown' up… I don't think it's worth it. Family is all we got, if people forget that tryin' to be proper then they've forgotten what bein' human is."

Realizing he'd been straying too close to a topic he'd never be ready to seriously broach, Bucky grew irritated with himself, and pushed off the counter with a huff. "Can that stuff brew any faster? I gotta put something else in my mouth, you're letting me ramble too much," leaning over his friend's slight shoulder he rested a hand there, "A guy gets mouthy when he's hungry. Seems oatmeal's my breakfast for the week, 'n' mom's not big on the portions. It's like she's not noticed I'm a grown man these days."

Steve listened intently to what Bucky had to say. It made sense. Steve had been far too distant lately. He knew deep down that being alone only made things worse. But despite that, it still hurt too much to open up. He didn't want to drift apart from Bucky. He knew he'd have to work at it. Thankfully for him, his friend was persistent.

The soft touch on his shoulder reminded him. Bucky was there. He was real. He cared about him. It was too special to take for granted. He smiled as he poured two cups of coffee.

"Well then I'll just have to make you an extra large breakfast. All that stuff in the fridge is likely to go bad anyway. I'm still trying to figure out my plan, but I definitely can't stay here."

Bucky eagerly followed the progress of the coffee with his light eyes, biting his lip when Steve poured his cup. He cradled it in his hands, bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply, humming, "Ahh… a little cup of heaven," he smiled, flashing a look at his friend as he gathered up the milk to sweeten up his drink. Once the mixture was to his liking he took a long sip, eyes falling shut as he swallowed it. "I take that back, it's positively sinful."

With a sharklike grin the dark-haired man slid into the open seat at the kitchen table, relaxing back, long legs stretching out. "You makin' me breakfast? I dunno Steve, a guy could get used to that kind of treatment." Although it was a jest and although he'd not been really thinking of what was coming out of his mouth, images filled his mind of them sharing that apartment, spending their days taking care of each other. No war, no separation, no worries about where their lives were going or who cared to comment on it. The unbidden daydream of cozy domestic life startled him such that he nearly spilled his coffee on his best shirt.

Shifting into a better sitting position he settled his mug on the table, running a nervous hand through his hair. He was getting too comfortable. He needed to separate his imaginary Steve from his real Steve. There was no reality where they could be together, and he was only hurting himself and his best friend by pretending it existed.

"You don't gotta do that, buddy," Bucky backpeddled, shaking his head and moving to stand. He slid a hand up Steve's arm to wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a side embrace. "Maybe you could teach this fella a thing or two. Ma's never had the time to show me the ropes, and I gotta learn sometime. It'll be fun. What do you say?"

Steve started to once again gather the ingredients for his friend's meal, stopping to savor a sip of his black coffee before it got cold. He felt a warmness in his chest, even before the coffee. It was a feeling he'd missed. Taking care of someone. Despite his meek appearance, Steve was always trying to help people. It was what made him feel alive. It was what made his life worth living. It was a feeling he did not often experience anymore.

"Please. It's the least I can do. You need to eat well," He glanced enviously at Bucky's muscular frame stretched out at the table, "I bet you got even more growing to do. Not satisfied being only twice my size?"

Steve's skin tingled at the firm touch of Bucky's strong arm around his. The smaller man knew he had his own strengths, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel inferior against his friend's physical endurance. He could only hope he'd get there one day. Until then, he could still show Bucky everything else he had to offer.

"Well I learned how to make all my mom's signature dishes. Nothing special, mostly boiled stuff. But it makes me feel at home. I'd be more than happy to show you." ---

----

Bucky had been resting his lips on Steve's golden head without realizing it, and startled by the realization he snorted at the joke, turning away to return to his coffee. "You got nothing to be sore about Steve, you're getting a college education. You got in on talent and smarts alone. I could never do that," the taller man brought his coffee to his mouth to quiet himself. He was rambling because of his nerves. All his worries about leaving were making him clingy. If he wasn't careful he'd push his best friend away just because he couldn't reign in his emotions.

Bucky cleared his throat and set down the coffee he'd been practically chugging while his thoughts ran amok. "So… by all means, teach me about breakfast. And then I gotta stop by the shop, but I'll only be an hour. When I get back, we can sort all this stuff out okay?"

Bucky's praise made Steve blush. It was difficult for him to feel proud of his accomplishments, but it made him happy when people recognized them. The friends' individual strengths had always complemented each other beautifully that way.

Teaching Bucky was a nice distraction from all the unpleasantness. Before he knew it, they were laughing together and making a mess. "See? Your eggs look even better than mine already."

Feeling more comfortable than he had in months, Steve grabbed one of Bucky's fresh slices of bacon and started chewing on it. "You owed me one... Slightly overcooked but worth it."

He loved having this much fun with Bucky again. He actually felt a pang in his chest every time he thought about him leaving for only an hour. He just kept reassuring himself that he'd be back soon. And who knows, maybe they could stay like this, for a while at least.

"Hey, first time, remember?" Bucky pouted slightly as he sampled his own cooking, licking a bit of butter off his fingertip. "Not bad for a first-timer, if I do say so myself." Munching on his bacon he made a show of stealing Steve's orange juice even though he could have easily gotten his own. Smiling devilishly he gulped it down, fighting off Steve's half-hearted attempts to win it back.

"Aht! You deserved that for criticizing my fledgling attempt," Bucky rationalized playfully, struggling with the urge to put his hands on the smaller man. It wasn't the time for it yet, he had to wait. There was still a lot to be done that day, and he didn't want Steve to have to suffer the burden alone, should he react badly to the news and send Bucky home. There was always the chance that Steve would hate him for this. The timing was just awful.

"I gotta go," Bucky sighed as he scraped up the remnants of his eggs and finished them off, handing his last strip of bacon to the smaller man. He didn't take no for an answer, and slid out of his seat to head out the door. Pulling on his jacket he ran a hand through his hair to put it back in place and smiled weakly, not wishing to leave his friend alone at all, but he'd promised. "I'll be back in a jiffy. You won't even know I'm gone."

With that Bucky pulled Steve into a tight hug, one that lingered longer than it should, he imagined, should anyone have witnessed it. Then he hurried out the door, refusing to think on it too much. Steve wasn't going to do anything stupid. He would be there waiting when Bucky got back, and they'd have a bittersweet walk through memory lane.

~~~~

It was just over an hour later when he hopped back up the steps, rubbing his arm absently. His father had dropped a washing machine on him, luckily only catching his left arm, but it stung like nothing else. Digging Steve's key out of his pocket he let himself in again, calling for his friend. "Steve? Wasn't so long was it? I hope you didn't get too much done without me," he spoke loudly as he slipped off his coat, settling it on the coat rack beside the door before heading to the bedroom where Steve was busily emptying the closet.

"Holy cow, she kept that?" Bucky sank to his knees, forgetting for a moment his new slacks, and wondered at the grainy pictures strewn about the floor. "This was when we found that camera in the park… and borrowed your mom's cash stash to get 'em developed… We used up that whole thing. Here's that picture you took of your painted foot," Bucky couldn't help but laugh, remembering the awe in Steve's face as he'd preserved that bit of himself. Bucky had drawn a ridiculous cartoon on his friend's appendage with the leftovers of his model kit paint, and Steve had loved it. It was thrilling to finally see it again. "Boy did she snap her cap when she found out. I thought she woulda tossed these…"

Bucky settled back against the meager bed, flipping through the photos with a grin stretched wide across his face, the memories mostly pleasant ones. "Here's the few we had that hobo take, remember? He acted like we were putting on a fashion show. Kinda creepy now that I think about it," Bucky's good humor faded and he froze when he found one he'd thought was lost forever, one that had haunted his memory the last few years. Their round young 16 year old faces were mighty close together taking up the whole paper, Bucky's full lips pressed brazenly against Steve's. Their eyes were closed. He'd cupped the blonde's face in his young hands like a lover's. It was impossible to mistake the meaning behind it. And she'd kept it. Suddenly all the lingering looks and soft smiles she'd sent his way made sense, and her last words to him…

'Keep him safe, you hear? Be good to my darling boy.'

She had known, and she had never said anything. She'd also kept the photos when she could have destroyed them easily. Bucky didn't know what to think about it, he just didn't know if he was ready to share it with Steve. They never talked about their intimacies, it was just something they did. Bucky didn't want to push the subject anyway. Steve was a straight up regular guy, he'd be embarrassed and it'd be awkward. So Bucky slipped the picture into his pocket, and remembered he'd yet to gift the oatmeal cookies to his grieving friend. But he'd need them for their conversation. So he handed the small stack to the curious man, minus their kiss, and focused on the last one.

Sarah Rogers stood on the wooden porch, unaware her young boys were saving their last exposure for her. She carefully hung their newly laundered clothing along the long stretches of wood, her fair hair partially obscuring her lovely features that resembled Steve's so flawlessly. It was enough to make Bucky's eyes well up. "She was one helluva woman," he swore in almost a whisper, reverently.

Before he knew it, it was time for Bucky to leave. Steve tried not to show how bothered he was, but it must have shown on his face. He held Bucky close, feeling like neither one of them wanted to let go, until finally Bucky was out the door. Steve stood where they had parted for a minute, analyzing his feelings. Why was he suddenly so heartbroken to be without his friend for one hour? Had he been that starved for company? Not wanting to let the feeling linger, he returned to the task at hand.

Her bedroom closet was going to be the most difficult part, he thought, so he decided to begin there. Pulling out boxes and sorting their contents. He couldn't bear to get rid of any of it, but he knew he wouldn't be able to take much with him. It would be too difficult. He'd just focus on the sorting for now. Maybe Bucky could help him decide what was most important.

Time had gotten away from Steve when he heard his friend call out to him. "In here!" He was absorbed in his rummaging. "Oh yeah, the pictures! I haven't looked through those yet. Gimme a minute to finish going through this file drawer."

He could already see the photos in his mind as Bucky described each one. They were permanently etched in his memory. He finally emerged from the piles of his mother's belongings and reached for the stack that his friend had been browsing. He sat close to Bucky and went through the whole pile again.

"Just as I remembered. That was... such an amazing day." Steve's mind wandered. There was one picture he definitely remembered from that day. But it wasn't there. Just as well, he didn't think he could handle the embarrassment if Bucky brought it up now. Still, he hoped his mom hadn't done anything with it.

When they got to the last picture, they sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, gazing at the face of the woman who had brought him up, taken care of him despite everything, and now was gone. "That she was, Buck. That she was."

Bucky didn't know what he could say, he still had both his parents, Steve had already lost both of his. There didn't seem to be anything he could that would make any difference, and everything he had felt he should say, he'd already repeated for posterity. All he wanted was to provide for his best friend, to be there for him with whatever he needed. So for lack of words he simply leaned their heads together, tight-lipped but smiling as best he could, and gave the blonde's arm a friendly squeeze. After a stretch of just breathing together he gathered the photos into a small empty box, setting them aside for them to keep. Surely Steve would need keepsakes, and he was going to make sure he had some, even if Steve insisted he didn't.

Several hours later it was getting late, the sun was disappearing behind the buildings and they were getting hungry, having inadvertently skipped lunch. Bucky convinced Steve he had no idea how to properly prepare spaghetti, and watched with a mischievous glimmer in his eye as his friend earnestly attempted to teach him how. He was so serious and focused that Bucky didn't have the heart to tell him it was a lie. If there was one thing he could cook, it was pasta.

They sat in relative silence at the kitchen table, Bucky toying with Steve's foot with his own, pretending he wasn't doing it intentionally. He caught Steve's gaze a couple times, smiling lazily, as though he wasn't teasing the blonde on purpose. After they stood side by side at the sink, Bucky cleaning the dishes as Steve dried and put them away. They engaged in small talk as they did, Steve going on about art class, Bucky showing off the large bruise he was sporting from the fumble with his father.

It was so comfortable that when they relaxed in Steve's room after he didn't feel a bit awkward. It was a second home to him, and it made it easier as he again felt the need to come clean. "Steve… you remember when we talked about signing up? How we decided against it because of going to college together and all…" Bucky found he couldn't keep the eye contact he'd started off with, the pure open blue gaze following his lips making his nerves rear their ugly head. "I gotta letter. They're drafting me in," the audible silence was killing him slowly. "I'm leaving in a few weeks for basic, and after that…they probably won't wait long to send me an assignment."

Bucky anxiously looked down at the space where their shoulders were pressed tightly together, leaning back on the wall atop Steve's neatly made bed. "I'm sorry Steve, I… I don't know what else to say." Swallowing hard he jammed his hand into his pocket, grasping for the cookies like a lifeline. He presented them akin to an offering of flowers on a first date, shaky and messy as hell. "Mom made these for you, with what we had left. I know it's a shameful apology, but I didn't want to wait to tell you, and I know it doesn't make up for anything, I… I'm sorry Steve."

Steve held onto the comforting embrace of his friend before excusing himself and wiping away the tears. Some days were harder than others, but it always helped to have Bucky around. It made the rest of the evening pass more smoothly.

They were nearly finished with his mother's bedroom when the boys' stomachs seemed to grumble in unison. "I'd better make us something. I think there's still a can of tomato sauce. How's spaghetti sound?" Bucky seemed eager to be taught, so Steve described the process with as much detail as he could muster. They laughed together as they cooked, enjoyed their dinner, and washed the dishes.

"I've noticed you keep rubbing that arm. Everything okay?" Bucky explained what had happened, and Steve expressed his sympathies. He knew Bucky was tough, but it was hard for Steve to see him in any pain. He felt bad for making his friend work so hard with him all day, so he decided to call a break so they could just rest a while in his room.

As Bucky began to make his confession, Steve instinctively placed an arm on his friend's shoulder. He didn't know what to say. He looked in the man's eyes as he said the words, then stared blankly at a spot on the wall. He couldn't believe it was happening. The only person he had left in his life was being forced to leave him? To potentially lose his life? Suddenly his mind was full of confusing feelings. Like he was realizing for the first time how important Bucky was to him.

"That's, um... Wow." Steve looked back at his friend as a handful of cookies was thrust into his line of sight. He saw Bucky's face again. He could see tears forming in his eyes. The man looked terrified, though Steve could tell it wasn't because of going to war. It was because he didn't know how to tell his friend he had to leave him.

Steve took the cookies graciously. "It's... It's okay, Buck. I know this can't have been easy for you. We'll figure something out. Maybe you don't have to go..." He felt his own tears welling up. "Maybe I can go with you? Something..." Suddenly he didn't care about college or work or anything. He just didn't want to be alone anymore.

Bucky didn't have the heart for this, but he knew it wasn't going to go away. He'd have to talk about it one way or another, and the reality of their situation was a heavy one. "Steve…" his friend was clearly in denial, but the slightly older man had expected as much. God, he felt like such an asshole. Still, he didn't want to make it any worse… he went back and forth quite a bit in his mind before speaking again.

"We both know they won't take you, Steve. Your asthma alone…" Bucky felt his throat tighten, but he fought to continue, it was too important for his fear to silence him now. "It's gonna be alright. I'm good at that sorta stuff, remember? Number one athlete. You better believe before I go, we're gonna brush you up on your boxing. I can't leave you here with no way to defend yourself." The thought of Steve alone in the city terrified him, but he had to stay positive.

"I'll be back before you know it. You'll see. And, I've still got a few weeks before anything so…" Bucky's heart was racing as he reached for Steve's free hand, his mouth going dry. He shouldn't be nervous, they'd been doing this thing for years… but it was changing for him, he felt… different. His father would be so angry with him. His mother would feel like a failure. But when he was with Steve, none of that mattered. And, as it seemed, he didn't have to worry about it long. Soon he'd be on the other side of the world, far away from this thing they had, it would be something for him to hold onto tightly. And it could all be over in the space of a breath.

Curling their fingers together he gave a gentle squeeze, resting their foreheads against one another, breathing shallow in his excitement. "This isn't gonna change anything. You're always gonna be my best friend…I meant it when I said it before. I'm with you 'til the end of the line, Steve." Licking his lips he let his fingertips drift up Steve's thin bare wrist, watching the progression until he met the cloth of his rolled up sleeves. "Lemme show you."

Without a moment's hesitation Bucky ducked his head and captured Steve's frowning full lips, determined to help him forget their circumstances, even if it was just for a little while. They never talked about this thing, barely ever even alluded to it. It was fragile. Not because of their insecurities, but because it just wasn't done. As long as they didn't act on it in public, it wasn't an issue. Everyone knew boys and girls fooled around, but as long as it wasn't a spectacle, no one paid it any mind unless they had a real enormous stick up their ass.

It was all about the end game. If you ended up married, no harm, no foul. If you were a confirmed bachelor but you didn't fuck a guy on your front lawn and flaunt your lifestyle, folks rarely called you out on it. But he knew it was dangerous to dream like that… Steve blushed at the sight of women, wistfully watched as they walked by, his nerves giving away his fancy. He wasn't like Bucky, who didn't get nerves, who felt cool as a cucumber when dealing with girls because really, he had nothing to lose. And that was all the dark-haired man needed to know. Steve was a smart guy, a nice guy, and he had a stubborn streak a mile wide. He'd make it far in the world, no matter what. And if a girl was what Steve wanted to be happy, then maybe it was good that he was leaving.

Without breaking their liplock Bucky took the nearly forgotten cookies from Steve's other hand, placing them on the nightstand. Cupping the blonde's face tenderly he kissed as gently as he could, careful not to upset the tentative moment. He took his time, dragging his now wetted lips along his friend's jaw languidly, nipping and licking down his slight neck. Steve's breath caught, and Bucky smiled, glad he could still affect his friend so strongly, and busied his hands with undoing the other man's belt.

It'd been so long he was worried Steve might stop him, might change his mind, might have decided he didn't want this with his friend anymore. But the blonde just laid back and let him open up his trousers, reach in to stroke him. Bucky bit his lip to brace himself, feeling his own desire grow as he curled long fingers around the firming shaft, careful not to give in to his urges and unbutton his friend's threadbare shirt. Steve tended to be self-conscious about his body, especially in comparison to Bucky himself, so the bigger man never pushed the matter if he could help it.

Careful not to force the moment too far, Bucky kept his eyes downcast when he bowed his head, sliding Steve's growing erection past his slippery lips, his eyes fluttered closed for a second as he was overwhelmed by the powerful sensation. He didn't linger too long though, beginning his worship of Steve's body almost immediately, one large hand curling around a trim thigh to brace himself, the other still gripping the shaft in his mouth with just enough pressure.

Bucky could only hope Steve wanted this distraction as much as he did.

Steve shuddered at the way Bucky said his name, breaking the tense silence. He wanted to stay in that moment. He didn't want time to keep moving. He wished he could freeze everything and just keep Bucky forever. What was he supposed to do? He felt so weak as his friend reminded him of his disadvantages. Even though he knew Bucky was just trying to protect him. It was too much to handle at once.

He let Bucky pull him closer. It suddenly felt like they'd never been close enough, despite all they had done together. And now he never wanted to let go. He squeezed the man's hand, letting him know how strongly he felt, in place of the words he couldn't find. The sudden kiss didn't even surprise Steve. It was like slipping back into a place where he felt most comfortable. He could never put these feelings into words. He didn't even fully understand them. But they always felt right with Bucky.

When Bucky took away the cookies, as though Steve finally remembered that he had hands, he gripped his friend's muscular shoulders tightly and pulled him closer. The way the larger man's lips touched Steve's skin all over made him shudder with excitement. By the time Bucky was reaching for his belt, he could already feel himself straining against his pant leg. The hunger he felt for his friend to touch his most intimate areas was more unbearable than ever. When he felt the large hand finally make contact, Steve let out an involuntary moan. The pleasure in that moment of contact so great, he could have lost his control right then. But he held on, squeezing Bucky's arms tighter. Trying to focus and make the moment last.

Steve braced himself as his best friend slowly lowered his head. The young man wasn't the most experienced lover, but in all his days, he'd never felt anything as amazing as Bucky's lips. He groaned again as they made contact, already on the torturous brink of orgasm. He couldn't give in so soon. He needed this moment to last. He tilted his head back and shut his eyes. He focused on his thoughts of Bucky. He couldn't admit it to himself, but this man was the most important thing in his life. He couldn't bear to see him go.

Suddenly he was brought back to reality as he opened his eyes and saw this man, this man he cared about so much, showing him such... tenderness. It wasn't just a way to get off. There was something special growing between them. Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's thick hair in an effort to show him how much he meant to him. How badly he needed him to stay.

Bucky was lost to his senses, happily drowning in a sea of need. It was becoming too much, and he gave in and rubbed off a bit against the heavy blanket beneath them, He was so wanton, so immersed that he didn't even need to touch himself, he felt like he could go off at any minute. And Steve… Steve was divine, writhing against him, eagerly pressing into his ministrations, shamelessly moaning for him.

It took everything he had not to lose his cool and ruin his new slacks. That would be fun to explain to his mother. So he focused on his friend, paying close attention to every sound he made, every shift of his body. Bucky wanted Steve to remember him fondly, no matter what happened. So he would give the man everything he could before he left. Everything.

But as he lay there, feeling Steve getting closer and closer to the edge he decided he couldn't give that last part of himself, the thing he'd been wondering about since they started their little games. No, he couldn't let himself go that far, because if he did, he might not be able to let the man go. And as good a man as Steve was, he wasn't big on emotional attachment. As much as Bucky wanted him, Steve wasn't his to have.

The fingers slipping gently into his hair nearly caused him to stop, the emotions flooding through him almost too much to bear. Steve had no idea what he meant to Bucky, and the dark-haired man could never let him know. It would ruin everything, it could create a rift between them that could never be healed. No, it was best that Bucky keep his distance, keep things friendly. Because he loved Steve enough to let him go.

Tears prickled at his eyes as he was petted, the show of affection tugging at his heartstrings violently. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up a sobbing mess in Steve's lap. So Bucky steeled himself and pressed his cheek lovingly against Steve's bared thigh, managing to look up at him fondly as he doubled his efforts. He wanted Steve to let go, he wanted to take care of him. He didn't have much time left, but what time he did have he intended to spend with his best friend doing everything in his power to make him happy.

And if Bucky tried hard enough, maybe he could win the war before it could touch him.

Steve felt hesitation from Bucky when he touched him. He hoped he hadn't offended his friend. He let slip more pleasurable noises in an attempt to let the man know he was enjoying himself. He wanted to return the favor. He didn't want to ruin this. It was the only thing they had that could express their unspeakable bond with each other. These thoughts were bound to drive him mad. They were staving off his climax, but just barely. Soon enough it was too overwhelming to fight.

Steve focused on the feeling of Bucky's tongue and lips against him. His hips were grinding against the man's face, aching for his release. He felt his breath quicken. His muscles tightened as his entire body finally gave in to the pleasure. "Bucky!" His hips raised high, he came forcefully on the larger man's beautiful face. It felt like it would never end. He could barely catch his breath enough to come back to reality.

He held his friend's face in his hands. What could he possibly say? He didn't even understand his emotions. But he knew they were real. And with this clarity came the reminder that he was leaving. Tears returned to his eyes. He never wanted to have to say goodbye. He had to do something.

"Goddamn. How did you learn to do that? Maybe it's time you taught me a thing or two."

Bucky accepted Steve's release gracefully, pleased when some spattered across his lips and tongue. The remnants he wiped off with his wrist, smiling sheepishly as he did. Even with his cock raining all over another guy's face Steve Rogers still managed to act the angel. "Why, I've been getting a lot of practice in, as you well know…" the dark-haired man rested comfortably on his side, brushing his mussed hair back from his face.

His own erection strained almost painfully against the front of his spotless trousers, though he did reach down to adjust himself a little under Steve's cerulean blue gaze. Bucky loved the way his friend looked at him when they did these things. It was only then that he felt like maybe Steve might feel a smidge of what Bucky felt for him. Deep down he knew he was just fooling himself, but when he was hard and Steve was pressing in tight against him, it really didn't matter. Bucky knew he would kick himself later, but in the moment it was everything.

Still, he couldn't let himself go like that. Once he'd started realizing it meant a lot more to him than Steve, he'd tried desperately to reign himself in. But this was it, things were winding down, and soon he'd be wishing he was here with his friend, messing around in the fading evening light. "Okay," Bucky agreed after considering it for a moment. "If that's what you really want."

Bucky undid his belt, sliding out of his pants easily, setting them aside, "If I ruin these my mom'll tan my hide," he then replaced himself next to Steve, "But I wanted to look good for you. So I risked it." It had taken a lot to admit, but he was feeling bold after their intimacy, and he figured he'd be gone soon anyhow. He could let loose a little. "For the record, I don't think you need any coaching. You always know just what to do to drive me wild."

Bucky's heart was hammering in his chest as Steve looked him over, as though trying to decide what to do. Up until then they'd stuck to mostly hands, some mutual grinding, the occasional mouth action. No matter what Steve chose, Bucky was always blown away. Just having the blonde beside him was enough to make his heart skip uncontrollably. Steve had never swallowed him down though, he'd always pulled back, and Bucky wondered if that's what his friend was asking.

"You know I'm up for anything. And if you're not feelin' it, that's no problem either. I'm not greedy," Bucky grinned at that, honest though it was, since his reputation often said otherwise. But a reputation was really only perception, and if one played their cards right, they could have any reputation they liked. As long as the girls in the neighborhood thought he was a fox, he was safe. All he really cared about though, was how Steve thought of him. "I'm just glad to be here with my best guy," the dark-haired man ran a thumb tenderly along Steve's sharp cheekbone, memorizing the features of his pale face for a millionth time. It never got old.

Steve lay there helpless as he tried to catch his breath. All his body wanted to do now was pass out with Bucky in his arms. But he wasn't about to let this night end so soon. He held his friend's face close to him, not wanting to let go. He didn't know how to tell him what he was feeling, so he just said, "Yes. Please."

He watched as the man slipped out of his trousers. He was surprised to hear Bucky had put so much effort into his appearance. Steve just assumed that looking good was his natural state of being. "Heh. I don't really know what I'm doing." He feigned ignorance. Though honestly he never had to try with Bucky. Everything just came naturally.

Steve gazed at the specimen before him, exposed as he was. He wished he could be as comfortable with his body as Bucky was. He was instantly turned on again and couldn't decide what to do with his friend first. Best take things slow, he thought. He held Bucky's face in his hand and kissed him gently. All the while sliding his other hand down the man's chest, brushing his nails against a nipple teasingly, finally reaching his erection. His own member twitched with excitement as he stroked his friend slowly. "I'm up for everything, Buck."

Bucky watched the minute indication of emotions and thoughts playing across Steve's angular face, his body hot and ready to go, but his heart felt soft and exposed. The older man snorted softly at his friend's claim that he wasn't certain what he was doing. True or not, he never failed to please Bucky. It was a blessing. Steve seemed overstimulated, so the dark-haired man prepared himself to back down if he needed to. All he cared about was his friend's comfort. "Hey, buddy, we don't have to do anything, honest. It's not a big deal," Bucky flashed a friendly smile, showing Steve he wasn't just saying these things to be nice, "I'm perfectly happy with everything. It's been a long day, I understand if you wanna -"

When the other man reached forward to touch his face, Bucky braced himself, but the overwhelming emotions still crashed through him, making his breath stutter awkwardly in his excitement. He bit his lips and had to concentrate to open and raise his eyes to back Steve's pale countenance, not allowing himself to hide from the moment. As the kiss was given however, Bucky couldn't help it as his eyelashes fluttered shut, his heart jumping into his throat. God, he was a goner.

Bucky tried to choke back the whimper that sprung loose when Steve's soft hand curled around him, but it escaped him between kisses, his body melting under the attention. He'd not had another hand on him in the month or so Steve had been nursing his mother. Bucky had been there for a lot of it, but Steve often insisted on being alone, and the older man knew when he really needed it. It'd been the most difficult thing in his life, letting Steve deal with something on his own, especially after taking care of him for so long, but it had brought them closer in the end. His nickname falling from Steve's lips was enough to steal the air from his lungs, he'd never get used to the connection he felt from such a simple thing. It was a battle to find a breath.

Shuddering in delight under the careful touch, Bucky couldn't contain his small cries and hisses as the pleasure trickled and then welled up inside him. Between panting, gentle kisses he languidly arched his hips into the small but firm palm, remembering the pottery class they'd taken together, and the way he'd admired Steve's control of his slight hands. "This is perfect Stevie, yeah, just like that," Bucky could barely contain his need, fighting with himself to keep it tame, though really what he wanted he was never going to ask for. Instead, he compromised.

"Lemme get you back," he mumbled against the blonde's kiss swollen mouth, slippery from their saliva and delicious as ever. Scooting closer he reached down between them and gathered Steve's cock up, patiently stroking him back to full mast, grinning in triumph as he managed it without losing himself to the thrill of it. Tangling their legs together he got close enough for their erections to meet, and pressed, nudging their hips in as tightly as they could manage.

"I want to feel more of you," he whispered as he began to nibble along Steve's neck, the elation of being so intimate again running away with his senses. Steve was slight enough that Bucky could slip an arm under the man's body to hold him closer even as he cupped his friend's hand and began to touch as much as he could of all that lay in the valley of their bodies. It was intoxicating, and it required a lot of his concentration not to get carried away.

The more Steve gave him the less he could contain himself. He began to shiver, his mind becoming sloshy as he neared his release, all the things he had to bite back fighting to escape his arousal reddened lips. Bucky began to lose his grip on all of it, squeezing his eyes shut as he couldn't bring himself to care anymore, thrusting into Steve's fist with abandon. "I'm gonna - ah Steve, I can't - oh god, yes, please -" Bucky's last word was a pitiful moan, scraping out of his strained throat as he finally shuddered, spilling hot and wet against his best friend. His face was buried in Steve's neck, the skin there moist and splotchy from Bucky's teeth and suckling kisses. The older man didn't care though, relieved as he was that he hadn't given away the depth of his true desires. It was time to get back in character.

"Jesus Steve, you almost had me with that bit about needing pointers," Bucky fought to breathe as he rolled over to lay on his back, sweaty and satisfied for the first time in weeks. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he finally began to relax, realizing he'd been carrying around a lot more stress than he'd known. "Good one buddy, ya got me."

Steve delighted in every thrust Bucky made into his slender fingers. It elated him to be able to give his friend such pleasure. He was surprised Bucky still wanted to stimulate him back, but his body was still responsive and the feeling was too blissful to deny. It didn't take long for the blood to rush back and make him hard again. The feel of Bucky's cock against his made him throb with lust.

Steve's hands wandered all over Bucky's body. His hips instinctively grinding against his friend's. Their hands stroking themselves and each other in unison. As Steve felt Bucky's orgasm approaching, he focused on the head of the man's erection, giving it all that he could. He held his friend tight as he came in his hand. It was so intoxicating that Steve himself felt another release, spilling what was left inside him to mix with Bucky's on his stomach.

They clung their shuddering bodies together in post-coital bliss. Steve smiled at Bucky's teasing. He could barely move. He felt he would be content lying there with his friend until they had enough energy to go again. This was suddenly the most important thing to him in his life. Even after coming twice. Steve never wanted to let Bucky go. "What can I say? You bring the best out of me."

"Is that what this is?" Bucky kidded brightly, holding up his wet hand, eyes half-lidded and heavy from his lingering orgasm. Without a second thought the older man gave his fingertips a lick, his enjoyment of the moment causing him to act instead of think. He didn't care though, for that few minutes after they shared something like that, he figured he was allowed to be a little weird.

With a laugh he dropped his hand and pulled Steve close once more, suckling at Steve's mouth languidly, simply enjoying the sensation. When he pulled back he hummed his appreciation of the contact, licking his lips pointedly, "Tasty. This counted as dessert, right? I hope you're up for seconds." Bucky joked smoothly, leaning over Steve like he was going to climb on top of him, only to grab up the cookies from their forgotten place on the night stand and settle back into his previous spot.

"Gotta keep my boy fed," he teased, pressing one of the baked goods to Steve's slightly agape mouth, raising his eyebrows in expectation. "I maybe kinda lied a little when I said my mom made these ya know… I might've been trying my hand at it." Bucky bit his bottom lip in anticipation, feeling exposed at revealing his secret. Suddenly he felt terribly nervous. Bucky shrugged then, like he didn't care if Steve ended up hating them, "Ma says I used too much cinnamon. I just...I wanted to do something nice for you."

Steve managed a laugh as he tried to catch his breath. The way Bucky was so casual with this made him bashful, but it gave him hope. As though this was something he could get used to.

He nearly cried when Bucky climbed atop him asking for seconds. He wanted it more than anything, but his body couldn't take anymore, and he didn't want to give his friend the wrong idea. Steve was relieved when he came back with cookies. He reached for one hungrily, but Bucky beat him to it, as the cookie was pushed suggestively into his mouth. He laughed again, nearly spilling the cookie all over the bed, but he caught himself and took a bite.

His first thought was that Mrs. Barnes must have improved her recipe. He ate the whole thing hungrily as Bucky made his confession. Steve couldn't believe his friend had done something so thoughtful. He placed a hand on Bucky's as he swallowed as much of it as he could.

"Bucky, you're the best friend a guy could have. And your baking is top notch. I'm not just saying that. I'd say your mom doesn't use enough cinnamon." He managed to muster up enough courage to kiss his friend tenderly on the forehead. "Thank you."

Bucky had to duck his head to hide that his eyes were beginning to shine with the promise of tears at Steve's show of affection. "Ahhhh, it was nothing," he acted like the was feigning sheepishness, but he genuinely felt exposed, his cheeks burning hot. God, he was acting like a girl with a crush. They were only cookies, it wasn't a marriage proposal. Hell, they weren't even going steady. Not like that was even an option for them.

The logical thoughts were painfully sobering, and the harshness of reality helped his eyes to dry before they spilled a single tear. "There are a dozen more back home, I guess I wanted to see if you even liked them before I offered them up," the older man shrugged, finally meeting their gazes again. "You don't' have to move right away or anything. I mean, it'll take a couple days to clean up and then there's the moving. Pops says we can borrow the truck," Bucky laid back then, looking up at the familiar ceiling, thinking of all the times he'd laid there in Steve's arms and felt so much desire and confusion over what they were doing. In the end though, he always was glad for it.

"I know rent's paid up 'til next month. Ma's said you can come along anytime though," the words were out of his mouth before he'd realized he'd never brought the subject up with Steve that day. It'd simply been an assumption in his mind that that was the plan, that was what they were working towards. He'd briefly forgotten how stubborn Steve could be. He wanted to kick himself.

Bucky winced, bracing himself for the impending argument. "Before you say anything, I know that's not your plan. I know you want to strike off on your own but Steve, you're family. We want you to live with us, there's no reason for you to go it alone. The fact of the matter is, I'm not gonna be here in a few weeks, and Ma's expecting you to take my room." He'd fully intended not to bring up the subject of the army again after his confession, but there it was. At this point he'd say whatever he had to to know that Steve had a place to stay where he could keep an eye on him.

Steve was genuinely impressed with Bucky's thoughtfulness. He knew it must have taken the man a lot of work to make such delicious treats for him. It gave him a warm feeling in his heart.

Bucky's mention of moving threw him off guard. Steve assumed he was talking about helping him find an apartment until he brought up his mother. The smaller man just listened in confusion as he watched panic fill the eyes of his friend. He wanted Steve to stay at his place? He wasn't sure he could accept that. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he didn't want to be a burden. "I... Are you sure, Bucky? That seems like a huge strain to put on your poor parents."

He could tell Bucky was already anticipating his refusal. Steve saw something in his friend's eyes that was unmistakable. He was not going to take no for an answer. What choice did he have? Mrs. Barnes was like a mother to him. And Bucky... Honestly he couldn't imagine not being with the man as much as possible until he left. He would just have to swallow his pride.

"If you insist, I can't refuse. Honestly the sooner I can get out of this place the better. That is, if you don't mind sharing your room."

"Never been a problem before," Bucky could feel the relief settling over him like a calming blanket. He'd honestly never expected Steve to agree. "Who are you and what have you done with Steve Rogers?" he kidded even as he scooted closer, emboldened by the acceptance of his offer. He stole a kiss, then rolled away to lighten the mood, figuring there was only so much he could get away with. Steve enjoyed a little stimulation as much as any guy, but if Bucky came on too strong he was sure their friendship would suffer.

Clearing his throat he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, straightening his clothes a bit. "Well there's no hurry. My room's not going anywhere. Besides, I figured you'd wanna take advantage of your privacy while you have the chance. I mean, unless you think you can keep quiet?" Bucky raised a brow pointedly, silently reminding Steve of the time they'd messed around at his place and got a little too into it. Bucky's mother had come to the rescue, inquiring after Steve's moaning, and the boys had to make up some story about too much ice cream. It was nearly a disaster. Funny now of course, but at the time, no laughing matter.

"We've got some time before I go. We're going to the gym for sure. And you should go ahead and finish up that last semester of French without me. On the bright side, you won't have to share books with me anymore," Bucky teased, remembering how irritated Steve could get when the older man would scribble in the blank columns relentlessly. Bucky stripped off his button up shirt then, leaving on his white tank, but thought better of it and yanked it over his head too. He used it to clean up the mess drying on his stomach, then tossed it to Steve.

"I'm beat. I dunno about you but it's been a long day. I can take the couch," he started gathering his things, planning on giving the other man his much needed space, and flashed him a friendly smile to offset the fact that he was indeed standing unabashedly in the nude.

Steve felt his face flush as Bucky kissed him. He hoped he hadn't been too forward. Everything was happening so fast now. All he could think about was his best friend leaving him. But Bucky was being so cavalier as always. Steve didn't want to make him worry, surely the man was going through enough emotional conflict. So Steve did his best to keep his feelings in check.

Steve placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Well we could always come back here if we need to get away," he teased, "I just feel like it'd be easier to adapt if I were there with you." And he had to admit to himself that the loneliness was getting to him.

He was very much looking forward to the lessons with Bucky. Steve always felt inferior when it came to his fighting skills. He knew he had some learning to do. Continuing his French lessons however, suddenly felt inconsequential. He knew Bucky would never let him quit, though. So he decided to keep his mouth shut.

Steve caught Bucky's shirt and wiped himself off. His exhaustion was starting to catch up with him as well. He watched as the larger man stood naked in front of him. Such a perfect specimen. He realized he had to say something now or he'd forever regret it.

"You... You don't have to go. If you don't want to."

Bucky had busied himself picking up his scattered clothing, stepping around the many boxes now settled here and there around the room. He shrugged as his friend spoke, nodding in agreement. "Alright, if you're sure. I'll hold you to that if you feel like messing around," Bucky couldn't hide his smug smile, knowing there was no way Steve could keep the presence of mind to prevent his mother or father hearing them, should anything happen. And when they were alone, things usually happened. Bucky was sorely aware he was always the one initiating things, but Steve went along with it, and he was grateful to have such a superb friend.

When Steve's voice met his ears again Bucky blinked a bit in genuine surprise, but didn't let it show too much. "Yeah, okay. If you're sure it won't bug you." The older man's tone was flippant, but his chest ached something fierce. Steve was hurting bad, had to be, to reach out in a way he never had before. It worried Bucky immensely. "Move over, big guy," he teased affectionately, brushing a hand over Steve's soft blonde hair as he slid into the small bed beside his ailing best friend.

It took him a moment to get comfortable, but when he did his back faced the other man, Bucky doing what he could to not take up too much space. "I'm out, buddy. But I'm here if you need me," the bigger man muttered sleepily, shrugging his shoulder a bit as the chill night air nipped at it.

Steve was relieved when Bucky agreed to sleeping with him. He didn't know what had come over him. He'd spent practically every night of his life sleeping alone in his bed, but something told him that if he let his friend stay on the couch, Steve would be up all night worrying about him.

He slid over in the bed to make room for the larger man, pulling down the covers in an attempt to air out the sheets after their recent tussle. "Thanks, Buck. Good night." Steve could feel his cheeks flushing as they lay beside one another. It was strange, but it felt right, somehow. He set his head on the pillow and stared at his friend's back, trying to sort out his feelings, but lying on the comfy bed was too distracting and soon his exhaustion took the better of him.

#stucky #fanfiction #fanfic #stucky fic #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes #steve rogers #chapter 1

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