#edit actually the WORST part of being a college student is i made the idiot move of choosing one of the tall presses
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dullahandyke · 1 year ago
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all fun and games being a college student until youre lookin at recipes like 'i dont have a knife that isnt a butter knife. i only have one pot and no pan. making me buy two different types of oil seems like a scam. can i freeze homemade wedges if i make them'
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kweebtrash · 5 years ago
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Why Stop Now (M)
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Pairing:  JohnnyxYutaxReader
Genre: PWP, One Shot, College Au (barely)
Summary: I literally just wanted to write about getting DP’d hardcore with my bias and wrecker. that’s it. It’s just fucking, short and sweet
Word Count: 4.2k
Features:  blowjob, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, anal, squirting, grinding, a smidge of public sex, a little bit of overstretching, 
A/N: Probs will edit some more later like tomorrow when I’m not so tired.
MasterlIst  Buy me a Ko-Fi    
It was a mistake coming here tonight. I didn’t want to be surrounded by a house full of idiots but I most certainly didn't want to run into my ex. Lucas was currently the bane of my existence after I caught him cheating on me at a party similar to this. The moment I saw him I took to drinking my sorrows away in order to forget. I hoped I looked good enough to ever make him regret being the world's biggest asshole to me. The unfortunate part was that I hadn't really eaten much for a good part of the day and the alcohol hit me harder than I wanted it to. I slowed down and worked through clusters of people to head upstairs and rest in Taeyong's bedroom. I hoped it wasnt occupied with a fucking couple as I didn't need war flashbacks to top off my already sour mood. His room was thankfully barren and I closed the door and set the lock.
The bed looked perfect for me to just take a quiet nap and I shuffled slowly to the mattress before throwing myself across it. I wanted my head to stop spinning a bit so I could start making good decisions. Once I was a bit more sober I would head home instead of wallowing in misery and chatting with guys I had slept with in the past. Almost the entirety of my track record was in attendance here which was the cherry on top of my clusterfuck sundae. There was Taeil from my college writing class, Taeyong, the host of the party, from my media class, Jaehyun from the Student Democrats club, and I was sure my most frequent suitors, Johnny and Yuta were floating around somewhere. All in all I was making mistake after mistake in the grand scheme of things.
I shut my eyes and tried to focus on sleep but the music was still too loud even through the closed door and I could hear voices pouring in from the open window. Those voices sounded way too familiar and I winced the moment I recognized them. I hoped to all hell they didn't notice me in the room as they were sitting on the mid roof right outside of Taeyong's bedroom. I curled up and tried to stay as quiet as possible but my plan failed entirely when I heard my name called out in a weed induced slur.
"Heyyyy baby! What are you doing here?!" Yuta giggled.
"Fuck I haven't seen you in forever!" Johnny added.
I grumbled and squeezed my eyes tighter. "Leave me alone. I hit the bottle too hard and I need to sleep it off for a bit."
"Ooh did you see Lucas downstairs? Is that it?" Yuta asked.
I stayed quiet, refusing to answer. 
"Yup," Johnny said. "Definitely saw Lucas. Come here babe. We'll help you get your mind off it."
"Absolutely not." I said, finally sitting up. "You two are the worst trouble makers of them all. I don't need you trying to play games tonight."
"When have we ever played games?!" Yuta took a long drag from the joint he and Johnny had been sharing. 
"Hmm, let's see, leaving me on read, ghosting me, dumping me out of your room after we were done fucking, being complete fuckboys. The list goes on, truly."
"We're not that bad! Besides...you always come back for more, don't you?" Johnny smirked.
My face flared up instantly at his truth filled statement. Little fucker. "Be quiet." I snapped. "That's not the point."
"Yeah, your point should be coming out here and joining us. The breeze is much better up here and it's not as hot as it is in the house."
Yuta was right. The summer weather had been unforgiving especially when a couple dozen people were crammed in a small two story house. The breeze was coming in nicely through the windows and I contemplated actually going out there in hopes that the air would help clear my head.. I sighed and used the bed for leverage to crawl out the window and sit on the roof area. Yuta passed the blunt to Johnny and I laid back against the paneling, staring down at the mess of people on the lawn.
"We've been people watching all night. That dude on the left has been trying to get in this chicks pants for like an hour now. It ain't gonna happen." Johnny laughed.
"Hmm, he doesn't look like he's got game. I wouldn't sleep with him."
"What he's not your type? I thought you liked big dumb idiots?"
"I mean that's why I fucked you, didn't I?" I smirked at Johnny who glared at me.
Yuta snorted and laid back with me, clasping his hands behind his head. "This party blows. Taeyong's cool and all but something needs to happen."
"What would you even want to happen?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Something. Anything. I could get laid or be at home stuffing my face with frozen burritos and passing the fuck out."
"That sounds so titillating."
Johnny snorted. "Heh, tittle."
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, you giant man child."
"Do you wanna hook up?" Yuta asked suddenly. He was never one for subtlety.
"Uh...like right now? I still kinda feel like crap."
"Fucking will help with that. We could all fuck." Johnny propositioned.
"Like a threesome?" I looked between the two of the as they shrugged, playing it off real cool. I blushed hard not knowing how to respond. It wasn't something I really had experience in but Yuta and Johnny were my two favorite people to fuck. Johnny was commanding and a little rough with a secretive soft side that poked through every once in awhile. Yuta was dirty to the core, bending me every which way and unabashed at anything he suggested we do. Things usually ended up messy with him but I never thought about fucking the two together. Having Johnny's thickness invade every inch of me while Yuta fucked me from behind; being so completely stuffed that my stomach would clench and I could feel so whole and perfectly ruined. I bit my lip and pressed my thighs together as scenes began to flourish in my mind.
"Hello?" Yuta snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Did you hear us?
"Huh? Uh...yeah, the hookup. Threesome. Um, I've never had a threesome before." I admitted shyly.
"I had one once but it wasn't that great. Dude was hogging the chick the whole time. So Yuta if you pull that shit I'm dipping out."
"Trust me dude. I've got my own plans. You can do whatever you want to her pus-"
I slapped my hand over his mouth, keeping him from saying that vile word. "We get it. You want to fuck my ass."
"You do that?" Johnny questioned.
I sighed and laid back down. "Only with Yuta. He gets excited over it and we'll
"
"She literally cums so hard when we do it. Don't let her fool you, she's just as big of a slut as I am."
"Shut up, asshole! I am not. Well...maybe a little but you don't have to point it out."
"Alright, let's cut the crap. Threesome of not? It's been awhile since you've gotten fucked, right? You and Lucas broke up like a month or so ago." Johnny said.
"Yeah, don't remind me
"
"Agree to fuck us and we'll make sure we can help you forget." Yuta said.
I sighed and gave in, too easily for my liking but the images I created where already burned into my mind. "Sure, why the fuck not."
Yuta said no more and dove to capture my neck in slow and methodical kisses, nibbling ever once in awhile. Johnny's large hand was working itself over my stomach as he leaned down to capture me in a kiss. His lips were so fucking amazing that sometimes it made my heart ache to have them against me. They were full, soft, and he knew exactly how to work them so I would get wet in an instant. I parted my lips and let his thick tongue creep into my mouth, sucking on my own and making sure I couldn't breathe. His fingers wiggled beneath the hem of my shirt and pushed it upwards to expose my chest to the cool breeze.
"Whoa, wait. We can't do it out here!" I whispered harshly.
"Shhh, it's just the beginning. We'll finish everything inside; we need the room anyway. For now I just want you legs spread open and to see if we can make you squirt off the rooftop." Yuta said deviously.
"D-dont you fucking dare!" My face was red at the thought but it shook me to my core. I ached for them to prove that they could make my body do such things.
"Take them off, Yuta." Johnny commanded. 
Yuta slipped his hand under my skirt to grab a hold of my panties and yank them down. I fumbled to try and keep them on, embarrassed that someone might see us but they got tossed to Johnny who pocketed them with a teasing smile. My legs were forced open then, the front clasp of my bra worked apart, so every tender area was exposed. Johnny latched his lips around my nipple, sucking deeply as his long middle finger trailed up the length of my slit. "She's already starting to get wet."
"Of course she is. Told you she was dirty." Yuta commented.
"If you two don't stop talking I'm going to-" I gasped softly as I felt Johnny push his finger inside me. It was slow and precise, dragging up and down my walls to work me up even more. He went back to teasing my breast while Yuta licked his fingers and set them over my clit. He circled them over the sensitive spot, pairing it with more bites to my neck that flowed down to my chest. I didn't know where to even put my hands at this point and I was already arching slightly against all their teasing. I felt Johnny hook his ankle over mine and nudge my leg to rest between his strong thighs. The center of his jeans pressed against the junction of my knee and thigh and he rocked against me, creating as much friction as possible. He moaned deeply against my chest and I couldn't help how frenzied it made my brain.
Yuta nudged his free hand between us, grabbing a hold on my wrist and guiding me to touch him. My fingers rubbed against the denim, feeling the way he was starting to bulge beneath the fabric. I closed my eyes then, letting my senses get overridden by their exploring hands and tongues. Johnny licked his way up my neck so his lips could rest by my ear. "I know you like getting stretched out but how many fingers do you think we can fit in there before you cum." He whispered in his slightly deepened voice. I turned away from him, trying to hide how embarrassed his words were making me and ended up catching Yuta's lips instead. Johnny chuckled softly as he watched my lips get occupied but someone else and shoved another finger inside me. With how big his hands were just those couple of digits had my entrance already working to accommodate him. 
Yuta scissored my lower lips open while the tip of his middle finger curled little strokes against my clit, leaving me open for more sensitivity. My hips bucked then and I squirmed, trying to move away for a moment to regain my composure. Pressure was building within the pit of my stomach as I could feel that orgasm creeping closer. As I tried to close my free leg, Yuta trapped it between his thighs, mimicking Johnny so I couldn't hide even if I tried. Anyone could look up and see me half naked and getting fingered to all hell and back. I knew they weren't going to let me go until I came. My breath burned in my lungs as I couldn't seem to catch it but I was just able to pant out a little beg. "P-please, m-more."
Yuta's fingers joined Johnny's then, forcing two more into me. While Johnny kept steady thrusts, Yuta curled his fingers in a beckoning motion, trying to dig the harshest reaction out of me. "Touch yourself." He commanded, adding a small nip to the shell of my ear afterward. I took over the attention to my clit while their fingers explored and bodies grinded against my thighs. My lower half trembled with the threat of release and I clamped my lips shut so I wouldn't draw attention from the other partygoers below. Both my nipples were overtaken by their mouths again just as I felt increased attention to a particularly sensitive spot within me. I grabbed at Yuta's hand to make sure he stayed in place and commanded Johnny to go faster. My own fingers increased speed as I heard my wetness echoing into the night. 
My toes were curling within my shoes, my body dipping against the panelling, and suddenly a rush of absolute bliss washed over me. I shuddered hard, my body practically collapsing in on itself as I slapped at their hands to try and remove the intensity. They didn't let up, becoming greedy for the way my body was creating splashes down the rooftop. I finally grabbed their hands and pushed them away to snap my legs shut and breathe. I muttered out curses while Johnny and Yuta were all smiles and cheers, high fiving each other in victory of my glorious and wet defeat.
"Damn, I didn't think you could actually do it!" Johnny said as excited as a puppy.
"Dude, I told you! That was fucking hot!"
I wanted to ask myself why I put up with their absolutely idiotic tendencies. They were stupid college kids with minds wrapped around partying, getting drunk or high, and getting laid. Nothing remotely appealing about that- then I was harshly reminded why I sought out their company when Johnny's bulge grazed against me again. When I glanced down I could tell that his jeans were trying desperately to keep him contained and he would be growling in my ear at any moment if he didn't get more attention. "We need to get inside." Johnny grunted right on cue. Yuta nodded and crawled up to the open window, tossing himself inside. Johnny and I followed suit and we were a clash of kisses and tongues, pulling off the rest of our clothes until my head was between Johnny's thighs and Yuta had my ass raised.
He shuffled around, rifling through Taeyong's drawers, looking intently for something. I was curious as to what he was doing but still currently occupied by the way Johnny filled my mouth entirely. I swallowed around him and gripped at his base to try and prevent him from thrusting harshly. He was always trying to get me to deep throat him but I couldn't take everything at once. It would usually end in a glaring contest with his hand firmly pushing my hand down until I tapped out. This time he seemed to be a little bit gentle and focused instead on the way my lips looked flowing over his thickness.
Yuta finally came back after a victorious exclamation. He had found whatever he was looking for and finally joined us on the bed. My hole was perfectly presented for him and I felt the familiar chill of lube against me. That must have been what he had been searching for in Taeyong's drawers. I sighed around my mouthful as his fingertip nudged against the barrier, slowly rocking until he poked through. His slender finger was enough to make me whimper and reach back to tap his outer thigh when I needed breaks. He was always good about that and filled our pauses with kisses up my spine or his thumb grazing the entrance of my heat. Eventually he was able to work his knuckle in and get a consistent rhythm going.
I popped off of Johnny when I felt his pre cum splatter across my taste buds, making sure he didn't get too worked up. He fumbled around for his pants that had been discarded on the floor, getting into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a condom. He ripped it open and I helped roll it on, kissing the tip playfully. "Yuta, let her move up to my lap." Johnny demanded.
Yuta scooted us closer so I could straddle Johnny and he could remain behind me to work my ass open. As Johnny slid his cock through my wetness, Yuta started to pry a second finger into me. He added a bit more lube and latched his teeth onto my shoulder, his other hand coming to cup my breast and make small pinches at my nipple. Johnny grabbed onto my hips, lifting me just a bit so I could sink down on his length. I bit down on my lip as soon as I felt that heavy fullness even within my stomach. He let out a moan from deep within his chest, head tossed back against the pillow and lips parted slightly. My bounces were small at first, giving Yuta a pace he could still work with as I desperately needed them both in me at the same time. I wished he could hurry up but patience, time, and dedication were needed for him to fuck me senseless.
The second finger made its way in fully and I felt the slight sting of my muscles trying to accommodate him. I took a few deep breaths, letting him push forward on every exhale. He scissored his fingers little by little, chuckling when he saw me gaped open. My cheeks burned as I knew he loved seeing me spread apart for him. I elbowed him gently, trying to get him to stop as my embarrassment continued. His lips were by my ear whispering the softest of teases. "You look so good like this I couldn't help myself."
"Yeah, we'll save your tired old lines for-" My hand flew to my mouth to cover a harsh gasp that was about to escape. Johnny had bucked his hips particularly hard to gain my attention. His brows were furrowed in irritation and he landed a heavy slap on my ass.
"Less talking, more working." He grunted.
I pouted but rolled my hips, feeling Johnny's cock press against my walls while Yuta curled his fingers deep within me. It was getting easier for him to work me open and the third finger edged in almost seamlessly. With each roll of my hips I was fucking myself back against them, squeezing my eyes shut and trying not to be too loud. I was sure the music would cover me but I didn't need the possibility of Taeyong coming in and see us defiling his bed.
Johnny dug his fingers into my thighs as he increased his pace. Heated skin on skin echoed throughout the room, mixing in with his slightly animalistic grunts and groans. Yuta gently rubbed my ass making my heart race as I knew what was next. "You ready?" He asked with a bit of concern. 
I nodded and turned my head for a kiss, his lips morphing into a smile as soon as we connected. "Dude, slow down a sec." Yuta told Johnny who seemed peeved at the request. He stopped his motions entirely as Yuta bent me over Johnny's torso. I heard the rip of his own condom packet and a few moments later he was lined up against me, thumbs spreading my asscheeks apart. Once his head creeped in past the barrier I buried my face deep into Johnny's neck, whimpering helplessly. 
"You ok?" He asked. I nodded, content that the both of them were showing their soft sides of being concerned for my well-being. It was a breath of fresh air given their usual antics.
"I got her. We've done this before." Yuta reassured the other man. More and more of me was filled, making my legs almost give out from their place over Johnny’s hips. All I could scream was 'oh god' in my head over and over and when Yuta finally was in the three of us groaned at the intense tight feeling surrounding around us.
"Please just fuck me." I said. I didnt want to waste anymore time as I needed my body turned into a pillar of pleasure between them. Yuta was the first to thrust and he grabbed a hold of my arms, pulling them behind me like reins to control his pace. Once Johnny joined in my eyes got lost in the back of my head and I was in a whirlwind of bliss. Each slam of their bodies into me created pressure that sent tingles throughout my entire being. I tried to keep up but it was hard to press into them when my body was getting destroyed. Veins and ridges crept up my walls, dragging through nerves and places I didn't think they could have ever reached. My thighs quaked as weakness set in but my lust wouldn’t be satisfied until I felt the warm heat of their cum inside me.
Johnny gripped my neck gently, nudging his thumb to lift my chin up so our lips could crash together. It was a sloppy mess of tangled breaths and soft groans, our tongues trying to stay melded as he fucked me harder. I clenched around him, bucking slightly when he pushed through the tightness. My second orgasm was approaching way too fast but there was no way to stop it. I pressed my forehead to Johnny, his whisper against my lips now. "Fuck, I wanna come for you."
"Don't say it just do it." I pleaded. 
Suddenly I was yanked back to be pressed against Yuta's chest. "You complained about that other dude hogging chicks and now you’re doing the same thing. Share a little." He chuckled.
"F-fuck you!" Johnny managed to groan out as he started to swell against my tightness.
"Such a cop out, cumming first." Yuta turned my face towards his, getting a taste of my lips again. He was thrusting upwards, getting every inch of him to slam into me relentlessly. He parted from me to replace his tongue with the pads of his index and middle finger. They pressed down on my tongue and I sucked hungrily around them. "You want me to touch you?" He teased. I nodded vigorously. If he added that extra magical sensation to my clit we'd all be a symphony of chaotic messes. He shoved his fingers in deeper, almost touching the back of my throat before teasing the digits back out slowly.
He worked them down between my breasts and towards my stomach until they met my clit and worked steady circles into me. Occasionally, he would tease my entrance, getting his fingertip in besides Johnny's cock and crooking his finger just an inch or so inside me. My eyes squeezed shut as I couldn't help but left let a loud moan run free, practically screaming for him not to stop. Johnny forced through one last sloppy thrust, raising his hips so his cock crashed against the deepest part of me, and spilled all he had within the rubber. I still felt that comforting heat through my lower belly and a smile crossed my lips. God, I needed that again and again. Yuta still was vibrant as ever, continuing to ravish me until my body tensed and flushed with warmth. I clenched my thighs around Johnny’s waist as my next orgasm gushed out, leaving trails across his abs. “F-fuck, s-sorry.” I whispered. He shook his head and sat up, cupping my face to kiss my lips and tired body. I held onto him as I could barely keep up with Yuta though I could feel him ready to lose himself at any moment as well.
“Don’t be sorry. You felt so fucking good.” He purred as he slipped out of me slowly. He gave me a wink as Yuta began his greed tirade of final thrusts, bending me over completely and ramming my ass back against him. Johnny watched us, making sure my head was turned towards him so he could see every expression of pain and pleasure on my face. I curled my fingers around the wrinkled bed sheets whimpering out Yuta’s name. His hips stuttered and his blunt nails dug into my skin as he burst within me, shoving his sheathed released as far down as he could. Johnny laid back and Yuta pulled out, flopping beside me. I could finally give my body the break it deserved as my lustful greed was quelled for now.
“Not gonna lie, I kinda missed that.” Johnny said.
Yuta hummed in agreement which got me thinking. We did all have good chemistry together and it was all for fun and after the hell I went through fun was exactly what I deserved. “Should we do it again? Like hook up? The three of us?” He asked.
“Well we’ve all fucked and then had this threesome so why stop now?”
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xbaepsae · 6 years ago
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private tutor | part one
“You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, ‘Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.’ The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, ‘Anything?’”
[tutor!namjoon x reader]
genre: college!au, humor
word count: 3.8k
a/n: sooo, another reupload! originally, i only posted 2/3 parts because i never got around to finishing the final part aksjkajksd. but i’m working on that lol. in the meantime, i edited this part and part two will be up soon. enjoy! xoxo
part one / part two / part three
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Well, this is awkward.
You had always considered yourself to be a rather good student. You made decently good grades in all of your classes and tried to attend them on a daily basis, but what you had not anticipated was this: a failing grade in chemistry. A big, fat red F marked the top of your grade report, and you had to do a double take to make sure you were seeing things right.
Not once in your life have you ever made anything below a C. This had to be the devil’s work, you were sure of it. Was it even possible to make an F? You put in effort into this class—it wasn’t like you weren’t trying.
“Y/n, you’re failing my class.”
Looking up at your professor, you can only manage a sheepish smile. “I can see that
”
“Care to explain?”
Biting your lip, you don’t really know what to say. Well, what could you really say? You thought that you were doing well in the class, but apparently you were assuming wrong. “I don’t really know.”
Your professor sighs, “Is it the concepts we’re learning in class? Are you not understanding them?”
“No, no,” you shake your head, “I understand the basics, but I guess when you ask us to apply everything together
I’m not really seeing the big picture.”
If you were to be honest with yourself, you absolutely hated chemistry. The basics—like the elements on the periodic table and electrons—were easy enough; but once different concepts got combined, your brain became a jumbled mess. A lot of math was involved and you hated that too. You really didn’t know why you had to take this class anyway because you for sure did not want to pursue a degree or future job in this field.
“The end of the grading period is coming up,” your professor says. “It’s going to be quite difficult to bring up that grade.”
You look at her desperately, “There has to be something. Please help me!”
There was no way you were going to have an F on your transcripts. It was only your first year of college and getting a failing grade definitely would not be a great way to start. Even though you don’t like this class, you don’t want it to ruin the rest of your college career.
“I would love to help you, but I can’t with finals coming up.” You frown at her words, feeling dejected.
“Do you have tutors?” you ask.
She nods, “Yes, but I’m sure that they’re all booked for the rest of the semester already.”
This cannot be happening right now. “Please professor; I can’t fail your class.”
It’s embarrassing how desperate you are right now. You’re practically begging the woman for something that was completely your fault. You can’t help but think back to every mistake you made on the tests and wonder why you didn’t study harder. For a second, you also contemplate the pros and cons of dropping out. It wouldn’t be that bad, right?
“Well, there might be something,” she says and suddenly all thoughts of dropping out fade away. You look at her almost too eagerly and ask what that certain something is. “I have this student who isn’t a tutor of mine, per se, but he did ace my class.”
Your optimism dims a little, “He isn’t a chem tutor?”
“No, he’s actually a philosophy major,” your professor says and you start thinking about dropping out again, “but he is very intelligent and does well in all subjects, y/n. I’m nearly positive he will offer to help you before this final.”
Great. Your only hope was someone who wasn’t even a chemistry major. “Who is he?”
Your professors smiles before telling you his name.
***
Kim Namjoon. You practice saying his name a few times out loud.
According to your chemistry professor, he is a third-year student, set to graduate a semester early or something, and a philosophy major. He had apparently made a perfect A+ in her class and was some kind of genius. However, that was the extent of the knowledge you possessed about him. In your short few months here, you have never run into anyone named Kim Namjoon—you didn’t even know what he looks like.
Your professor just told you who he was and where you might find him, which could literally be anywhere on campus. And, in all honesty, you felt kind of hopeless. Finals were less than a month away and you still don’t know how you're going to pass. As you left your professor’s office and walk back to your dorm room, you feel more confused than ever.
Where are you supposed to find Namjoon?
“How’d your meeting go?” your roommate, Ara, asks.
You shut the door behind you, “Horrible.”
“It can’t be that bad,” she smiles. “What, are you failing or something?”
When you fall onto your bed and turn to give her a look, she curses and you can’t help but agree. “I’m completely done for.”
“And it’s only the first semester—if you’re struggling now, imagine how it’ll be the next three years
”
You groan into your pillows, “Imdroppingout.”
Ara sighs, “You’re being too hard on yourself. All you need is a C to pass. You know what they say—C’s gets degrees.”
“Howaisuppdtogtac?” you ask, but Ara can’t understand a word you say so you raise your head and repeat: how am I supposed to get a C?
“Did you ask for extra credit or help?”
You sit up and lean your back against the wall. “No one fucking gives extra credit anymore; this is college, not grade school where you can bring your teacher an apple and get five points added to your test.”
“Truth,” your roommate nods, “these college professors are savage.”
“But I did ask for help,” you say. “She’s apparently too busy to help me though.”
Ara sighs and gives you a look of sympathy. “Worst case scenario will be that you have to retake chem...”
The thought of having to take that class again makes death seem much more appealing. There was no way you were about to step foot into that lecture hall again or sit in another lab. You just wanted to put chemistry behind you already. Life was way too short to be worrying so much about one damn class.
“My professor actually recommended me a tutor,” you tell your roommate and her ears perk up immediately.
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” she looks at you like you’re an idiot, which you evidently are.
“He’s not a chem major,” you try to explain.
Ara just nods, “Okay, so like biology? Bio majors take chemistry too.”
You just shake your head, “He’s actually
a philosophy major.”
Silence engulfs the room for a moment, Ara looking at you with the wildest expression. It's like she is trying to understand the situation, and somehow make philosophy equal chemistry, but nothing is adding up. Her mouth opens and closes multiple times. You don’t blame her or her reaction because you felt the exact same way.
“Exactly,” you tell her. “That is why I’m fucked.”
“I am so sorry, y/n,” she places a hand over her heart, “should I begin preparing your funeral arrangements now?”
You throw one of the pillows on your bed at her, but Ara just catches it with laughter. “Why the hell are you laughing?”
“I think that you will be fine,” she tries to appease you. “Find this philosophy dude and try to get him to become your tutor. At this point, he seems to be your only saving grace.”
“Even if I wanted to be tutored by some smartass philosophy major,” you begin, still not entirely sure if you want to meet up with him, “I don’t know where the hell to find him.”
Your roommate says something along the lines of going to see the head of student relations, and that’s when a light bulb goes off in your head—you have a friend who works in the administration building. If anyone can help you locate this Namjoon dude, it will be that person. And as soon as this idea fills your mind, you decide that you better not waste any time and jump off the bed, rushing to the door.
“Where are you going? You don’t have another class today,” Ara questions as you grab your student ID.
“I’ll be back!” you say a little too excitedly and practically run to the other side of the campus.
By the time you get to the academic building, you’re sweating up a storm. It was the beginning of November already, which meant cooler autumn days. But today, Mother Nature paid a particularly warm visit and the bi-polar weather was something you hated. You walk up the pretty white steps and open the double doors into a space of cool air-conditioned goodness. You take a moment to bask in the contrast from outside before walking up to the secretary.
“Hi,” you greet the woman dressed in all red. “Is Min Yoongi in today?”
Even though you have become well acquainted with the boy over the last few months, you have no idea what his set schedule is. You two had one class together—a history course you both struggled to stay awake in; besides that, you never saw him around much. All you knew was that Yoongi was always busy with his multiple jobs around campus, which was weird since the last time you saw him, he was asleep in the library. He probably passed out from exhaustion.
“Yes, he is.” You breathe a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens. “He is currently right up the stairs; second door to the left.”
You thank the secretary and follow her directions until you reach the second door on the left. The door was slightly cracked open. Peeping in, you see Yoongi tapping away on a keyboard and you lightly tap three times on the wood. He types a few more times before saying to come in.
Pushing the door open, he looks over at you and nearly does a double-take. “Y/n?”
He seems surprised to see you, especially since you’ve never come by before.
You fall into an empty seat. “Hey, Yoongi.”
“Should I be
worried?” he questions, turning back to his computer.
“Depends,” you tell him.
“On what?”
“Do you know someone named Kim Namjoon?”
Yoongi stops, hovering his hands over the keyboard. You notice that his mouth presses into a thin line, eyebrows scrunching. He swivels his chair to face you and blinks twice. “Maybe.”
“Can you help me find him?” you ask.
“Why?” he crosses his arms over his chest.
You sigh, “Because my dumbass self is failing chemistry and I need help.”
“Don’t you have any friends you can ask to help?” Yoongi asks. “I mean, like me for instance.”
His comment makes you roll your eyes. The corner of his lips morph into a half-smile, and you know that he’s just teasing. You also know how busy he is; there is no way you are going to ask him for anything. Besides, Yoongi is probably just as terrible at chemistry. You have never seen him step anywhere near the science building.
You express these sentiments to him and he nods, while you ask, “Aren’t you a communications major anyway?”
“Isn’t this Namjoon guy in philosophy?”
“So you do know him, Yoongi.”
“I said maybe—I never said yes or no,” he clarifies, and you suppress your need to roll your eyes again. “But I guess I can help you find him.”
You nearly jump for joy at his words and watch as he begins to type away at his keyboard again. After a few minutes, Yoongi has pulled up an entire profile, along with a few articles, on Namjoon. All the information is cool, but you question your friend about its legality. But Yoongi merely brushes your concerns away and says it’s his job description. Whatever that means.
Your eyes scan down the profile—which is rather impressive with all of the multiple awards and perfect 4.0 GPA plastered on the screen in bold letters—and come to the conclusion that Kim Namjoon is, in fact, a genius and that you need his help. Immediately. Screw the fact that he isn’t a chemistry major. You just need anything you can get at this point. You want—no, need to pass. As you stare at his photo, showcasing an individual with dark hair and thick-framed glasses, you make it your mission to find him. Now, it's just the question of where to start looking.
“I’ve seen him a few times in the library,” Yoongi suddenly says, like he was reading your mind. “So, if I were you, I would start there.”
You thank Yoongi, crushing your friend in a hug and then bolt for the library.
***
After a few fruitless days in the library, you have nearly lost all hopes of getting a passing grade.
You have already started preparing yourself to take chemistry again in the spring, talking to your advisor about the schedule change. You really don’t want to take the devil’s class again, but an F would be detrimental to your GPA; and according to your university’s handbook, if you retook a class, the lower grade would be dropped. Also, Ara managed to convince you that suffering another semester in chemistry would be better than dying. And you had to agree with that.
It just seemed like it was impossible to find this Namjoon guy. You spent all of your spare time on a couch right by the library door. So if anyone left or came in, specifically him, you would see it. But every person who passed is not who you are looking for and you are starting to question Yoongi’s advice, or maybe Namjoon just lives in the library and is never going to come out.
You hope, hour after hour, that he will just walk through the doors, but it's already your fourth day in the library and you are sure the librarians are starting to get tired of seeing your face, with desperation written all over it, every day. Hell, you are tired of yourself. This is exhausting, and you are drained. Four days of waiting is absolute torture.
Ara has stopped by a few times today to drop off a bag of chips and an apple for you, which you're thankful for but wish she brought more. Aside from her, you’ve been alone. No one has stopped to talk to you, thank goodness, but a few people have given you the stink eye for hogging up the entire couch.
But having all this time alone in the library has given you the chance to think about your time-ticking situation. Even though you’ve accepted chemistry continuing to be a part of your life next semester, you still have a sliver of hope in running into Namjoon. You look at every person who walks in, checking for dark hair and glasses. Some do fit the description, but for some reason you know they’re not Kim Namjoon.
After god knows how long you’ve been in the library, you begin to pack your things up when you notice a tall blonde walk into the library. The blond hair is an immediate red x, so you focus back on the task at hand and begin walking to the doors. But just as you’re about to walk outside into the setting sun, you overhear the conversation between the blonde and the librarian.
“
you’ve read nearly everything in this library, Mr. Kim.”
He laughs, “Not everything.”
“Well, I know you’ve read much beyond your major.”
“I like to be well-rounded, ma’am.” She laughs.
“Did you still need that room?” You don’t hear him say anything to her. “Okay, mister Kim Namjoon, quiet room D is all yours.”
At that moment you freeze, not even sure if you heard anything correctly. Turning around, you notice the librarian hand the guy a key with a smile. He thanks her and walks off. You run up to the desk and slam your hand on the counter. “Was that Kim Namjoon?”
The librarian is startled, “Excuse me?”
“Was he Kim Namjoon or not?!” You’re hysteric. The person you’ve just spent days looking for is possibly steps away from you, and you are now nearing a nervous breakdown.
“Yes,” is all she says before you’re gone.
You run to the quiet rooms, which just so happened to be on the second floor, and straight to the door that had a bold letter D on it. The door is slightly cracked, so you exhale deeply before pushing it open. There you see the man himself, a book in hand, sitting in one of the two chairs in the room. He looks up at the sudden shift in the air, right at you. “Can I help you?”
Now that you’re closer to him, you realize how deep his voice is and how he just seems to command the space around him. Unlike that photo that you saw on his school profile, his once dark hair is now blonde with darker roots. The only way you can even tell it's the same person is the fact that Namjoon still wore glasses, albeit they are much more fashionable now.
“If you just came here to stare, I’d recommend that you leave. I’m currently in a very deep reading about Hobbes and the human condition.”
His comment snaps you out of your daze. “What? Hobbes? No—no I didn’t come here just to look at you, not that I came here at all to do that.” You sound stupid.
“Yes, Hobbes—did you know that he described the human condition to be one of war? That men are selfish and only wish to benefit themselves?” You have zero idea about what he is talking about. “If you don’t care about that
goodbye.” Namjoon looks back down at his book, ignoring your existence.
“I came here because I need you to tutor me,” you tell him, hoping he’ll at least look at you.
“Like I haven’t heard that before,” he flips a page.
You fist both your hands, “I’m failing chemistry, like really badly, and I can’t afford to have that grade on my transcripts.”
He doesn’t say anything, just flipping the pages in his damn book. You walk closer, until you’re right in front of him, but he still doesn’t give you the time of day. At this point, you feel angry and just done with everything. You’ve been waiting for this guy for the last four days and now he didn’t even care.
“Please,” you tell him. “Tutor me.”
“I don’t know you.”
You sigh, “My name is y/n.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“You’re Kim Namjoon.”
“Yes, well if you do know me
y/n
you must also know that I can’t just tutor you for free,” Namjoon says with a finger pushing the frame of his glasses up, eyes not wavering from the book in his other hand. “My time is precious.”
“You have to!” you practically beg. “I need to pass chem.”
He sighs, “I’m not even a chem major.”
“But you’re brilliant
or so they say,” you whisper the last bit to yourself, but Namjoon’s sharp ears don’t miss it.
“I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.”
You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.”
The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”
You just nod, hating yourself so much right now; but you're desperate, and desperate times called for even more desperate measures. As you look at Namjoon’s face, the careless gaze in his eyes begins to morph into something else. His eyes darken to obsidian and you can only imagine what is running through his head. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so willing to do anything for a passing grade. Unfortunately, you don’t have any more chances to take back what you said.
“You do look awfully pretty right now, on your knees and all.”
He brings a finger to your face, outlining the curve of your jaw to the swell of your lips. Heat rushes to your face and for a moment you don’t know what to say. You aren’t naïve to sex or anything of that sort, but you have never met someone so forward about it.
“Unless, you don’t want to pass chem,” he drops the finger. He must’ve noticed the shocked look on your face, but you quickly push your reasonable thoughts aside and shake your head.
“I want to.”
Namjoon smiles, revealing a dimple, “Perfect. We’ll start tomorrow.”
He gets up from the chair and grabs his book—which you now realize is an anthology of philosophical essays from some guy named Hobbes—walking to the door.
“You’re leaving?” you ask, still not registering what is actually going down.
“Meet me in front of the library tomorrow, and then we’ll go to my place.”
Shutting the door behind him, you collapse onto the floor with the release of a breath you’d been holding in. Your mind runs wild, heart beating erratically.
Holy shit.
***
“You what?”
Ara stares at you with wide eyes as you recall your encounter with Namjoon.
The moment you left quiet room D, after you somehow collected the strength back in your legs, you walked back to your dorm room to find your roommate sprawled on her bed. She expected to see you back earlier and was a bit concerned as to why you were later than usual today.
So, you spilled the beans. Everything.
Your roommate is the closest friend you have at school and you really needed to tell someone about the situation you were placed in. Ara was excited when you mentioned how you managed to meet Namjoon in the library and talked to him. Her expression began to change once you mentioned how disinterested he was until you offered a form of payment.
“I told him I’d do anything,” you repeat, lightly tapping your head against the wall.
“Why the hell did you say that?”
“I was desperate, Ara,” you say with a sigh. “Like, really desperate—you should’ve seen me.”
The both of you cringe at the image of you begging Namjoon to tutor you. You still can’t believe you became that girl. This chemistry class is really fucking you up.
“You’re an idiot, y/n,” she tells you.
“Oh my god, I know.”
It was pretty idiotic of you to offer up such a bold promise. You have never been one to be so risky and wage two very important things—your chemistry grade and yourself. Is it even worth it? You are beginning to have second thoughts and that's a terrible thing.
“When are you two meeting up?” Ara asks.
“Tomorrow.”
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vagrantblvrd · 7 years ago
Text
I was playing Uncharted earlier and that reminds me of that Indiana Jones/Tomb Raider/Uncharted/??? AU where Ryan is some disillusioned treasure academic/treasure hunter/adventurer/roguish dork who gets hired to lead a team of idiots to some ~ancient treasure.
Seriously.
Ryan spends his days teaching Archaeology courses at a community college and he kind of likes it? There's faint amusement at the kids who are there because they need the credits to get their degree and it shows, and the ones who fell in love with Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones as a kid or Lara Croft and Nathan Drake, and those ones are always entertaining when they realize how fucking tedious archaeology actually is.
Then there are the ones there who love learning about ancient cultures and civilization and that tends to hurt a bit, the passionate ones who have drive and ambition and want to discover more about the past and humanities part in it because he used to have that, and now he's here handing out syllabuses and grading quizzes and coming up with ways to torture his students to keep from dying of boredom.
And then one day he's going over class plans or grading essays, something that's got him feeling a bit restless and itching to call it a day and  the hell out of his tiny little office, get some air, and there's a knock at his door.
Not the tentative, uncertain things he gets from too many of his students or the curt, impatient things from the kids who think his class is a joke, no.
Just a sharp one-two-three rap and a, “Hey, anyone in there?”
Ryan blinks because there's a bit of Jersey in that voice, loud, just shy of brash, and they're a long way from Jersey out here.
So Ryan gets up and opens his door to find some kid in his mid to late twenties looking up at him, eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he looks Ryan over.
Nothing too impressive there, Ryan knows. Some guy who's dreams were too big for him that ended up here teaching students who might change the world one day if they manage to push past the bullshit the world's going to throw at them.
He's out of shape and his hair's starting to thin and overall he looks like any other guy his age running around this town. Tired and old and his biggest dream this day is making it to the end of the week without the department head coming down to his office to flirt shamelessly.
“Christ,” Ryan says, when he goes back over that line of thought in his head, because he's turned into a sad sack of shit somewhere along the way and didn't notice.
“Uh,” the guy says, looking concerned. “Dude, are you okay?”
Ryan brushes it off, says he was just thinking about something and lets the kid into his office. Has to snatch up a stack of unread academic journals and drop them in a corner behind his desk to do so, but the kid doesn't comment even though it looks like it's killing him not to.
“End of semester mess,” Ryan says by way of explanation because the disaster area his office has turned into is pretty painful to look at for him too. “It usually isn't this bad.”
The kid mm-hmm’s, the sound seeming to be even more judgmental than any words could hope to be.
“So, uh. What brings you to my humble little office?” Ryan asks, trying to look less like a human disaster and well aware he's falling short.
The kid glances around Ryan's office, eyes lingering over a few of the framed photographs. Old maps and newspaper clippings neatly framed to preserve them, before looking back to Ryan.
Cocks his head like he's trying to resolve the younger Ryan in the pictures – full life and eager to see what's out there – with the sad sack of shit sitting in front of him.
“One of my partners was supposed to meet me here,” the kid says, annoyance slipping into his voice. “He's the idea guy, I'm just there to keep him on the rails.”
That's...interesting, but Ryan has classes to plan/essays to grade, and he's about to suggest this kid come back some other day when they hear running footsteps in the hall outside, and what can only be a body skidding to a halt outside Ryan's office by hitting the wall beside the door.
Ryan looks at the kid who has this look on his face, long-suffering and also somehow fond as he goes to the door and pulls it open to reveal another kid around his age sprawled in a heap.
“You're late,” the kid says, reaching down to help his partner to his feet with the ease of long practice, and almost absently brushes off his shoulders before giving him a push into Ryan's office.
After Gavin gets his breath back, he explains that he and Michael work for a production company that distributes its videos on the internet and there's certain kind of pause after that. Michael watching Ryan while Gavin raises and eyebrow like there's an expected response to that kind of news.
And Ryan. He works with college kids day in and day out, watches them graduate and go off to start their lives. Gets e-mails from former students and other people out there with fledgling production companies of their own. He knows the internet isn't what it was five, ten years ago, so -
“Interesting, but I don't see what that has to do with me?” Ryan says, because he doesn't.
So Gavin explains they do a little show about treasure hunting – Gavin laughs when he says it because it sounds so stupid, doesn't it, in this day and age – but there it is.
He's come into possession of documents that seem to point to some treasure in an area of study Ryan is a bit of an expert in.
“One of our contacts said you would be the man to go to for this,” Gavin says with a small shrug.
Gavin and Michael show him an old journal from someone who went on a expedition or whatever a long time ago wherein they were searching for some ~ancient treasure and everyone was presumed dead. (Yet one more reason I can never write this as an actual fic because details??? What are those???)
He's not on board, but then Gavin offers him a pretty little sum of money he'll be paid as their guide – they haggle a bit because Ryan's been in this position before you know. People seeking him out to lead expeditions and cheating him out of money/sometimes try to kill him/the usual.
“Half now, half when we find your treasure.”
He doesn't expect them to find anything but disappointment, but even half of what they're offering would make for a nice payday, so that's a thing.
Gavin agrees, and they plan to set off in a week, after the current semester ends and the holiday begins.
Ryan thinks they're headed on a wild goose chase, and says it again and again but Gavin doesn't seem deterred, so, whatever.
A week later and Ryan shows up at the airport to find Gavin and Michael and their third partner who seems to be carrying the majority of their gear. Short little guy with brightly colored hair and a cheerful hey, pal. why don’t you go fuck yourself? smile for Gavin and Michael as they keep piling bags on him.
The four of them set off on their ~adventure and things go about as expected for a bit. Ryan vaguely amused by his traveling companions' antics, watching them when they set up to shoot various segments along the way.
Surprisingly Gavin's the one behind the camera along with Jeremy while Michael prattles on about what they're doing and where they're going. He gets some of his facts wrong, but thankfully Gavin steps in to correct him. Cheerful disembodied voice mocking Michael from behind the camera, squawking and squealing when he goes too far and Michael tosses his microphone to Jeremy before running full pelt after Gavin.
“You get used to it,” Jeremy says, packing up their gear calmly like this is something that happens frequently. “Trust me.”
Let's say they're in search of the Fountain of Youth because then Jeremy gets to break out his atrocious Louisiana accent and talk about them 'gators while they're cruising along in a boat one day.
Ryan looks over as hes telling the others about people getting death rolled by a gator and butts in with his own stories to Jeremy's delight and Gavin and Michael's dismay.
“Dude, really? Don't encourage him.”
“Ryan, no.”
Ryan starts to ~remember that the expeditions and ~adventures he used to go on weren't always all about the end destination. That the journey made it worthwhile thanks to the people he shared it with and other cheesy, super cliché ~feelings shit.
He also starts to realize that he like-likes Gavin, and it seems mutual. Endless shenanigans they're terrible at flirting with each other but because it's them, it works, while Michael and Jeremy mock them mercilessly in the background.
Eventually they realize there may be something to the old journals and maps Gavin has, and everyone gets excited that this isn't just some dumb stunt. Isn't going to be like the videos where they went in search of Bigfoot and found some locals parading a bear in a shitty costume around at night to pull in tourists and cryptid hunters.
“...What?”
“We're living the Scooby Doo life, man,” Michael says, fighting with an editing program. “You wouldn't believe the shit we've seen.”
Ryan makes a mental note to do that, but before he can they run into the baddies. Some rich assholes looking to secure the Fountain of Youth for their own selfish reasons, blah, blah, blah, and the group gets separated.
Some kind of fight, and explosion or two and then it's Ryan and Gavin trying to find the others and Gavin getting more and more frantic and annoyed as they run into obstacle after obstacle and setback after setback. Ryan watching and trying to keep him from getting his hopes up too high – they're being hunted because the baddies want the journal/map and they're outnumbered and -
“I get it!” Gavin yells, voice strained as he glares at Ryan. He looks desperate, the kind of man who'd do anything to make things right and that scares the shit out of Ryan. “For God's sake, I get it, Ryan! Do you really think I don't after what happened?”
The worst thing is, he really doesn't think Gavin does. This was just a fun little jaunt for him, bring his friends along on a treasure hunt like there aren't fuckers out there who'd kill for a scrap of the journal Gavin brought to him. For a glimpse at the map drawn on one of its pages.
“Gavin - “
He should have said no, all those weeks ago in his office. Should have said no and sent these idiots on their way, let them hire someone who wouldn't have gotten them this far. Wouldn't have gotten them into this situation -
“We'll find them,” Gavin says, sheer determination in his voice as he reaches out to pull Ryan into a hug, arms tight around him like he knows why Ryan's been saying the things he has. “We'll find them and figure things out from there.”
(Ryan doesn't believe him, but for a moment he wants to.)
And then they do find Michael and Jeremy, only the baddies are taking them wherever the Fountain is supposed to be -
“Michael had the map the whole time?”
Gavin huffs, gesturing down at himself. “Would you trust me with something that important?”
And, yes. Okay, that's a point right there.
“But,” Gavin says, pulling out that damn phone of his, bane of Ryan's life fro the beginning of this trip because he takes pictures of and records videos of everything. “I may have the next best thing right here.”
Ryan leans over to see Gavin tap on a video of Gavin bickering with Michael, the map sitting pretty on a table between them.
When he looks up, Gavin's got a bit of a smirk on his face as he pockets his phone. “Good thing I was recording, yeah?”
Ryan rolls his eyes and leads the way to the closest road. Tells Gavin he knows some guys around here, a couple of retired treasure hunters who might be able to help.
“Look at all those chickens,”Gavin says, and makes a face, fingers curling into a fist when Ryan glances at him.
“Bit of an inside joke of Jeremy's,” Gavin says, and follows Ryan through the gate leading to the backyard of this odd little house in the middle of nowhere.
Countless chickens running around shitting everywhere and making a ruckus, and then Geoff and Jack come out to see what's causing the commotion and it's. Well, it's not a heartwarming reunion, but they don't shoot Ryan or Gavin, and that's a good start, right?
They go into the house and tell Geoff and Jack what's going on, Geoff and Jack sharing knowing looks as they get to the part where everything went to shit.
“What is it, with you, Ryan?” Geoff asks, watching Gavin helping Jack to feed the multitude of chickens. “You make a habit of getting into these kind of messes?”
Ryan doesn't have an answer for him, not that Geoff was expecting one, and Geoff sighs, tired old man that he is.
“You break that kid's heart, Haywood, we're going to have problems.”
Ryan doesn't protest that, figures he'd deserve whatever Geoff came up with if he does, and that more than anything else has Geoff keeping his peace when Gavin runs back to the house being chased by this giant bastard of a chicken who doesn't like anyone.
Ryan lets it slip to Gavin that he Geoff and Jack were kind of mentors to him, that he went on his first expedition/adventure with them and it was good for a while, but this kind of life is for the young, isn't it. (Or so Geoff and Jack said, and they retired to this farm where Geoff raises chickens and Jack has his garden and he kind of envies them for it because they're happy.)
A few days later Ryan and Gavin set off to where the baddies have taken Michael and Jeremy, Geoff and Jack promising to bring reinforcements and then they get to where the Fountain's supposed to be.
End up fighting a lot of baddies, Gavin saving Ryan's life, giving him a smirk as he switches the gun to his other hand to help Ryan up.
“I had a good teacher,” he says, and Ryan's eyes narrow even as he feels himself blush.
(There was totally a moment before everything turned to bad where Ryan was trying to teach Gavin how to shoot, showing him the proper stance, how to hold the gun and so on in proper romance movie style because they were headed into ~danger, he needed to know how to defend himself, you know? Only thing is, Gavin already knew how to shoot, but who was he to turn down free lessons from Ryan?)
“You're a goddamn con artist, is what you are.”
Gavin grins, but doesn't deny it, and Ryan has this very clear moment of well, shit because he's well and truly gone for this little bastard, isn't he?
And then more fighting, some explosions and fires, because of course there are -
They rescue Michael and Jeremy, or really run into Michael and Jeremy after they rescued themselves and almost get shot for their troubles.
Michael yells at Gavin for a minute straight – for being a goddamn moron to come back for them like this, what the fuck were you thinking and so on and so on  while Gavin calls him an idiot, a stupid idiot, the biggest idiot to ever idiot – and then hugs the shit out of him. (Jeremy just stands there looking tired and a little bored and shakes his head at Ryan who looks like he's going to say something. “They do this a lot too,” he says, small smile on his face. “You get used to it.”)
Just when they think they're going to get away the head baddie gets hold of Gavin and Ryan fucking loses it because of course he knows the asshole. Same bastard who screwed him over a long time ago, left him for dead after getting their friends killed and is the reason Ryan settled into his life in a quiet little town teaching at a community college, quietly living his life, all these ghosts hanging over his head this whole time.
Typical gloating and taunting before he drags Gavin into the ruins – some underground tunes and the like and Ryan and others give chase because what else is there to do?
After a while they get to the spot of the final showdown, and there's the Fountain at the center of it in a bit of a pit.
The baddie lets Gavin go because he only has eyes for the stupid thing, and Gavin kicks off some kind of booby trap as the asshole's taking a sip from the Fountain.
Intentionally or not, and the whole place starts coming down, Gavin running back to Ryan and the others and the panicked escape while the baddie either cackles because he's going to be young forever and has finally snapped, or is trying to kill the hell out of them for destroying the Fountain, maybe a bit of both.
The desperate scramble out of the tunnels to find Geoff and Jack waiting for them, mercenaries either dead or fled, and they head back to civilization.
Ryan sneaks away when Gavin and the others are getting looked over at the hospital Goes back to his quiet little town and starts to pack up, doesn't really know where he's going to go now, but he knows he can't stay there.
Goes to his classroom that feels far too small – was it always like that? - and walks down the steps to that tiny little desk he'd sit at, the whiteboard he'd draw diagrams and cutaways on. Would use to bring dead civilizations to life again for a brief moment in time, his students awed and fascinated and -
“I went to university for a bit,” Gavin says, voice faint from the top of the steps.
He starts walking down towards Ryan, limping a little because he got banged up a bit in that final fight. There are fading bruises on his face, stitches hidden by his clothes, but he's smiling, small and fond as he looks at Ryan.
“In England, I mean. I went to university, and one day we had a guest speaker. American bloke, and there was a bit of a kerfuffle when he showed up.”
Gavin's smile widens as he tops a few steps above Ryan. “All those tattoos, you know. Nowhere near as many as he has now, but it was still a bit of a scandal at the time.”
Ryan's eyes narrow.
“You know how Geoff is, though, didn't bat an eye, and Jack was so very polite. Proper.”
“Gavin - “
“They had a grad student with them, quiet, until you got him started on some bit of interest to him and then you couldn't shut him up. Fiery, passionate.”
Gavin's eyebrows go up when Ryan looks away. “I doubt I made much of an impression on him back then, but he made the courses I was taking at the time a damn sight more interesting, that's for certain.”
And it turns out that Ryan doesn't really remember that part of the trip that much because Geoff pulled Jack and Ryan into a bit of an adventure that took a lot more precedence, and then things didn't really slow down after that.
But!
Gavin got interested in archaeology and the like, but university wasn't for him and somehow he ended up going to America and meeting Burnie and getting involved in his production company making videos about looking for Bigfoot and the like. Working with Geoff and Jack on a few, and not really hitting his stride until he met Michael and Ray – who quit after the incident with the Wendigo – and then they picked Jeremy up and the whole thing with Ryan, and so on and so on.
“My bosses liked the videos we came back with,” Gavin says, odd little twist to his mouth because Ryan knows for a fact Gavin and the others destroyed footage that might lead anyone to the Fountain's location. “They wanted to know if you'd do more with us in the future.”
Ryan tries to think up an excuse, because it's a bad idea, the two of them. He almost got Gavin killed, has a track record of doing that kind of thing, but Gavin rolls his eyes and kisses him and Ryan -
Well, he forgets all his half-assed excuses and explanations.
“You're a bit of an idiot, aren't you?” Gavin asks, like he isn't one himself.
And so Ryan ends up moving to wherever Gavin and the others call home. Gets himself a part-time job at the local community college where the lecture halls don't feel so small, even if his office is as tiny as ever.
He goes out with Gavin and the others sometimes to do videos – maybe it's a proper expedition for treasure or some such, maybe it's just to someplace like Stonehenge for a video special - where Ryan gets to demonstrate his terrible accents to Michael and Jeremy's delight and Gavin's dismay.
And they lived happily ever after. (And often got sent pictures of Geoff's newest chicks, because of course they do.)
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