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kwonhozhi · 7 years ago

Text

Let’s Pretend We’re Doing Great

me: turns up 10 months late with starbucks

dedicated to ria and melina, but most of all dedicated to rhiannon x

word count: 5000

AO3 | playlist

part i | part ii

7:45

“Hurry up or I’m doing yours,” calls James, and Sirius glares down from his perch on the step ladder.

“Tell me again exactly why it is that I’m up here hanging the banners for your party and not you?”

“Because you loooove me,” James sings. Sirius gives him a kick but they both know the kick means of course I do. Sirius smacks the banner to make sure it’ll stay up (it won’t) and climbs back down. Remus, Peter and Evans are standing in a huddle by the fold out drinks table, and as they approach Evans whispers something to Peter and he glances over his shoulder as he giggles.

“Notice you’re doing fuck all,” Sirius says to Remus as the huddle expands to let him and James in.

“Noticed correctly,” Remus says as he accepts a shot glass from Evans and balances it on the rims of two glasses.

“Evans,” James says loudly, and she looks up at him sweetly, “you’ve only poured four shots.”

“Remus only gave me four glasses,” she says.

James rounds on him. “You’re not eighteen yet. It would be irresponsible.” Then he knocks the row of shots into the glasses and they all grab for a drink. Sirius watches James, the loser, take the bottle from beside Evans, unscrew the cap, and pour Jägermeister all over Remus’ shoes. Remus puts his empty glass on the table, looks at his feet, and starts laughing.

Sirius doesn’t know if he’s angry or not.

“These aren’t my shoes,” Remus says, bouncing up onto the balls of his feet. The action produces an uncomfortable wet sound, and yeah. Sirius is angry. He doesn’t really remember doing it but suddenly James’ hair is wet and dripping and Sirius is holding an empty can of Red Bull.

Evans checks her watch. “You have nine minutes to shower and change.”

James nods and takes an unopened bottle of tequila and Evans’ hand, and leads them both upstairs.

“I still need new shoes,” Remus says. “And to sabotage all the banners to get rid of James’ name.”

Peter appears with a mop, even though Sirius hadn’t seen him disappear. “Sirius get shoes, Remus, you can sabotage two banners. I’ll put on This Is The Day and clean this up. Okay?”

Remus is already slipping out of the ruined shoes – Sirius’ ruined shoes – so Sirius climbs the stairs two at a time (this is the day) and takes the long way to his bedroom (your life will surely change) to avoid the downstairs bathroom.

9:02

James is ignoring him.

Okay, he and James are ignoring each other, but James is always the one who apologises even when it’s Sirius’ fault they started fighting and it’s been over an hour and Sirius hates this party.

Okay, take a breath. It’s only been an hour. James’ hair is still damp from the shower. He’s going to wait until it’s dry, then he’s going to be mad James hasn’t apologised yet.

He goes upstairs just so James will have to come looking for him.

“Beautiful boy,” Euphemia calls from the library, and Sirius ducks his head as he enters. He takes a spot on the carpet at her feet and she runs her hands through his hair. “Why are you hiding?”

“’M not,” he says.

“Okay,” she says, but it sounds more like liar, “why are you not-hiding, then?”

“I was coming to make sure it wasn’t too loud for you.”

“How sweet of you,” Fleamont says from the doorway, carrying a silver tray with two glasses and a bottle of scotch on it.

“Our sons,” Euphemia says, stretching out a hand for one of the glasses, “are fighting.”

“Hey!”

Fleamont chuckles as he lowers himself into a reading chair.

“I never said we were fighting,” Sirius mutters.

“You didn’t need to,” Euphemia says. “Aai knows.”

“We’re fine up here, Sirius,” Fleamont says. “Listen, barely a sound. Now, I know you have a refined palate, so take this and go back to the party.”

Sirius takes the bottle of scotch, and kisses them both on the cheek before he leaves. He thinks about going to his room and sulking. He settles on sulking on the steps down to the den instead.

“Steal that from Baba?” James asks, as he sits down next to him.

“No.”

James gives him a look.

“He gave it to me.”

“Okay.”

They sit in silence for a minute, or they sit in Hold the Line for a minute, while Sirius watches a couple of the guys from the cricket team play beer pong and James watches Sirius. Finally, Sirius says, “Want some?” and James takes the bottle, and their fingers brush and Sirius can’t stay mad at him. “Sorry for pouring Red Bull on you.”

James takes a measured sip. It looks like he’s trying to suppress a cough, so Sirius pats him on the back. “Sorry for ruining your shoes,” he chokes.

Sirius smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

9:40

“Excuse you, it is the original.”

“So? You want to tell me that the best version of Mad World is by Tears for Fears while you’re at it?” James shouts, and Evans shrinks back.

“I’m with her on this one,” Sirius says, going to stand next to her.

“How dare you forsake Olivia Newton-Jesus like this. You’re never allowed to watch Grease with me again,” James says.

“Don’t say anything you don’t mean,” Sirius says, voice low, arms crossed. He hopes that Evans is taking the opportunity he’s giving her, but he doesn’t want to look to check and draw James’ focus away from their argument. “You know I take ONJ very seriously.”

James looks pained. “But John Denver?”

“He gave us this song. You have to respect that.”

He says, “Fine,” and turns to give Evans the go-ahead, but she’s already by the stereo and flipping him off while Mr Denver tells them about the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Shenandoah River.

Sirius says, “Sucks to suck.”

10:00

Euphemia and Fleamont come downstairs at ten on the dot, carrying a cake each, and Sirius and Peter spring forward to help, clearing off a section of the drinks table in a matter of seconds. Sirius pulls his lighter out of his pocket and starts lighting candles before Euphemia even gets the cake down, and when they’re all lit, he tosses it to Peter.

He sings so loudly he thinks he’s going to choke on his own voice, and he lets Fleamont basically force-feed him a too-large slice of cake, and he watches Euphemia and James waltz around the room to Little Things Mean a Lot with a growing pit of jealousy in his stomach, though he doesn’t know which one he’s jealous of. He steps in and dances with Moony, partly so his hands have something to do, partly because Moony looks extremely awkward just standing there, watching. Maybe it’s the sugar from the cake, maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe he’s just restless.

Euphemia drives herself and James towards them, and in a clever motion somehow swaps James for Remus. James squeezes his hand and takes the lead, and Sirius is grateful, because his heart has just skipped a beat and he doesn’t know why.

Kitty Kallen makes way for a One Direction song and Sirius drops James’ hand. Too fast (I just want to take you), too conspicuous (any way that you like), if James’ expression is anything to go by. “Loo,” he says, and walks away before he can blush any deeper.

10:31

He drops in between Peter and James on the low sofa, though he doesn’t really intend on joining in their conversation.

“Why would you say that?” James asks. He leans back and closes his eyes, and he smells a bit like weed, though Sirius knows neither of them have money for weed.

“Because it’s true.”

James scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Artie Faller and Dan Tawdry are going to kick off on Monday after school over it, guaranteed.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” James yawns.

“Open your eyes, then,” Peter says, taking a sip of his cider.

“Open your mind,” James shoots back.

“No, literally. Open your eyes.”

James sits forward, annoyed, but he follows Peter’s finger, and his jaw goes slack. Sirius looks too, and what they’re looking at appears to be one of the boys from the cricket team eating the face of one of the girls Sirius thinks is on the girls’ football team.

“Worlds collide,” James whispers.

“Hogwarts Romeo and Juliet,” Peter says smugly. “Cricket team’s the Capulets.”

James pauses on his way sliding down to lay his head in Sirius’ lap. “Hey! Not all of the cricket team hates all of the football team.”

“Cricket team and football team get along factoid statistical error,” Peter says, and James rolls his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” James says. “Oh, Siri! When did you get here?”

Sirius looks down at him, pauses in stroking his hair. “Just now,” he lies.

“Well, you missed Tawdry and Tully Faller snogging.”

“They’re literally still going,” says Peter.

James looks annoyed. “Fuck off, Peter.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says, “fuck off, Peter.”

10:45

“Come on, let us give you a fringe,” Marlene whines, and Sirius dodges out of her reach.

“You’ll look like Joey Ramone,” Evans says, grabbing at his sleeve, because the party is dead enough that the two of them have retreated into the den loo.

Sirius gently removes her hand. “Evans, I would not let you near me with scissors sober let alone blind drunk.”

She hiccups. “I’m not blind,” she says, but she bumps into Marlene as she turns around so Sirius isn’t exactly inclined to change his mind. In a few seconds she’s completely forgotten him and calls to Benjy from the rugby team because his hair is looking really scruffy around your ears me and Marls’ll fix it step into our office and Sirius watches the boy as he’s forced down onto the closed toilet lid.

Sirius turns around just in time to watch Remus scream and launch himself across the room to turn the stereo up. He’s taken off his replacement shoes so it’s barefoot that he dances across the carpet to take Sirius’ hands.

“I would go out tonight,” he sings, “but I haven’t got a stitch—”

“To wear,” Sirius grins, allowing himself to be spun. He spins right into James, and Peter dips him, and he watches Benjy from the rugby team make a run for it when Lily and Marlene start singing at each other. Frank has a girl from their sociology class on his back and someone puts the song on again because even the cricket team is dancing and laughing and Peter decides to pour drinks.

“Come on!” James laughs, bending down for Sirius to climb onto his back. They spin in a circle, and Sirius is definitely going to throw up if they keep going but he laughs anyway and he loves James he loves James he loves Jameshelovesjame

Peter excuses himself to go to the loo, but Evans and Marlene have already reinstalled themselves in it, and Evans gives Marlene an extremely devious look that Sirius wants no part of.

“Peter, we think you would look absolutely fab,” Marlene starts.

“Fabbity fab,” Evans agrees.

“…with a mullet.”

“What,” Peter says, but Marlene has already cut a chunk of his hair off.

James wraps his arms around Sirius’ shoulders, and Sirius shivers. “Baba and Aai are going to bed, do we need anything before they check out?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Move!” Peter shouts, and Evans and Marlene leap back as he slides off the loo and opens the lid seconds before he starts vomiting. Marlene looks back at them with a bemused look on her face, but Evans just shrugs and continues cutting Pete’s hair. James releases Sirius and walks over to close the loo door. He wrinkles his nose as he smiles back at Sirius.

“Who’s ready!” Frank shouts, and makes a show of pressing play on James’ old laptop. Sirius shrugs at James, and takes his hands to drag him into the middle of the room to dance.

They’ve had a routine to this song since they were twelve, but that fucking film came out last year and yeah okay maybe Sirius looks a little like Ezra Miller and now when they break it out everyone thinks they’re doing that, so they just sway, but Sirius can see James going through their steps in his mind. “Spin,” James mutters to himself, “dip.”

Sirius just smiles, and rests his head on James’ shoulder.

11:13

“You guys wanna go up to James’ room?” Frank asks.

“And do what?” Remus asks, twisting around in James’ arms to look up at him.

Frank just pumps his eyebrows, and James snorts, burrowing his face into the crook of Remus’ neck. They barely fit on the loveseat just the two of them, even with Remus half in James’ lap, but Frank tries to drape himself over it anyway.

“Fuck off, Frank,” Remus says.

“This is James and Remus cuddle time, not James, Remus and Frank cuddle time,” James says.

Frank starts muttering to himself as he rolls off onto the floor, but Sirius watches him bounce to his feet and fall into step with Marlene with a slick, “Hey.”

He looks down at the laptop screen, and pulls up the queue. With a quick glance over at the loveseat he scrolls down and discretely removes one two three four five six seven songs by The Kinks.

11:20

“Sirius I’m Serious!” James says, and his voice is honest-to-god shaking. “It’s my party and you won’t let me listen to my music and – and…” he trails off as his voice breaks and he swallows a sob.

“You cannot play an entire Kinks album,” Sirius says calmly. “Everyone will hate you.”

“But I love her!”

Sirius blinks. “Her?”

“Them,” James corrects. “I love them. They speak to my soul.” He’s not looking at Sirius anymore. He’s looking somewhere behind Sirius, but Sirius doesn’t care to turn around and find out who what has grabbed his attention.

He pretends that Peter’s doing something interesting, and walks away without a word. Peter is rarely doing anything interesting, but Sirius needs a drink and Peter seems to be mixing drinks, so that’s interesting enough.

“What’s cookin’, mediocre lookin’?”

“Wet pussy,” Peter says, without looking up.

“Yeah, I’ll get in on that action,” Sirius says, picking up an empty shot glass.

Peter shakes the shaker, and pours them each a shot.

“James trying to play Kinks?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Peter pauses to take his shot, and Sirius follows suit (hint of Jäger), “don’t worry. I’ve put something in the queue just for you.” He winks clumsily, and pours another set of shots.

A moment passes between them, and then Sirius says, “Peter, genuine question. Are you actually fucked in the head?”

“What? It’s Gasol—”

“No, it is not,” Sirius hisses. “Don’t you ever say that.”

“It’s the best remix,” Peter says, folding his arms. Defiant.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Chill and take another shot,” Peter says. “Remus is already walking over to skip it.”

(Remus is sprinting over to skip it.)

Sirius takes a deep breath, and rolls his shoulders. “You’re right.”

Peter looks righteously surprised. “I am?”

Sirius nods. “I fancy a smoke.”

“I fancy joining you.”

“Excellent,” Sirius says. Peter goes out into the little courtyard attached to the den first, and Sirius stands in the doorway. “Do you still have my lighter?”

Peter pulls the Bic out of his pocket and waves it around.

“Good, you can use it to keep you warm.” He steps back in and slams the door, making a show of locking it. Peter pounds on the glass half-heartedly for a few seconds and flips Sirius off, but it’s no use, so he just lays down.

“No one,” Sirius announces loudly, “is allowed to let Pettigrew back in until I say so.”

11:36

James is sitting with Evans on the low sofa when Sirius tries to walk past to the stereo to lock the laptop so Frank and Marlene can’t keep trying to put Gangnam Style on. He tries to walk past but James reaches out and pulls him down next to them. He already has an arm around Evans, and he throws his other around Sirius to keep him from leaving.

It’s a good tactic; Sirius wants nothing more than to leave.

“My two greatest loves,” James sighs, giving them a squeeze. Sirius is so close to him that he feels when James’ phone buzzes in his pocket. Both he and Evans read over James’ shoulder: ratatouille boy: hey im hungry. bring skips x

James nods to himself, and kisses them each on the forehead. He gets up, and wanders off to find Remus. Sirius darts a look at Evans, but she’s looking at her hands. The space between them is too small and too large all at once.

“I – I want you to know,” she says softly, and it doesn’t feel like she’s trying to be quiet. It just feels like the quietness is a coincidence. “I’m not angry with you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m angry with you.”

“I know you’re not,” he says, though he doesn’t, and he’s still not sure what she’s not angry about.

“I just really don’t want you to think that I have a problem with the way you love James.” This is quiet, quiet on purpose, quiet enough that Sirius can ignore it if he wants. “I don’t.”

“Don’t what?” James asks.

To her credit, Evans doesn’t act surprised that he’s suddenly back between them like he’d never left. “Don’t want to go to Spoons after the movie on Wednesday.”

“That’s ridiculous,” James scoffs. “Of course we’re going to Spoons. We always go to Spoons.”

Sirius is still looking at Evans over James’ shoulder. He wants her to know that what she’s said, where she’s said it – it feels like a betrayal. But he has a Black’s face and those aren’t really equipped to convey subtle emotion, so she doesn’t get it. She just gives him a soft look. Gangnam Style is playing.

He kind of hates her.

12:00

“Pete wants to know if he can come back in yet.”

“Tell Peter if he wanted to remain inside he should have thought of that before he played a hideous remix of the greatest song of all time.”

Frank shrugs. “Can I at least take him a beer?”

Sirius considers. “Yeah, go on.”

Marlene slings an arm around his shoulders as he watches Frank go. “Seems unusually charitable of you.”

Sirius pats her hand. “Peter hates beer.” He turns around and touches her uneven bangs. “Done with the barbershop?”

Marlene sighs, a big dramatic affair that involves her entire body and the act of slumping almost to the floor.

“Spit it out.”

Marlene removes her hand from where it’s draped delicately across her forehead and gives him a look. “Potter stole my business partner.”

“Stole her where? This is not a large room.” This is not a small house.

“I don’t know, Black. If I knew, then I would go steal her back.”

Sirius frowns, and Marlene pulls a flask out from somewhere. She offers him a swig, and he decides he doesn’t care that it came from her somewhere.

“Like,” she says, “I would die for Lily Evans, but her and Potter? Jesus Fucking Kardashian.”

“I feel ya,” Sirius says, handing the flask back. It disappears back into somewhere. “Do you want to go look upstairs? We’re allowed to. I live here.”

“Nah. I mean, sounded like James wanted to fuck. Neither of us need to walk in on that.”

All of a sudden, Sirius is very done with this topic of conversation. “I’m going to go check on Lupin,” he says, and turns his back on her. Why is this hitting a nerve, Sirius? Why do you care if James is going to

He doesn’t care to finish the thought.

Remus is draped over the loveseat, and he doesn’t react when Sirius pokes his cheek, so Sirius climbs over him to sit on the seatback. “Lupin,” Sirius sighs. No response. “I feel like I’m going crazy. James is off with Evans and I just…I just hate it, I hate it and I don’t know why I hate it because I love James and I…like…Evans and I love James and…” He sighs again. “I love James. Remus, I think I love James like, for real love him. Or maybe I don’t. I don’t know. Like, would I shag him? Yes, obviously. He’s James, and he looks like that. It’s like, I can’t imagine my life without him. What if he and Evans get married?” He buries his face in his hands. “When I think about getting married, it only makes sense to marry James. How can I get married to him if he’s already married to her?” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “And I can absolutely never tell him any of this, because he’ll think I’m creepy, or he’ll say it’s fine but really it’s not fine and it never will be fine because I’m that arse who fell in love with his best friend and made everything complicated and everyone knows that only works out for straight people and even then that’s not a guarantee. Oh my god, why have I done this?”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Remus mumbles, and Sirius just about jumps out of his skin.

“You’re awake?” he hisses.

“Yes, I’m awake,” Remus says, propping himself up on his elbow, “you woke me up with your crisis.”

“I need…to…uhhh…leave…”

“Alright,” Remus says. “Want me to pretend I was too drunk to remember this conversation tomorrow?”

“Yes please.”

Remus lowers himself back down and says, “You’re literally the stupidest person I know.”

12:25

“Everyone who’s already eighteen, back the fuck off!” James shouts, and spins around a few times with his arms out to make sure no one’s in his space. “McKinnon,” he says, and points, “you’re with me.”

Call Me Maybe fades out, and Sirius thinks he’s going to murder James for benching him during ABBA. Frank looks put out, too, but at least he has the rugby boys to bitch with. Remus is still passed out, and Peter’s still outside, and fuck, does he really not have any other friends?

He looks over at the rugby boys, and it’s a bit weird to not see his brother among them, but like fuck was he going to let Regulus in here. He spots Evans, with her phone raised, filming the spectacle, and decides his best bet is to scrounge up a permanent marker and draw as many dicks on Remus’ face as he can before the song ends.

Dancing Queen is a pretty long song.

1:01

“Potter,” calls one of the football girls. Sirius doesn’t know any of their names, but he follows James across the room anyway. She has a phone tucked under her ear, and holds out a finger to let him know she won’t be long. “Yep, okay. See you soon.” She looks at James. “Mum brigade is on the way.”

“Oh,” says James. “Is it that late already?”

“Yes,” she (Sarah?) says. “So if you’re going to play Three Lions, play it now.”

“Oh, shit! Yeah. I’ll have it on next.”

She claps his shoulder. “Good fucking lad. I’ll gather the girls.”

“Nice.”

Sirius volunteers to go put it on, because he doesn’t particularly want to get caught in the middle of a circle of football players shouting directly in his ear, and already being on the fringe of the party seems like the only way he’s going to avoid getting sucked into it.

“Privately,” Evans says, sidling up beside him, “I hope football never comes home ever again.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sirius says, and she hands him a disposable coffee cup filled with something that he’s only sure isn’t coffee.

She waits ‘til he has his mouth full (cider? beer? cider and beer?) to say, “Also I let Peter back inside,” and disappears before he can swallow.

He almost chokes, but he doesn’t try to follow her, or find Peter.

He sits down next to the speaker, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes. He wants everyone to leave, wants the party to be over. Wants the party to never have happened. Wants James to quit the football team, wants this fucking song to end.

Wants, he leans against the wall and he wants.

1:58

“Come down here with me,” James whines, holding his arms out. “I think about that small café.”

“You’re a baby,” Sirius says, but he lays down anyway. “This carpet is disgusting.”

“Yeah, as far as I’m aware Baba and Aai have never cleaned it.” He takes Sirius’ hand, entwines their fingers. “I’ll drink afternoon tea afternoon tea – how often is carpet supposed to be cleaned?”

“I have no idea. How do you even clean a carpet?”

“Carpet cleaner and hoovering, I suppose.”

“Wouldn’t it be so funny,” Sirius says, “if this carpet wasn’t actually brown at all and it’s just dirt?”

“I drink sugar with – Sirius that would not be funny at all. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”

“You get sick thinking about McGonagall with her hair down.”

“She’s looked the same since the day I first met her! I don’t want her to ever change! It’s like if your cousin waxed her upper lip, or – or if Remus wore skinny jeans.”

“You’ve never seen Moony’s skinny jeans?”

The look of utter disbelief and upset that James gives him is enough to break him. “I don’t know who he is anymore,” James whispers.

“Hey,” Sirius says, squeezing his hand, “think about it this way. At least Pete has a mullet now.”

James’ smile is so bright it’s hard to look at in the dimness. “Yeah! Hey, yeah!” He stops to giggle. “Mullet. Did you ever catch the mullet in Club Penguin?”

Sirius rolls onto his side to stare at James. “You could do that?”

“Yeah. Remus showed me how to do it in year six.”

“Why didn’t he show me?” Sirius is dangerously close to pouting.

“Well, let’s think…if he didn’t tell you, he mustn’t have been talking to you, so was that when you stole his Take That CDs?”

“No, that was the year before.”

James rolls onto his side as well. “Was it when you and Peter played darts that one time and you got him in the foot?”

“I think that was later.”

“When we had a sleepover and you spilled your sprite all over his sleeping bag and he cried and called his dad to pick him up and you made fun of him at school on Monday for crying despite the fact you sobbed the whole way through Notting Hill?”

“Yeah that sounds like it.” They’re face to face and James’ lips are right there and he wants to kiss him, wants to kiss him so that James knows he means it.

Except Evans flops down on James’ other side and he rolls back onto his back. Sirius watches Evans take James’ hand – the one Sirius isn’t holding he’s still holding why are you still holding his hand

Sirius watches James slip away from him, and it makes him want to cry.

5:30

He wakes up on the floor, and he wakes up with James breathing on his face. He wakes up with the idea that Mr Brightside has been playing for quite a while now, and he wakes up with 151 notifications on his phone, and he wakes up calm. He doesn’t stay that way, though, because almost as soon as he registers James he registers Evans, with an arm and a leg draped over him. Sometime since they fell asleep, Sirius let go of James’ hand, or James let go of Sirius’ hand, or Evans waited ‘til they were both out and maliciously ripped their hands apart, because he’s never woken up next to James Potter not holding his hand.

He kisses James’ forehead, feather-light, and then he sits up. Remus is still on the loveseat, and Peter’s curled up on the floor by the loo, but everyone else has cleared off, and Sirius is glad; the den looks like it’s been hit by a hurricane, and he couldn’t deal with people on top of that.

When he goes upstairs, the kitchen light is on, and this time he doesn’t wait for Euphemia to call him in.

“Good morning, beautiful boy,” she says, and pulls another mug from the shelf for him. “How was your night?”

His voice is husky when he says, “Aai,” but Euphemia doesn’t have time to notice as she crosses the kitchen in two quick strides and wraps him up in a hug. He cries into her shoulder for as long as he dares, and she rubs his back and massages his scalp until he pushes away because the saucepan is starting to bubble over. “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he says. She shoots him a look over her shoulder that says fat chance.

“Everything will work out,” she says, as she pours the tea into the mugs.

“How can you know?” he asks, taking the mug she offers.

“I’m your mother,” she smiles, and pats his cheek. “Aai knows. Now take that up to bed with you, and when you wake up, everything will seem a little better. Okay?”

He nods. Things already seem a little better, with the warmth of the mug, and the warmth of a mother’s love. He kisses her cheek, takes a sip of his chai, and then he goes to bed.

#fic #my writing #padfootdidit #inakindofdaydream #smallvoids #gxldentrio #jiilys #alrightevans #snapslikethis #jockfemme

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