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storiesofsvu · 1 year ago

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Best Friend Duty

Requested. Platonic!Harvard!Barhoun Rita Calhoun x Rafael Barba besties. Could technically be read as a previous relationship or the beginning of a romantic relationship, but also just as besties. Cause lets be real, these two are besties who have fucked at least once. No real warnings, just some sickness, and a teeeeeeny glimpse of isolated childhood. Obvious sass & language.

Rafael had almost been confused when he’d come home to a quiet apartment, Rita was usually awake late, pouring over case studies, law journals, writing papers or going over mock arguments. Instead he was met with just a lamp in the corner of the living room, an open text book on the coffee table beside a nearly full bowl of pasta, silence and darkness echoing through the rest of the apartment. Glancing down the hallway he noticed that Rita’s bedroom door was shut, no light coming from under it and he almost wondered if she’d finally decided to go out on a school night.

Knowing she wouldn’t care; he tossed the food into the microwave to scarf down as his own very late dinner, glancing through what she’d been studying before disappearing, unsurprised to find it was related to the most recent essay assignment they had. Frowning, he took another bite of pasta, that was one thing he’d always enjoyed since moving in with Rita for their third year at Harvard, getting to come home and go over law material, courses and assignments with each other. When he lived in the dorms he was stuck with randoms, not necessarily the same department, year or interests. With Rita he felt at home, at peace and despite her not having a single maternal bone in her body, he felt taken care of. Her coming home with extra groceries when he was having trouble balancing work with school, his paycheques taking a hit because of it, bribing him into shopping trips on the weekends because he had a better fashion sense than her girlfriends. Those trips that always ended up with her commenting that he’d need a good suit to kick off his career, slowly building up his wardrobe one piece at a time as a thank you. Having someone around who understood how his brain worked, someone who was respectable, quiet and knew to keep the lights low when he’d been studying too long and his migraines were starting to settle in.

It balanced out because the best she could do in the kitchen was scrambled eggs, peanut butter toast, vegetables thrown together randomly to be called a salad, or unseasoned shrimp and rice on a good day. Rafael started adding things to the grocery list a few weeks into moving in, appreciating that she always picked the things up so he could cook them actual, seasoned and delicious food. Shopping balanced out because he really did have a good fashion sense, even if it was more impacted by Rita, and his memory was impeccable, he’d be able to spot a pair of earrings that would go with a suit she’d bought months ago, forgotten at the back of her closet. And while she was guiding him through his migraines, he was the one who would always make sure she actually ate, that coffee was brewed at the beginning of the day, that she put away the textbooks and go to bed sometime before dawn if they had class the next day.

Things were completely platonic, but they loved each other, and they knew they always would. Best friends from the moment they met despite what society’s expectations would say, hell, despite what some of their classmates would say. They belonged in each others lives, they helped take care of each other, work through the toughest times together and they would always be there for each other.

Which is why when Rafael rolled over in the middle of the night and his arm hit something that wasn’t a pillow, he wasn’t totally confused. He groaned softly, shifting on the bed, his eyes scrunching tightly shut in an attempt to hold onto his sleep, his hand finding Rita’s elbow, rubbing gently as he relaxed into the pillows.

“Did you really have to punch me in the tit?” She grumbled and he let out a huff.

“You’re the one invading my bed.” He groaned, “what’re you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She replied, a hoarse cough breaking up her words, “my room’s freezing. I’m freezing.”

Rafael wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush to her before his hand wandered up, the back of it resting against her forehead, “you’re burning up.”

“Shut up.” Rita mumbled, readjusting so she was comfortable in his arms, “lemme sleep.”

“So… you snuck into my room at four a.m. to what? Cuddle….?” He chuckled.

“I came into your room for comfort, and for warmth.” Her fingers pinched at his wrist, “so can we just go back to sleep?”

“Sure.” Rafael laughed softly, squeezing at her softly, “you know you’re cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

“Will you just hold me!” Rita let out a near whine and he could hear her voice breaking, frowning as he knew there were likely tears building in her eyes. It wasn’t often that Rita behaved like this, that she felt like this, that she desired to depend on someone else. It was clear to Rafael by the time his eyes were shutting again that she definitely wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, his arm winding tightly around her waist, making sure she was fully in his embrace as they fell back asleep.

Rita didn’t wake up until the early afternoon, the bed empty but blankets wrapped tightly around her, a sealed bottle of water sat on the nightstand beside a pack of Tylenol and it appeared Rafael had even gone to the length of grabbing the portable heater from her room to make sure she was no longer freezing. She definitely wasn’t, she felt almost sticky with sweat, her mouth dry and her head throbbing as she ever so slowly rolled over to grab the medicine and water. Her throat was on fire as she swallowed, the pills barely making it down and she groaned before breaking into a small coughing fit, wincing at the pain in her chest already. Whatever this was, it was hitting her hard and hitting her fast. Her only positive thought was that if came on this quickly maybe it would be gone within twenty four hours.

The coughing alerted Rafael that she was finally awake, the door creaking open and his head popping through it to see how she was, “are you up, up or just taking meds?”

“Up, up.” She replied with a groan, “I feel disgusting, I need to shower.” She attempted to push herself to her feet but swayed heavily and Raf darted through the room, an arm winding around her waist.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m fine.” She insisted and he chuckled.

“You snuck into my bed in the middle of the night to be held, there’s clearly something wrong with you.”

“Shut it.” A small laugh broke out on her lips but it was just as quickly turned into another coughing fit, Rafael’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her back until she’d calmed down.

“Okay, let’s get you into the bathroom, at the very least the steam from the shower might help loosen some of that up and if you’re too dizzy a lazy washcloth shower will do, you’re just gonna sweat through your next sleep again anyways.”

“Are you planning to stay glued to my side the whole day? I’m not letting you in the bathroom with me.”

“Okay, then you can enjoy cracking your head open on the tub when you fall.” He squeezed at her side gently, nudging her in the direction of the bathroom and she tried to shoot him a glare but her vision suddenly blurred and she paused a moment to shake out of it.

“Fine.”

Rita made him stay out of the bathroom until she was stripped down and hidden behind the shower curtain but did admit defeat and let him know she was sitting down after a couple of minutes. Even if it wasn’t the dizziness it was the general unwell feeling aching through her muscles, the shakiness of her hands as she tried to scrub the sickness away.

“You know maybe if you hadn’t skipped dinner last night you’d be able to make it through a shower.” Rafael called over the water.

“I didn’t skip dinner.”

“Rita, there were all of two bites taken out of that pasta and we both know it.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” She protested back, reaching up to turn off the taps, “and I was exhausted. I chose sleep over nourishment. Hand me a towel.” A warm, fluffy green one popped up between the shower curtain and the wall,

“Be careful when you stand up, and I’m leaving clothes on the basin for you.”

“Thanks.”

Rita waited until she heard the bathroom door click shut before she managed her way to her feet, cautiously stepping out of the tub to dry herself off. She couldn’t help but softly smile at the pile of clothes Rafael had left out for her, a pair of plaid pyjama pants of his that she tended to steal out of the laundry, a worn high school debate club shirt of her own and a Harvard hoodie they weren’t entirely sure who the correct owner was at this point. Pulling the hoodie tighter around her with a little shiver she padded out to the main part of the apartment, the television was on low, textbooks and note pads strewn across the coffee table next to a half full coffee cup. She made a beeline for the couch, tugging the blanket off the back of it before collapsing onto the cushions and wrapping it around herself. She snagged the remote, turning the volume up a bit before starting to channel surf to find something more entertaining to watch.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.”

“Good.” He chuckled, “it’s for you.”

“What?” She asked with a croak, sitting up and looking over the back of the couch to Raf in the kitchen.

“I figured you were coming down with something so I ran to the store this morning, picked up ingredients for soup.”

“Can’t that just come out of a can?”

“Sure. If you want bland, unseasoned crap.” He laughed, turning the heat down to a simmer, “didn’t your mom ever make you soup when you were sick as a kid?”

“Bold of you to assume my mother ever cooked anything for me. And if I was sick she’d throw some children’s Advil in the direction of my father and shuttle me off to the nannies for the week.”

“No wonder you hate being sick so much.” He frowned, crossing through the room, “it’s not about the actual illness, is it?”

“Being sick sucks.” Rita sighed, dropping back into the cushions, burrowing under the blanket as Raf perched on the arm of the couch. “You already feel like crap, you can’t do anything, your energy is zapped, you either have no appetite or you’re throwing up constantly. You’re not allowed to go to school and nobody wants anything to do with you so you’re holed up on your own feeling like you’re in isolation until you’re better.”

“You were the kid who sat up studying and doing homework while off sick, weren’t you?” He raised a brow in her direction and she looked up at him with a sheepish expression before scoffing.

“Yeah.” She tugged the blanket tighter under her chin, “can’t fall behind.”

“Well then be glad it’s the weekend.” He teased, a hand coming to ruffle at her hair and he clicked his tongue, “did you seriously wash your hair and not dry it?”

“I seem to remember getting lectured about not standing for too long.” She glared up at him and he rolled his eyes.

“If you sleep with it like this it’s going to be a tangled mess when you wake up and I already don’t wanna hear it. Gimmie a second.”

Rita let out a huff, her gaze falling back onto the television as he disappeared from the room. She heard the click of the kettle as he passed through the kitchen before he wandered down the hall for a couple of minutes, rustling around in one of the other rooms. By the time he came back the water was boiling and when he returned to the couch there was a steaming mug in his hand thrust into Rita’s line of sight.

“Sit up.” He instructed, “and take this.”

She grumbled but did as he asked, sitting with her back against the arm of the couch as Rafael situated himself on it once again. She noticed that the tea wasn’t one of their usual tea bags, a mix of scents wafting off the beverage and a cinnamon stick floating inside of it. Behind her, Rafael’s fingers shook out her damp hair, making sure he wasn’t going to come across any large knots before parting it down the center and starting to make two French braids. She let out a little happy hum, appreciative in the way that he wasn’t shying away from her when she was sick, that he hadn’t banished her to her bedroom until she was better, he didn’t seem to have any issues with potentially picking up whatever germs she was carrying. Truthfully, that was because he knew she had likely been contagious all week and they shared practically everything already. They frequently stole food off each other’s plates, finished the other person’s coffee and used the same utensils. Whenever Rita found the time to bake he knew she regularly licked batter off the mixing spoon to make sure it tasted good before continuing to make whatever she was making. Germs was just something added to the list of things they shared.

“There’s something in this I can’t place.” She murmured as Rafael began the second braid and he laughed softly.

“Likely the garlic.”

“Garlic?!” She tried to turn her head and only managed to yank the hair he was currently holding, wincing as she turned her head back forward, “why?”

“It’s one of Mami’s classic recipes.” He replied with a shrug, nodding toward the stove, “same with the soup. Anytime I was sick she’d make a huge batch of both to last all week. When I was younger there was usually homemade bread to go along with it and I got to either sleep on the couch all week or in her bed. Extra popsicles too. While the actual illness sucked there were definitely some upsides to getting to stay home sick.”

“Sounds fake.” Rita grumbled, taking another swig of the tea.

“Well we’ve figured out by now that we had very different childhoods.” He wrapped the elastic around the second brain, then leant forward, kissing the top of her head, “you’re all done. Hungry?”

“Tired.” She replied back, draining the last of her tea before placing it down on the coffee table as Rafael climbed off the side of the couch.

“Alright. Get some rest, I’ll make sure to be quiet.”

“Where are you going?” She whined, pouting at him as he headed back to the kitchen.

“Figured you wanted to sleep.”

“I kinda hijacked your hangout place.” She gestured to the coffee table covered in his things.

“I can set up in the kitchen, or my room.”

“You really don’t have to.”

Rafael watched the way she frowned, the little shiver that danced through her body before his lips split into a grin, “you want me to stay.” He sauntered back over to the couch, “don’t you? Sick Rita is needy Rita, isn’t she? You want more cuddles.”

“Well I don’t wanna be alone.” She deflected and he laughed, “besides, just a little nap for the drugs to kick in and then I want some of that soup.”

“Alright.” Smirking he nudged her shoulder so she could sit up again and dropped onto the couch, “make yourself at home.”

Rita collapsed into his lap, letting out a happy sigh when his hand automatically landed in her hair, fingertips gently rubbing at her scalp. It only took a couple of minutes before she was asleep again, snoring softly and Rafael tucked the blanket in a little tighter around her shoulders. She’d been sick a couple of times during their years at Harvard but this was the first time when they’d been living together and now he felt a little bad for not checking up on her when he was still in the dorms. She clearly craved the contact and honestly had no clue how to take care of herself, it was no wonder the flu in first year took her out for a full two weeks.

The hand he had in her hair softly moved to her back, rubbing slow circles through the blanket, making sure she was as comfortable as she could get while she slept. She needed the rest and now he really knew just how touch starved she was, certain that if he even got up to use the bathroom she would be whining in her sleep. Halfway through the afternoon he felt his eyes drooping, whatever she’d chosen on the television serving zero interest to him and he gingerly shifted her so he could slide between her and the back of the couch, wrapping her in his arms as he slipped under the blanket.

The timer on the stove woke them up just as the sun was starting to set, jolting them both out of their calm sleeps.

“Sorry.” He murmured, slowly untangling their limbs.

“S’okay.” She replied with a yawn, “probably wouldn’t sleep through the night otherwise.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed at her shoulder, “feeling better?”

“A bit.”

“Take some more meds.”

“Is it time for soup?” She asked, rubbing at her eyes as she sat up and he couldn’t help but smile at just how little she looked right now.

“Yeah.” He padded through the kitchen, flicking the burner off before digging through the pantry, “you want some of this sourdough with it?”

“Please.”

A moment later Rita let out a happy groan at the smells wafting through the room as Rafael took the lid off the pot and added a few last minute things. She picked up her water, swallowing down a couple more pills before she shifted on the couch, nestling into the corner so Rafael could sit beside her. She flicked through a couple of channels until she found one of their joint favourite movies about to start and hummed in satisfaction.

“Here.” Rafael returned to the couch with the food, a fresh mug of tea placed on the table for her, “careful it’s hot.”

“Smells amazing.”

“Surprised you’ve still got a sense of smell.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s more in my throat.”

“That I can tell,” he grinned, “you sound like Kermit.”

“Fuck you.” She muttered, opting to ignore him and focus on the soup instead, humming softly when the flavours hit her tongue. Beside her Rafael simply smiled, glad that she was actually eating and getting nutrients in while sick instead of living off saltine crackers.

Empty bowls of soup lay abandoned on the coffee table, Rita’s mug of tea refilled and Rafael had grabbed a beer from the fridge for himself. The movie was just over halfway through and Rita was neatly tucked under Raf’s arm, nestled into the crook of his neck while his hand softly rubbed up and down her arm. Her breathing was pretty regulated, only small coughs here and there now that Rafael had dug through the bathroom until he found some cough syrup from his last bought of illness for her. She was no longer alternating between shivering and being too hot, having to shove the blanket off her, a happy medium where she was slowly starting to feel like an actual human again.

“Rafa?” She asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He turned his face to leave a gentle kiss on the top of her hair, “that’s what best friends are for.”

A comfortable silence took over them as the movie began to wrap up before she quietly spoke again.

“Raf?” This time her voice was almost timid and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yes you can sleep in my bed again tonight.”

________________

@svulife-rl rl @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @godard-muse @thatesqcrush @daddy-heather-dunbar @alcabots @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @originalbrunettecharacter @swimmingstudentchaos891 @prentiss-theorem @witches-unruly-heart @plaidbooks

#law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit #rita calhoun #rafael barba #barhoun #rita calhoun x rafael barba #platonic!barhoun #bestie!barhoun #harvard au #roomate au

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atlassiix · 11 days ago

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would #manwhore au ody and poseidon be 600 strokes instead of 600 strike?

#epic the vengeance saga #poseidon #manwhore au #epic odysseus #odysseus #i'm an intellectual #harvards calling me #dude the reblogs on this post are way too funny

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lumosinlove · 1 year ago

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Vaincre

May Part Four

cw: discussion of past abuse; injury description (no blood)

note: Ao3 appears to be down, but...it’s been a long time coming and finally May p.4, otherwise known to me as The Brothers Chapter, is finally ready! <3

Remus had begun dreaming of the cottage. Lake soil, campfires, and sun-warmed wood. When he woke up, it brought a smile to his face. When he looked around, remembered just where he was and what they all were in the middle of, it made him feel guilty.

There was no time for dreaming of summer. Not right now.

But ground workouts and basketball was turning Sirius’ skin gold, so much so that he even brought the budding summer into the harsh, blue lights of the practice rinks. His eyes lightened—concentrated, gray mountain waters—and the cut on his cheek from that pick-up shot faded to a pink line. Lily and Celeste bothered about dates and venues, caterers and flowers. Natalie wanted to know if she could sing a few songs. They took his parents out to dinner, Julian wanting to re-watch highlights of the two games until even Sirius got tired. His mother let them be, though. If she understood anything, it was the focus that hockey took. How it became life and blood and air.

Remus dreamed of the cottage. The Stanley Cup resting on a high table somewhere, silver as Sirius’ eyes, hard-fought and hard-won. Lights strung out on the dock. Husband. Till Death. It would feel, he thought, much like a hard, celebratory slam into the boards. He wanted this particular win to be shocked into his bones and skin, hard and fast as adrenaline that could not be washed off in a shower with the sweat. Slipping the band onto Sirius’ finger, the one he’d been planning out for months now. Silver. Silver, silver, silver, wrapping around both of their lives. Clutched beneath hands, raised above head, brought to lips, finding him in any room.

“What about this one?”

Sirius was holding out a fork to him. Silver. Remus let him nudge it between his lips and chewed thoughtfully. Vanilla. Raspberry filling. Too sweet frosting.

“I think I like the chocolate better,” he said.

“Tu n’aimes pas la vanille.” Sirius went in for another bite, shaking his head. “I don’t get it.”

Remus laughed. “I’m sorry, but literally all of the chocolate ones are better than that.”

“I don’t know, Loops, the vanilla cinnamon is kind of to die for.”

Remus looked across the round table at Leo, whose tasting card was filled with notes in the margins. He was scribbling something now even as he smiled slyly at Remus.

“You just like feeding it to Logan,” Remus said.

Logan, who had scooted his chair so close to Leo that he could have been half in his lap, nodded. “Ouais.” He nudged his nose against Leo’s shoulder until Leo scooped up his fork again and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders as he leaned forward to choose another bite for him.

“He’s sweet like cinnamon, what can I say? Little spicy, too.” Leo said, and Logan put his head on Leo’s shoulder as he chewed. “You know, most people get a sugar high. Why does it calm you down?”

“You calm me down,” Logan said. He lifted his head up and looked over at one of the neighboring tables. “Dev, what do you think?”

Luke was sitting beside Saint and Evgeni, looking only a little uncomfortable. He shrugged and held up his card. “This seem like a lot of numbers for something as simple as cake.”

Sirius, to Remus’ surprise, laughed. “Agreed.”

Luke smiled a little. “Rankings? I feel like I just have a favorite.”

Saint made a tisking sound. “Tweedle, eat your Victorian sponge and stop complaining.”

“I say this one.” Evgeni brandished a fork with what looked like a sample of lemon. “So good, come on. Not even big choice, this is it!” He ignored the fork and picked up the rest of the slice with his hand, grinning as he chewed. “Cap, c’mon!”

Sirius raised his cup of coffee towards him. “Thanks, Kuns.” He took a sip and wrapped an arm around the back of Remus’ chair. “Why did we invite the entire team again?”

Remus leaned over him to get at the chocolate and buttercream. “Because we love them. But…you know. We’re never gonna make a decision now.”

“Maybe we just give everyone their cake of choice.”

“Real practical of us.”

“All right, Le,” Finn said, clapping his hands together. “Lo, cover his eyes.”

Logan arched a brow but was soon smiling in understanding. He reached out to cover Leo’s eyes with a palm.

“Hey,” Leo said. “Why?”

Finn and Logan just laughed silently as they both reached forward to scramble the cards labeling which cake was which.

“Hold on,” Finn said.

“Wait,” Logan added, and pushed around a few plates, too.

“Oh, good one,” Finn said. “All right, go.”

Logan uncovered Leo’s eyes, blue blinking against the light. “Match the cake to the card.”

“Oh.” Leo grinned and clapped his hands together. “Hit me, Greenie.”

Logan made a face. “Greenie?”

Leo shrugged. “It slipped out. Pick one.”

“All the way on the left,” Remus cut in, pointing. “That one.”

Leo took a fork full and chewed thoughtfully. “German chocolate, so easy.” He put the right card in front of it. Remus caught Sirius’ eye, and he thought they were both smiling at the feeling in the room. Remus leaned in, relishing in the twenty different threads of attention that were being woven around them. It left them in the eye of the storm, calm and cloudy.

“I’ve been thinking of the cabin.”

Sirius looked over at him just as Leo put another card in place. Chocolate Blackout. He smeared some across Finn’s pale cheek, leaving a dark streak behind. Logan leaned across him, grabbed Finn’s chin in his hand, and licked it right up.

“Will you please find your chill?” Alex called from his place next to Natalie and Kasey.

“No,” Finn called back.

“The cabin,” Sirius repeated. “To go this summer?” His cup clinked against its saucer as he set it down. “Ouais, of course.”

Remus just shook his head and took his hand, resting their pressed-together palms on his thigh. Sirius’ face opened up.

“Wedding,” he said.

Remus nodded, and when Sirius smiled, so did he.

Leo had suggested the pier where Finn’s birthday had been, and it had become a sort of default image for anyone thinking about the wedding. Sunny. Food trucks. A beautiful place, really, and in the heart of this city that meant so much to all of them.

But Remus had seen the look that had crossed Sirius’ face. Public. Very public. No way to keep out any unwanted visitors. Remus understood, but in the dark, window-filled gloss of the bus taking them from JFK airport to their hotel for Game Three in Madison Square Garden, Sirius finally whispered the fear to him.

“I’m scared that they’re going to show up.”

He’d pushed himself further with his nose tucked up under Remus’ chin once they were in the hotel bed, making the tightly tucked sheets feel warm just by being together.

“I know they can’t hurt me. Or you. I don’t want them near Reg.” A long, long pause, and then a voice tight with tears. “I don’t want them near Jules.”

An even longer pause, accompanied only by the stroke of Remus’ fingers through his hair, letting him keep his eyes closed, letting him take his time.

“I hate that I cry when I talk about this,” Sirius whispered. “But…I don’t mind crying in front of you so much anymore.”

“They won’t show up,” Remus said. He pressed a kiss to Sirius’ forehead, pushing away the dark waves to do it. Golden skin, soaking in the light he was never given. “Besides, between Hope and your mother, who do you think would win?”

“I don’t want Hope to have to fight for me,” Sirius said. “I want it to be…” He swallowed around the tears. “They won’t show up.”

“No,” Remus said. “But I’m telling you for any day, any time. You’re not facing it alone.” Remus turned on his side. “And when I put that ring on your finger, when you put another one on mine…” Sirius’ cheeks were wet, his lips, when Remus kissed him. “It’s because I love you more than anything.”

Sirius’ hand reached up and pressed between Remus’ shoulders. “The cabin is perfect. I don’t think I said that before. Re, it’s perfect.”

“I know.” Giddiness spilled through Remus’ chest. Sirius was getting better at this part. Hard words didn’t mean a hard night. There was happiness. “I’ll marry you, then I’ll push you in the lake.”

There was happiness.

Nothing could have proved those words truer than the laugh Sirius let out into the dark room.

“You boys have been doing that to your bread since I can remember.” Haley O’Hara shook her head at her two sons, both with globs of the soft part of the bread being rolled between their fingers.

Finn just smiled and held his up. “Bread balls, Mom.” He added his to the pile he and Alex had accumulated, as if they were preparing snowballs for a fight.

“More like ammo,” Alex said. “Besides. We deserve bread balls after that game. Even if you stupid Lions did win. We’ll get you next time.” Alex reached across the table and held a fist out to Logan. “We make a good team, Tremblay.”

Logan smiled and bumped it. “Ouais.”

“Dare I say better than you and my little brother?”

Logan slapped his fist away and the table laughed.

Alex held the mush out to Kasey. “Kase, eat it.”

“Bread that you’ve been putting your hands all over for the last three minutes,” Kasey said with narrowed eyes. “Hm.”

“Oh yeah? You like my hands.”

“Alexander, control yourself.” Natalie laughed, hitting him in the arm. “It’s not like I’m sitting next to your mother or anything.”

“Hey, not news to me. You two must be doing something right. ” Haley waved her off. “I mean, damn, if you had told me I’d get so many kid-in-laws…”

Ramsey shrugged. “What was in those pregnancy vitamins you was taking, that’s what I’d like to know.”

Alex and Finn’s smiles matched from their white, straight teeth, sharp incisors, to the scrunched points of their nose.

“What can we say, Hal,” Ramsey said, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair. “We gave our boys big hearts. There’s obviously enough to go around.”

“God, guys,” Alex rubbed the side of his face, cheek red. “Okay, all right.”

“No, no,” Natalie said. “Please keep making him blush.” She pecked Alex on the cheek. “You started it, also.”

Finn was half in disbelief, looking around at their table. The restaurant’s light was low, candles reflecting off of the shiny wood of the tables. They had bread and salt and olive oil. His dad had tasted the wine, a light red for their pasta. Leo on his right, Logan on his left. Leo’s gentle, just-the-two of them smiles. Logan’s hand on his thigh under the table. It all felt so normal. Like he had always, always been meant to end up here.

“Well, I guess I’ll take a moment before all the food gets here.” Ramsey picked up his glass.

Finn, as he got older, was able to see more and more of himself in his father. He’d always been able to see himself in his mother, but his link to his dad was subtler. Smile lines and gestures. Interests and passions. A love for books. A love for hockey. Ramsey, throwing himself to the world and hoping someone would catch his fall. Ramsey, the day Haley had caught him. Finn, throwing himself with just as much trust—maybe too much trust. Until Leo, Finn hadn’t been sure he would be able to avoid the crash. He’d hung onto Logan by his fingertips for so long that he had almost come to get used to the expected, eventual drop. It was such a relief—even now, to feel Logan slide their palms together against his thigh and hold on tight, skin warm and calloused. Such a relief to watch Leo tear a bit of his bread off, roll it into a small ball, and add it to their pile.

His dad cleared his throat again. “I’m not sure who to cheers to…Rangers or Lions. So, how’s this, I guess.” He laughed and raised his glass. “To the Lions being up one, but also to a long and well-fought series. To game four in two days time,” He looked pointedly at his youngest son. “And no more close calls.”

Finn shook his head and smiled, though the motion had partially been to shake off the memory of going down hard yesterday. He’d felt everyone he loved hold their breath, even as he got right back up again, and he’d understood why when he’d later watched the replay. It hadn’t looked good. It had looked like the edge of the boards caught him in the mouth, when in truth they’d only just missed him.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Haley said. “So, I’ll make a cheers of my own.” She picked up her wine. “Here’s to love—big and small and in twos and threes. We know it was hard there for a while.” She smile softly. “Kasey, Lo, we’re just so happy that…Ugh, god damn, you know.” She blinked fast, laughing.

Beneath the table, Logan’s thumb swiped over Finn’s knuckles three times.

“What’s life without a little rain,” Alex said. He was fingering his necklace.

“Blondies to the rescue, eh?” Ramsey laughed, reaching out to tussle Leo’s hair.

“We have a knack for it.” Natalie raised her glass and clinked it with Leo’s.

“Hey, I’m blond,” Kasey said.

“You’re dirty blond,” Natalie replied.

Alex smiled, stretching a hand around the back of Kasey’s chair. “Now who started it?” Natalie stuck her tongue out at him.

“Goalies to the rescue, then,” Logan said. He drew their hands out from beneath the table, letting them rest on the wood beside the bread. Finn stared at their hands, maybe for too long. It was an old dream come to life. He used to knock elbows with Logan at team dinners and wonder what might happen if he just…just for a second, grabbed his hand. And now there they were, laced together.

“Leo,” Haley said. “I know I could say where would these two—” she gestured between Finn and Logan. “—knuckleheads be without you, but I think it’s much more than that. Soulmates aren’t just two halves, I know that for sure now. Finn lights up in ten different colors when you’re around.”

Finn could feel one of those colors heating his cheeks. “Mom…”

But he looked at Leo and grabbed his hand, too. If he didn’t eat dinner, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to let go.

“And Natalie.” Haley grinned brighter. “Here’s to what is sure to be an absolutely stunning wedding.”

“Two weddings,” Natalie said, flashing dark eyelashes at Alex. “Eventually.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but Finn knew his brother. He knew his brother by how their hearts pounded alike, hard and in free-fall.

After, when the others were calling their Ubers, Alex put a hand on his shoulder and drew him back. They had accidentally worn the same shirt—navy button down, the top two undone. Finn wasn’t even sure they had the excuse of having both received it for Christmas or their birthday, he was fairly certain it had simply happened.

“Let’s walk,” Alex said. “Like we used to?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, all right.” He turned to Leo and dropped a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll meet you at home?”

Leo nodded. “Love you.” He turned Finn’s face back towards him for another, proper kiss, then whispered softly, just for the two of them. “Harz?”

Finn rubbed a palm up his side. Leo looked stunning tonight. White button-down rolled up at the forearms, accenting his tan skin and rainbow bracelet. Logan’s necklace against his chest.

“I love your family,” he whispered. “I love getting to know Alex more…and I love knowing that me, you, and Lo aren’t the only ones like us out there.”

Finn, of course, in free-fall as he was, instantly got choked up. “Le…They love you, too. I love you.”

Leo smiled. “Also, thanks for dinner.”

After much bickering with Alex and a my baby’s all grown up from his father, Finn had been allowed to pick up the check.

“Everything that’s mine is yours,” Finn said.

Leo tilted forward and kissed him hard before ducking into the car, smiling.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” His mother wrapped her arms around him, hand rubbing his back. “Don’t let your brother keep you out too late.”

He squeezed her shoulders as she pulled back. “No problem, Mom.”

She smiled up at him, stroking a hand through his hair. He felt her fingers pause at the back of his skull. The very points of his concussions. Her smile wavered, just a tad. He hated that he could do that to her. His carefree, always smiling mother. He’d made her cry twice. He didn’t even want to think about what might’ve gone through her mind tonight.

“My beautiful boy,” she said. “Be safe, okay, baby?”

Finn nodded. “We’re okay, Mom. We’re just going for a walk.”

“I know,” she said. She straightened his collar. “I know. Okay, okay, I’m getting in the car now.”

Finn smiled. “I love you, you know.”

“Love you too, Fish. Not sure how I feel about this beard, though.”

“You and me both!” Leo called from the car.

“Oh, hard no, I love it,” Natalie said.

“They’re talking about Finn, hon.” Kasey said, laughing.

“Once love an O’Hara beard, always love an O’Hara beard.”

“I like it.”

Finn looked over at Logan, who had spoke. He had his elbows on the car door. Waiting to say goodnight, Finn realized. Summery wind ruffled his dark hair and his green eyes stood out in the street light.

He stepped aside for Haley to get into the car beside Ramsey and looked up at Finn.

Finn put a hand on his cheek. “Guess what?”

Logan tilted his chin into Finn. He looked so good, too. As firm as ever, at the peak of his strength at this point in the season. Finn wanted to undo the buttons of his shirt one-by-one and watch them reveal his chest, the hills and valleys of his strength that Finn could run his mouth over a hundred times. The dark ink at his hip.

“I like holding your hand at dinner tables,” Finn said. He could tell him the rest later.

Logan smiled, small and private, and then his eyes landed on Alex waiting on the sidewalk a few steps away. Finn looked back at him, quiet. He was well versed in Logan. He didn’t need words. But Logan gave them now, and Finn collected them like precious coins.

Logan put a hand on Finn’s chest, making him step down off the curb and onto the lower street. He then stepped up onto the curb, bringing them closer in height, and kissed Finn goodnight. Wind picked up and surrounded him with Logan, who could probably feel Finn’s heart pick up, too, beneath his palm.

“You should tell him,” Logan said. “Everything.”

Everything. Finn wondered how long it would take for something like that to even come out. In the right way. Using the right words.

“Yeah.” Finn took a breath. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Remus had had something on his mind the entire plane ride, Sirius had been sure of it. Coach had made them all swear to a ten AM practice tomorrow morning before their flight back to Gryffindor for Game Four, and then let them loose for an evening off. Part of Sirius wanted to fall into their hotel bed, arms tucked around Remus’ waist, and just sleep. Up one, his mind chanted at him. Up one, up one, hold on hold onto it hold onto it.

It had taken watching Finn’s parents pick up Finn, Leo, Logan, Alex, Natalie, and Kasey for dinner to realize that the voice chanting inside his head belonged to his father. After that, it seemed hilarious that he would ever be able to sleep.

Remus, of course, as usual, could read his mind.

He surprised Sirius every day, but as he wordlessly took Sirius’ hand and lead him out of the hotel, he didn’t even look at a map before leading them effortlessly down the street. They reached a set of stairs marked by a huge C, and Remus swiped a card and they were on a train with a matching letter.

“I didn’t know you knew how to navigate the subway.”

“While the team took car services everywhere, I took the trains,” Remus replied. “It’s nice to feel like you can get anywhere on your own.”

When Sirius stumbled at a particularly hard jerk of the car, Remus’ arm circled his waist, warm through his shirt, and kept him steady—though he was definitely laughing at him.

“Shut up,” Sirius grumbled, eyeing two young women who were not holding onto anything and had hardly swayed an inch.

“My ten foot tall baby lion.” Remus angled his head up, asking for a kiss. “Still growing into his paws. Better hold on tight.”

Sirius ducked his smile into Remus’ soft mouth and lay his fingers over Remus’ on the metal pole.

The street they came up on was filled with restaurants and outdoor cafe tables. Each glow held something. Soft candles. The sound of a cocktail shaker interrupting the beat of music. Laughter. Wine glasses catching the light. The scent of basil, or steak. A waiter bringing out a birthday cake and a guy half covering his embarrassed grin while his friends sang to him, loud and off-key.

Anonymous. These people were living, simple and true, in the gentle May night.

“Here we are,” Remus said.

A blinking sign and steep stairs down. Sirius could hear the jazz filtering upward.

“Are you…taking me dancing again?”

“Technically I’m taking you dancing for the first time.” Remus squeezed their locked hands and gave him the grin that Sirius felt no one else understood. It would seem sly to a stranger, but it wasn’t. There was nothing tricky about it. This was the look Remus reserved for when he knew he had taken a turn that both of them wanted. “You took me last time.”

The two tickets Remus bought took them down to a room that was small and crowded. Low ceilings had lights strung from them, and the musicians were on a slightly raised stage. Stools were pushed close together at the bar, out of the way for those dancing, but Remus managed to find them two. He ordered ginger beers.

“I figure you wouldn’t want to drink just now,” he said, complete with a kiss to Sirius’ shoulder.

Sirius felt just as anonymous as all of the others around them. A couple beside them even asked what they did for a living. He and Remus shared a look, and then Sirius hid his laugh in the straw of his drink when Remus vaguely answered, “Sports Entertainment.”

The set changed as they sat there, new musicians replacing the old ones. Bass, piano, drums, trumpet. Couples swirled around them, old and young. Some in suits and dresses, some in t-shirts and shorts. Sirius’ eye caught on two men, middle-aged, holding each other close and laughing at something that looked secret, just for the two of them. As they turned slow, he caught the flash of two gold bands on their fingers.

Sirius took a last sip of their drinks before taking Remus’ out of his hand and setting it down.

“Forget the drinks,” Sirius said, and took Remus’ hand. “Come here.”

No one looked twice. That was the best part. When Sirius wrapped Remus up close and Remus looped his hands around Sirius’ neck, no one was taken away from the music. They could simply sway there together.

“You look handsome, mon loup,” Sirius said, leaning in to press their cheeks together. “I can’t believe how handsome you are.”

“Look who’s talking,” Remus’ voice said in his ear. They were just in t-shirts, Remus wearing dark-washed jeans and plain sneakers. He could have been in a perfectly tailored suit, for all Sirius saw. He would always look just as good. The song was slow and right out of a movie, one of the ones Finn and Leo made them watch sometimes. Sirius felt like they should be off to a War or something. One last night with a sweetheart. Maybe, in a way, they were. In the middle of one, at least.

“Sirius?” Remus whispered.

“Ouais?”

“I know this year’s been hard for us. But I want you to know…I want you to know it’s also been one of the best of my life. And I don’t mean the NHL.”

Sirius smiled and took Remus’ hand from around his neck briefly to press a kiss to the ring there.

“And I know it’s been hard making this second run for the Cup.” Remus’ fingers laced around the back of Sirius’ neck. “And with your parents, with everything that’s being brought up.” He leaned up on his toes and Sirius held him tighter in his arms. “You’re just…”

“Just what?”

The piano took over from the trumpet solo and there was a some light applause. He liked the lights in here. They lit the edges of Remus’ hair like fireflies.

He thought maybe Remus would pull back to look him in the eye, but he didn’t. He kept them close.

“I’m proud of you. You’re my—you’re mine,” Remus said. “You’re my love but you’re also…you protect me. I just want you to know that.”

Mine. Mine. How did it sound so sweet coming from Remus, and never anywhere else?

“I want you to know,” Remus whispered again. Sirius closed his eyes.

Go, go, go. Again, again. Regulus’ face, young and afraid. They had never looked as though their home was an ill place. Perfect nutrition. Perfect sleeping habits. Perfect grades. It hadn’t occurred to him until years later, with Pascal sitting on the edge of his bed.

Perfection is an unfair thing to ask, Pascal had said. Very unfair.

Pascal’s face, sad and disappointed, as Sirius had left him sitting there in the hallway. He wanted to talk about it. He did.

“What if I couldn’t?” Sirius swallowed. “One day. One day, what if I couldn’t protect you?”

“I couldn’t protect you from hurting your ankle,” Remus whispered. “Or your ribs. I couldn’t protect you from…”

He trailed off, but Sirius didn’t need him to finish. Sirius pulled back, though, to look at him.

Remus’ smile was shaky, eyes brimmed. He reached up to tuck Sirius’ hair behind his ear. “Do you think I can’t protect you?”

“You saved me,” Sirius said. “Always.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you saved me, too?”

Sirius thought he might start crying, right then and there. “I’d love to think I did.”

“And Reg.”

Sirius closed his eyes. “Not soon enough.”

Remus cupped Sirius’ cheeks in his hands and stopped dancing. A single fixed point on the floor. “What, and I got to you soon enough? You got to me?”

“Re…”

“It’s not about timing.” Remus cuddled close, as close as he could while still swaying. “We got to each other. We did it. All right?”

Sirius huffed, but smiled. Remus reached out and swiped a thumb over his bottom lip.

“You know, I’d only want you to call me yours,” Sirius said.

Remus smiled. “Wouldn’t let anyone else.” He shook his head. “I love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you,” Sirius pressed their foreheads together, then kissed him slowly. “Now let me spin you.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but allowed Sirius to turn him around once before pulling him in close again.

They took a cab back to the hotel. Close in the back seat. Remus tugging gently at Sirius’ black t-shirt. They hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, but Sirius still felt like it. Maybe from the night, the late hour. Maybe from the music. Maybe from the flash of Remus’ grin in the passing headlights. He felt almost bashful when they entered the bright hotel lobby, as if people could see it on them, how much they wanted each other, how they were in a rush to be alone again.

“Lunch with my parents and Jules tomorrow,” Remus said in the elevator. “Back in Gryf.”

Sirius only nodded, unwilling to remove his mouth from Remus’ neck. Remus had begun to arch into him, letting out a soft sound as Sirius put a hand over where he was hardening in his jeans.

The lights in their hotel room were off, the door slammed shut too loudly behind them, and Sirius drank in Remus’ laugh and oops like water.

You’re mine, everything in him sang. You’re mine.

When his back hit the cool sheets of their bed, he realized.

He hadn’t thought of the game once. Everything in him was quiet, except this.

Finn and Alex ended up where they always ended up. The Ship. Where they’d used fake IDs. Where they’d had some great kisses, watched some great games. The bartender knew them and slyly shooed a couple to a different table so they could have their old corner spot, close and in the heart of the restaurant, but facing each other, identical red-heads bent close.

“Two Jamesons neat, Liz, thanks,” Alex said.

Liz scoffed, throwing her brown hair off of her shoulder. “As if I don’t your drill by now.”

Finn wrapped his knuckles on the wood as he slid onto his stool. He loved this seat. He wished he could buy three of these exact stools for the apartment. Six, for each apartment, Gryffindor and New York. “Kids doing okay?”

“Oh, you know.” She rolled her eyes as she went for the top shelf. “Middle school.”

“Middle school,” Finn and Alex repeated in unison, wrinkling their noses.

She just laughed and set their glasses down. “There you go, boys. Hey, the whole place has been watching the series.”

“Oh yeah?” Alex said, taking a sip. “You like watching us duke it out?”

“You bet,” Liz called over her shoulder, going to deal with another customer.

It left them alone, soaked in familiarity.

“I love these stools,” Alex said, and Finn smiled.

“Me too.” He held out his glass. “Cheers, Al.”

Alex grinned. “To beating you.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Nice try.”

“Fine, fine.” Alex held his glass up again. “To pulling through hard times.”

They took the first sip in silence. Alex looked towards a rowdy group, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. Finn watched the diamond around his neck glint on its long chain. It was somehow flashier than anything Alex usually wore, and also understated. Finn took another drink. Everything.

“How are we the way we are,” Alex began softly before he could say anything. “And we never…we never talked about it all?”

“The way we are?” Finn managed to ask. He was aware of the couple at his side getting up, gathering their bags and waving a thanks to Liz. It was late, he supposed, though he felt wired enough for nine in the morning.

Alex shrugged. “We talk all the time. We talked all the time while I was in school. While you were. Saw each other every chance we got. How many weekends did you drive home to see me from Harvard? So fucking many.”

Finn could only nod. “I know.”

“So, how have we not…” Alex trailed off. He took another drink. “We never told each other anything.”

Finn wasn’t sure exactly how to tell his brother just how close he had come, and how often. The soft lingerings before hanging up the phone. He felt the same hesitation now, stuck in his throat. Everything.

What had Logan’s everything been? he wanted to know. When he’d told his sisters. Bagel shop, light on the cream cheese, wrinkling his nose at the everything bagels that Finn loved and then stealing a bite. The roof. The roof. Putting their mouths to the same bottle.

“That was such a nice dinner,” Alex said. “Jesus. Tremz fucking holding your hand the whole time.”

Finn flexed his fingers against his thigh. Logan and Leo’s skin felt ingrained in his own. “Maybe he feels like he has a little bit to prove to Mom and Dad.”

“Maybe.” Alex shrugged. “Maybe he just loves you and always has.”

Someone changed the song. Loud to soft. Finn had a flash of a memory. Watching Logan across a room, quiet music letting them find each other. Door closing. Mouths getting so close. One of the only times Logan had said his name while they were that close. He’d come so close to finally getting to kiss him. What would have happened if no one had knocked?

“He asked me if I hated him.” Alex hid the words partially behind his glass.

“What?” Alarms flew at the base of Finn’s skull.

“For doing what he did in school, yeah,” Alex said. “And—”

“And you told him you didn’t know.”

“I told him I never knew enough to hate him,” Alex clarified.

“Would you have? If you had known?”

Finn knew it was mostly curiosity that had gotten the better of him. If Finn had given Alex the chance, would he have been defensive? Angry?

Alex’s mouth pulled to the side. “Hate sounds too strong. But if I…I don’t know. I mean, you guys were best friends. I thought there was something, maybe, but…I couldn’t hate him. And you never said anything.”

“I know. I know I didn’t.”

“So, tell me now, Fish,” Alex said.

And it spilled. All of it. Out of them both. First true loves. First real ones. The first ones that had hurt as much as they’d healed. First kisses.

“Lied to me, told me we needed to take care of one of our teammates and then wouldn’t let me leave the bedroom.” Finn laughed, pinching his brow as he remembered. “Did a little more than kiss, to be honest.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Alex laughed. “Lo went that fast that soon? Logan?”

“I know, you’d think he was too freaked, right? But…”

“What, you mean you guys…”

Finn gave him a shove. “I’m not telling you, man.”

Alex laughed. “No, no, I just mean, what, you locked the door and got busy on the bed?”

“God no. We…you know.” Finn groaned when Alex laughed. “We were like standing up—whatever, stop laughing.” Finn smiled, but felt it fade a little. “We could barely look at each other.”

Alex’s mouth pulled to one side. “Fish…”

Finn just shook his head. Logan had been tangled in him for a long time before that night, but he’d knotted something deep with that first kiss. Finn didn’t think any pair of pliers would budge these strings. That fact used to hurt. Now he was glad. He wanted Logan wound so tight and close that they didn’t know how to breathe if not together.

“For Kase and I,” Alex said. “It was after we found out he got traded.”

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“Yeah. Kissed him in the airport.”

“Oh God. Al…”

“Then later, with Nat…well, she knew how I felt. I was so damn guilty about it, but when she asked, I said I did want her. Like, God, I wasn’t going to lie. I wanted her and Kasey more than anything.” Alex raised a brow. “Leo?”

“Oh, we’d been dancing around each other since he moved in,” Finn said. “Only…Leo was so…”

Alex tilted his head. “Willing?”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded hard. “But we were still both nervous to ruin anything. Friendship, anything like that.” He took a sip, and the whiskey was as warm as the memory. “But I kissed him. And he actually wanted to talk about it afterwards…He wanted…” Finn smiled sheepishly and Alex laughed just like he had with Logan. “He could look me in the eye.”

“I bet he could,” Alex said. “Leo’s a fucking sweetheart.”

“And he wanted to stay in bed afterwards and—and then we brought ice cream back and just sat there talking. Talking and talking…hours. And then, you know, later when Cap and Loops happened…Logan told me he loved me.” Finn shook his head, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat. “I mean, we always loved each other, but he’s in love with me and he’s actually looking right at me and he’s saying it, and then he’s holding onto me and it’s…it’s so different from…”

Nice.

The night in the ocean, warm and then so, so cold. Say something. Anything. Salt on Logan’s skin. Logan’s hands in his hair and on his back, the most he’d touched him in months. He had felt so willing, but it hadn’t been true. Not then.

“What happened?” Alex asked softly. “Where did you go just now?”

So willing.

“Do you remember when I went to Nice? With Logan.”

“Of course, I was so jealous.”

Finn let slip a ghost of a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Finn took a leisurely drink. He let himself panic for the time it took for the whiskey to warm its way down his throat.

“There was a moment,” Finn said slowly. “A moment there, in the ocean…we went for a night swim. And there was a moment when I really tried. Like, really, really tried. I put everything…you know. Flat out in the open. That I wanted him. More than anything. I really tried to…to make us something. I…I asked him…” Finn swallowed. “Fuck.”

Alex put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Fish.”

When Finn still couldn’t continue, Alex pushed, just a little.

“Logan made you think he would never love you,” he said carefully. “You so were worried about wanting Leo—”

“Logan never make me think he didn’t love me,” Finn said. “I always knew we loved each other. He just made me think he would never let himself admit he was in love with me.” He smiled, remembering. “Leo was the opposite. One night, he…he said it plain as day. I mean, Lo and I said it first, but Leo did us one better before we even got the chance. Told us straight up. I’m gonna love you.”

“And in Nice…Logan.”

“He just couldn’t,” Finn said softly, eyes down. Maybe everything wasn’t so simple. “He just couldn’t, I said—I…He just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let it all go for me. I thought I was going to die, it hurt so bad.”

He felt like he had slipped up at the end. Die, so bad. That felt far too harsh. Too much. But it was real.

“Finn…” Alex’s brow was wrinkled.

Finn shook his head. “It’s all good. All healed up.” He sniffed. “Tell me about you now.”

“No, c’mon. Get it out, bud. You’ll feel better.” Alex scooted their stools a little closer. “It’s just you and me.”

Finn rubbed at his eyes, maybe groaning a little even if he was embarrassed about it. The lump was still in his throat. “It’s all fine now.”

“Just tell me. If not for you, then for me.”

“For you?”

When Alex was silent for a moment, Finn peeked back out at him.

Alex wore a sad, conflicted expression. He spun his glass on the table once. “I’m your big brother. I’m suppose to protect you from stuff like this and instead I had no idea.”

“Al…”

Alex shrugged at him, eyes sad. “I need to know what happen. If you’re willing. I’d like to know what you went through, and—and I’ll tell you what I went through. When we couldn’t be there for each other.”

Salt air. Sweet espresso on Logan’s tongue in the sun soaked kisses he’d managed to receive. When Finn had cut his foot on the rocks, right across the arch. Logan had bandaged it for him, all soft hands. He still had the scar.

“I wanted him to tell me that he wanted me,” Finn said. “That he loved me. All the while, I didn’t even use the word love. You can’t expect things from people that you’re too scared to do yourself.”

Another rise from a far table, glasses clinking. It gave them both a second to think. To drink. To be by themselves, and together.

“Now tell me something,” Finn said.

Alex gave a nod.

“The wedding.”

Alex just tilted his head. “The wedding.” Finn took another drink and Alex nudged his foot beneath the bar. “Say what you’re thinking, man.”

“You gotta be a little hurt.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment. Finn hadn’t been able to help it when they’d gotten the news. He’d put himself in Alex’s shoes. He’d tried to imagine Logan and Leo settling into something so loving, so permanent, without him. It sent rocks into his stomach, even in the form of make-believe. He’d looked at Leo, who had had one of his performative smiles on his face. Finn knew that he and Logan were the only ones who could see the hesitant confusion in his face.

His parents had toasted to the marriage quite a few times across the meal. Alex had initiated a toast of his own. Finn had tried to read him, tried to see if there was hidden hurt in his eyes, too.

Now, Alex’s laugh was small, maybe a little annoyed. “Why do I have to be hurt?”

“Because—”

“I can choose not to be hurt.”

It was Finn’s turn to let out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s not how hurting works. Believe me. Been there, tried that.”

“I can understand, then,” Alex said. “I can be happy for them. I can be happy for the two people I love, Finn.”

“Okay,” Finn said quickly. “All right, God. I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying.”

Finn tensed all over, just like he always did when he thought Alex might be upset with him. A strange predicament, being a little brother who only wanted to please.

“It’s okay, Fish,” Alex said.

Finn glanced up at him. “I don’t get it.”

“Think of it like you and Logan. You two have years on your relationships with Leo. That’s Nat and Kasey, in a way. They’ve been living together, they’ve been a…partnership. Figuring out hard times, moving when Kasey had to move, growing together…they’re getting married.”

“Without you, though.”

“We just became what we are now. The three of us. It’s not a slight towards me, you can’t see it that way.”

“I do see it that way,” Finn said. “What, like they’re not sure about you?” Alex went to talk but Finn cut him off. “So Logan and I are us, so what? There’s nothing we’re more sure about than Leo. The second I get down on one knee in front of Logan, Leo’s gonna be standing right next to him.”

“So that’s you.” Alex let out a harsh breath. “Finn. C’mon. I’m happy.”

They sound of their own name made them both look away from each other. A commercial for the playoffs. O’Hara with the goal! It was Finn, slamming into Logan in celebration—footage from when they were still teammates. It ended with images of them opposite each other, photoshopped to pristine edges, both with a focused scowl on their faces. Logan was in his Rangers jersey, and there was a shining Stanley Cup was between them.

They were being painted as rivals now. Finn’s stomach turned.

“Jesus,” Alex said. “Never seen that before.”

“Me neither,” Finn said faintly. Logan had never once looked at him like that in his life. “How are we going to take something like this away from each other?” Finn said in a small voice. Maybe he was talking about Logan. Maybe he was talking about Alex.

Sitting here, looking at his brother, it felt impossible. He’d never once wanted to take anything from him, not really. Not toys, not girls. Never even had the thought of boys or anyone else. What Alex had, he just wanted something similar. Always.

“Never,” Alex said. “C’mere.” He put a hand on the back of Finn’s neck and pulled him in, Finn’s forehead against his shoulder. “C’mere, Fish.”

Finn’s laughed softly and he squeezed a hand around Alex’s back.

“I don’t care what happens on the ice,” Alex said. “No one’s taking anything from anyone. We’re just doing our job.”

“Honestly, it’s kind of hard to remember sometimes that this is our career.”

“Oh?” Alex pulled back. “Your sixty million slips your mind sometimes?”

“Fuck off,” Finn laughed as he took a sip. Then he leaned over and gave Alex’s shoulder a shove. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Alex laughed and rolled his eyes. “No. But…I know it’s not how you and yours would do it. But we’re good, me and mine. Honestly.”

Finn nodded. “Okay.” He turned on his stool to look out at the room. “All right, I got it.”

“I really…” Alex cleared his throat. “I really can’t say how fucking happy I get when I see you with them. And also just spending this much time with Logan now…the way he talks about you, man.”

Finn felt his neck heat. “He’s a pile of mush. That sometimes bites.”

Alex let out a loud laugh. “And you know, for such a sweetheart, Leo looks at you like he wants to eat you.”

“Maybe he does.”

“Oh Jesus, get out.” Alex shoved him.

“You started it!”

Alex just rolled his eyes and waved Liz down to pay the bill.

Sirius slowed the car to a stop outside of Hogwarts Stadium, causing a frantic chorus of his name and a surge of red and black jerseys being thrust forward, only barely contained by the gate guards.

“What are you doing?” Remus said, looking up from his phone from the passenger seat. “You usually just pull on through and wave.”

Sirius pulled a sharpie from the cupholder and rolled down the window. He pushed his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Might be one of their last chances to get a Sirius Black signature.”

He could feel Remus’ smile even as he hooked an elbow over his open window for the first jersey, then a poster, another jersey.

“You might want to pick up a pen, too, Loops,” Sirius said as a few of the fans ran around to the passenger side.

Sirius watched his hand sign countless Bs. His last name. He watched the double loops, the jut of the L. The long tail of the K. Finally, his number, which he hoped would never change. He wanted to be a Lion for life.

He waved and made sure Remus had handed a final jersey back before putting the car back into drive.

“How’d it feel?” Remus asked.

Sirius just smiled. “Felt all right.”

He smiled. He did. Real enough for Remus to scrunch his nose at him with one of his own, squeeze his hand across the gear shift and look forward.

He also thought of Regulus.

Finn cherished these car rides now, with the three of him. He liked the space, the way the air changed. He liked the way Logan looked relaxed, settled in knowing that they were all together. He liked the way Leo sang along to the music coming softly through the speakers. He liked them together.

“I got something to say,” Finn said.

Leo looked over at him, letting out a short snort of laughter. “All right, then.”

“You usually don’t announce what you have to say,” Logan said from the back.

“I know.” Finn reached a hand back blindly. Logan’s eyes met his in the rear view mirror and then Finn felt his fingers slip into his. He squeezed briefly, then let go and settled his fingers over Leo’s thigh. “I’ve been thinking about the wedding. Kasey’s.”

“Oh?” Leo said.

“Yeah. And I know…I know you’re both going to tell me I’m being stupid, but I gotta say this anyway. Okay?”

Leo looked back at Logan, confused. “Yeah. Sure, Harz.”

Finn took a slow breath.

“If I’m the one who gets down on one knee first,” Finn said, eyes ahead. “The second I put a ring on Lo’s finger, I’m putting one on yours, too, Le.”

“Oh,” Leo said softly, surprised. “Finn, I…It’s okay, I mean—”

“No.” Finn wasn’t going to let this moment go until Leo understood, until he was sure of it. “I need you to know that.”

“Me too,” Logan said. He had shifted into the middle of the back and was leaning forward through as best he could between their seats.

Finn wished he had said something earlier, before they left the house, because now he could only catch Leo’s expression in glimpses. He was blinking fast. He rolled his eyes at himself, but his face broke a little, lip wobbling. Before he could put a palm over his eyes, Finn caught his wrist and dragged it towards him for a kiss before pressing it over his heart.

“There is not a single version of our lives that doesn’t include you,” Finn said. “Preferably there are not even days.”

“No moments,” Logan said. “No seconds.”

Logan’s eyes met Finn’s again. We should tell him more.

“We were just saying the other day,” Finn began. “That—that we know how much history Lo and I have, but we love you so much. And when Alex—with the wedding, I just wanted to make sure that—”

“Oh, Harz.” Leo cut him off, his hand finding the back of Finn’s neck, tangling in his hair. “I know how much you love me.”

“I certainly hope so,” Finn said. “But…I never want you to worry.”

“I wouldn’t call it worry.” Leo thought for a moment. “I’m aware of your history and how much of it there is.” He turned to glance back at Logan. “I’m aware of all the memories you have, all the jokes, that I wasn’t there for. I’d be pretty stone cold if I hadn’t ever thought about it, but it’s not like we don’t have those, too. Memories. History.”

“Of course,” Logan said, and Leo’s hand slipped from Finn’s neck to squeeze Logan’s.

“I know I’m loved. I know it. Because if you didn’t really love me…how could you and Lo ever have looked at anyone else besides each other?”

Finn looked over at him, brows drawn together.

“I know I’m loved, Finn,” Leo said again. “You don’t have to work to show me. You show me ever day—even when you love Lo you show me.” Leo smiled. “You get a look in your eye when you hear Logan’s name,” Leo said.

“A look?” Finn asked, eyes on the road.

Leo nodded. “It’s soft. It’s light. It’s fierce, it’s longing…”

Logan’s green eyes in the mirror. Finn couldn’t see his whole face, but he could tell Logan was smiling.

“You get it when he walks in the room and when you give him his coffee in the morning,” Leo said. “When you wash the soap out of his hair or even bring him his favorite croissants. When you open him up on your fingers and when you sink inside of him and make him feel how much you want him.”

There was the muffled sound of Logan’s forehead hitting the back of Finn’s seat and it startled a laugh out of all three of them.

“Riling us up before the game, I see,” Finn said.

Leo just smiled. “I bet you looked at him like that at school, too. Across a desk, or a bar. From one dorm bed to another. From the driver’s seat to the passenger’s.”

Finn sucked in a short breath. “Leo—”

“I love that look more than almost anything…But there is one thing I might love more, or equally.”

“What’s that?”

“The look you get when you hear my name. Or when you offer to help me make dinner. When you mix me a cocktail. When you bring me a stack of books that you think I'll like in the bookstore and when you kiss my forehead. When you take me to a new restaurant, making a big deal about picking up the bill like it’s our first date or something.” Leo laughed, a purely happy sound. “When you lay me down and fuck me so…” Leo leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Finn’s shoulder, “damn good.”

Finn’s laugh was soft but delighted. “Le…”

“You think I don’t know how much you two love me? So, I thought you two might get married first for about point five seconds.” Leo shook his head. “Even Kasey knows us well enough to know that it would never happen like that. Not for us.”

“I didn’t come to you with this so you could reassure me, you know,” Finn said.

Leo just kissed his shoulder again. “I know.”

“Also,” Logan said from the back seat. “Who said you’re proposing first?”

Leo’s laugh was bright. “Ditto.”

Someone turned the broadcast on in the locker room, and Sirius taped his sticks with one eye on the red and black jerseys filing into the stadium. He tried to filter in some of the peace from New York City, walking the streets with Remus. He looked over at him, talking to Cole and Thomas.

And Lupin is certainly impressing, the television said, drawing Sirius’ eyes back up. He ripped the tape roll off with his teeth just as one of Remus’ goals flashed up on the screen.

“Hey,” Evgeni called, slapping the bottom of the mounted TV. “Lupin on TV, big movie star.”

Sirius listened to Remus’ answering laugh and watched Remus’ headshot appear between the commentator desk, all soft eyes and light, summer hair.

Lupin.

Sirius Lupin.

Sirius thought of Regulus.

The families came in for the lines to be called. Remus’ parents. Julian. Leo’s parents, Logan’s too, and his sisters. Finn’s mom—his dad with Alex in the visitor’s room. Thomas’ family, Cole’s mom.

And his baby brother. Not so little anymore. Tall, lanky, loosing some of the piled on muscle of hockey and settling into just himself. Dark hair, light eyes, and BLACK between his shoulder blades. 12 on his sleeves.

Sirius felt far too tall in his skates as he stood to take his usual place by the door. The room was a mess of cheers and last minute superstitions. Energy shots, smelling salts, touching Moody’s leg. Sirius just kept his eyes on Regulus, who offered a rare, genuine smile.

“Win one more and you’re only one win away,” he said in French.

God, Sirius thought. He had hated having to speak English when he was little.

“Ouais,” Sirius said. “Big one.” He thought for a second. “I’m feeling okay though.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

Sirius nodded, switching his stick from one hand to the other, then back again. “You’ll come see me after the game?”

He wasn’t sure why he said that, and Regulus looked a little confused, too. Of course he would. He always did.

“Ouais…” He patted Sirius’ shoulder, gave him a light fist to his chest. “Good luck, Sirius-feeling-okay.”

Sirius felt a flash of guilt, suddenly, that he’d told Remus’ family before his own. And that was what Regulus was. His family. The purest part of it. No, the most wonderful. His brother. It didn’t matter if they had spent time apart. Mon étoile.

“What?” Regulus’ brow furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sirius opened his mouth. “I…”

“Cap!” Evgeni knocked their helmets together, forcing Regulus to step back as he walked down the tunnel. “We go!”

“Uh—yeah, Kuns.” Sirius held his fist out mostly on instinct as Olli passed, then Timmy, then Cole and Pascal. Pascal paused, giving him a funny look, then one to Regulus, before moving on.

“Really,” Regulus said, walking backwards slowly to where the other families were heading to their seats. “Good luck.”

Finn knew to expect little digs and annoyances. Based on this series, Gryffindor and New York’s rivalry would most likely skyrocket. Fans would fight and yell. Tickets to these games would double in price even in the regular season.

Maybe that was what Jack Archer was going for. He was good, but maybe he thought, if he wanted to stick with the big boys, he had to be something to the entertainment of it all, too. Something for the commercials that made them all sound like gladiators. Finn didn’t understand it and, by the looks of everything, the Rangers didn’t, either.

“He’s always dug himself into holes,” Leo said from beside him, buckling up his padding. He paused, long fingers fiddling with the ends of the ties. “I just…I really hope he goes soon. I’m sick of it.”

Finn had scoffed, then pressed a kiss to Leo’s temple. “You and me both, baby.”

He tapped helmets with Sirius on his way out to the rink, and took in a deep breath of cold, ice air as he skated fast through the red and yellow lasers and lights being projected down on them. He looked for Logan, across the center line. It wasn’t as strange now, he guessed, to be looking for 71 instead of 10, but he missed the old number all the same. Ten felt like Logan. Finn had traced that number onto his bare, warm back in morning light. It was a nickname, one that Logan returned with a rare lopsided smile. In love, Finn now knew that smile meant. Hey, seventeen.

“Hey, Tremblay,” he shouted, and he saw Logan smile to himself before looking over. “You’re a ten outta ten, bud.”

Logan just shook his head. “Ouais, merci.”

Percy skated up close to center ice and stopped hard, spraying Finn with snow. “Wow, you’re so clingy.”

Finn tried to get him with the blade of his stick, but Percy dodged out of reach, laughing. It died when he bumped right into Jack, who was waiting for his turn at the goal.

“Sorry, man,” Jack said and Percy waved him off.

“No worries,” he said plainly—and Percy was anything but brief with his words.

Finn gave one more nod to Logan. Love you, he mouthed, and Logan said it back in French.

As Finn turned back to his side of the ice, Cole skated in at his side.

“There’s this whole thing online that Archer and Tremz hate each other,” he said, and Finn glanced over at him, a little surprised. Cole was quickly going from shy to never not telling them about whatever gossip he had heard. Finn kind of liked it, watching his real personality come out. It was like it had been with Sirius. Logan, too, when they had first met. He liked making people feel comfortable.

“Is it true?” Cole asked.

“Doesn’t really matter,” Finn said.

“They think Archer’s like, your ex or something and Tremz doesn’t like him for it.”

“My ex?”

“Yeah.” Cole shrugged, then his eyes widened. “Is he Logan’s ex?”

“Dude,” Finn said, smiling but shaking his head. “He’s nobody.”

Cole looked unconvinced. “He’s been fucking after you, man.”

“Well, I pissed him off.”

“He’s a fucking call up.”

“Never said he wasn’t stupid.”

Cole switched to gliding backwards at his side. He tapped Finn’s leg with his stick. “You’re really not gonna tell me what’s up?”

“I’m really not,” Finn said. “But I love ya, rookie. You ask Layla out yet?”

Finn laughed when Cole groaned and skated away, slapping a puck hard over Kasey’s shoulder in net.

Finn pushed towards their bench, eye on the flash of lights calling people back to their seats for game start. Leo was already on his stool with his mask pushed up, blond hair sweaty. He had a water bottle in one hand and was fiddling with Logan’s necklace with the other.

“Kill it out there, Harz,” he said with a grin. “My cute little winger.”

Finn just grinned back and pulled himself over the boards.

“Hey Knut?”

Leo tilted his head at him.

“You’re number one in my heart.”

“Oh my God.” But it made Leo laugh.

Sirius thought they were going to win again. They were up four in the middle of the second period and flying high on the home crowd surrounding them. He felt the adrenaline of it all prodding at him, spiking his breathing. He felt five steps ahead, luxuriating in what he’d always been good at. Panarin thought he was going to pass, Sirius was already at Trocheck’s side. Kreider at the net, Sirius put Thomas there, too. And if Alex O’Hara thought he didn’t share any similarities with his brother, then why did Sirius know every move he made?

The satisfaction burned bright in him. It always had. He squeezed a water bottle over his neck and tried to catch his breath.

“That was gatorade, but okay.”

Sirius looked at the water bottle, then at Remus, who was laughing at him. He took his own bottle and squeezed it over Sirius’ back.

“There you go, baby.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said, and took a drink of the sweet-salty red. “Take a double the next one? Power play.”

Remus nodded. His cheeks were flushed bright. He’d put a pretty one right between Saint’s pad and blocker. “Sounds good.”

The real problem for New York, Sirius thought, were the Rangers’ penalty minutes. It was unusual. Sirius knew it, and so did anyone who knew anything about hockey. But the blueshirts had been in and out of the box all game.

“We play keep away,” Sirius said as he and Remus jumped the boards with James. “Wait for them to get tired and let them put their second unit out, let the PP clock wind down and then we score right as Archer gets out of the box, all right?”

James snorted. “Playing with your food much?”

Remus laughed too. “I’d say so.”

Sirius just shook his head and leaned down for the face-off against Alex.

“Wow, Sirius Black, I’m such a huge fan,” Alex said.

“You O’Hara’s are all alike,” James said from Sirius’ shoulder. “Got big fucking mouths on ya.”

“That’s always been a compliment in my book.”

“Do you boys wanna talk all day or…” The ref raised an eyebrow, then only spared another second before dropping the puck.

Sirius hooked it behind him and back to Remus. There was a shock of action. Sirius felt someone slam into him from behind, but he spun and kept his footing. Remus had the puck, passed it back to Sirius, who drew it back around Kasey’s net.

When he tried for another pass to Remus, Alex intercepted it. In one motion he sent it flying low towards Kasey—but James was too quick for him. Even as the crowd rose in a protesting shout, James was there, putting his body in the way. He drew in on himself protectively, but it was too quick. The puck bounced right off the outer shell of his skate, right over his ankle.

James grimaced, and Sirius only had a second to see him stumble. He didn’t fall, though, merely began to make his way towards the bench as fast as he could. He hardly put any weight on his foot at all. Finn was already straddling the boards, ready, and the second James reached him, he was throwing himself over.

The original plan was off kilter now, but the clock was still running down. Remus had the puck now and, only slightly in a panic, he sent it towards Finn, who held it on his stick like a magnet.

Logan appeared in Sirius’ peripheral vision and Sirius took two sharp strides and covered him close as he pushed up the ice. He felt Logan try and elbow him, get to Finn, but Finn was already gathering speed.

And Sirius had had a plan. That was what he was best at. One foot in front of the other, seeing all the angles. Ice vision. Game intellect.

He should have seen it coming.

But he was so busy watching Finn, busy getting himself into position, that he hardly even noticed the power play clock run out. He hardly even noticed the penalty box opening and Archer darting out. He should have seen it.

Later, thinking back on it, he would realize that Remus had. He’d shouted, and not for the puck. His voice had been sharp and frantic, but everything was too fast.

It was never like they showed it in the movies.

Not the ones no one saw coming. Not the bad ones.

The bad hits happened between one blink and the next, the dark space in between. One moment, Finn was racing away from them, eyes on Saint, and the next all that filled the stadium was the weight of a body hitting the boards.

Cold ocean and warm skin. This good of a kiss shouldn’t hurt so bad.

The jingle of a dog’s collar, back door slamming. Did you go to the store already? No. Got ice? Nope.

I could have picked you up from the airport, you know. Blue eyes, dimpled smile.

We’re going s-w-i-m-m-m-m-m-i-n-g!

I’m fine, it just surprised me.

Confusion. Memory.

Green grass. Maroon. Warm between his shoulders, sweet soda, too sweet. Are you drunk?

You cook, I clean, Knut. House rules. You don’t have to thank me.

Dark ink.

The sheets so warm from his body that he shivered. Goodgoodgood.

Foggy. Tired.

From New York City, the New York Rangers select Alexander O’Hara—colorful confetti.

It’s cold.

Were you waiting for me? Yeah, you hungry?

I know. When you got your concussion, I saw. I saw you two—

Are you going to kiss me? Can I? Yes.

It’s cold.

Hannah, please. Say anything—say anything you want about me. To anyone. Say anything you want.

Agitation. Sad.

But not him. Please—leave him out of it. Just leave him out of it.

I’m gonna fall in love with you.

Al, what if I…

Yeah?

Never mind.

Heart soaring from laughter, blond hair catching the light on the couch, I can’t look away, I need to. I don’t ever want to look away. Dimpled smile, gray streak. Oh God, I’m allowed to love you.

It’s cold. I know, come here, bud. Come here. Finn—

“Finn?”

A familiar hush closed over him, and the world went quiet.

He was back in the car.

Logan’s green eyes in the mirror. Leo’s palm on his neck.

He was in bed—or at least he thought it was a bed. A floating feeling, soft, unstable too until something pressed into his side. Logan. A head on his shoulder. Twin bed, his feet nearly reaching the end. He could smell their old room. Deodorant, the humidity from the open bathroom door. Someone just showered. Logan, after a roadtrip. Logan, against his side, head on his shoulder. Since when does he let himself do that? Logan—have to wake up, Harzy. The medicine will help.

Now that Logan mentioned it, his head throbbed. Something else, too. Shoulder? The room was dark, the bed was cold, but there was a bright light coming from somewhere, getting bigger. Have to wake up, Harz. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—

“Finn.”

Finn, somehow, found his voice. “Al?”

“Right here, bud.” At Alex’s voice, Finn covered his eyes. “Hey, hey, tell us what’s wrong.”

“It was an accident,” someone else was saying. “No. No, it was, it was, I’m so sorry, I had my head down, it was—”

It was so bright. There was a strange sound around him that he only barely registered as a large crowd trying to be quiet.

Someone was blowing a whistle, hard, and it was too loud tooloudtooloud.

“Oh my God,” Finn heard himself say. He heard panic in his own voice.

“Finn.” Layla’s voice. “What hurts, man? Can you tell me how this feels?” Finn felt fingers press to either side of his neck. He realized he was on his side. He had thought he was on his back.

“Fine,” Finn said. “Actually I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Okay, okay,” Layla said gently.

“Did I say something?” Finn asked. “Did I…”

“Hey, hey, don’t roll on your stomach.” A second voice. Lars, Finn thought. “You feel sick? Your back, nice and easy, let us help.”

“Where?” Finn felt a sharp flash of embarrassment, but Layla didn’t miss a beat. Finn felt pressure at his shoulder. He thought cried out. He didn’t want to open his eyes. His head spun. He was so dizzy.

“Right here.” Cold against his back. Something soft around his neck, for him to rest on. Support, he realized. A brace.

“What…” he whispered.

“Just precaution,” Layla said. “We’re gonna get you off the ice now, all right?”

“Logan—” Finn said, and then had a flash of panic. The whistle. No, he can’t just call out for Logan. People will know. People will know and Logan won’t—

“Right here, Rouge.” He sounded far away. “We’re right here, baby.”

Right. Right.

“Finn?” Leo’s voice, pitched high with panic. He was far away, too.

What happened?

“I’m fine,” Finn heard himself say. “I’m fine, Le. Don’t worry, Le. I’m fine.”

“All right, everyone back.” Layla again. “O’Hara—or, Alex, I get it, but there’s the stretcher. Lars, help me get him on the board.”

“I’m so sorry,” a voice was saying. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop talking.” Leo sounded angry. Livid. Was he talking?

“I’m sorry,” Finn said, but he thought maybe he had whispered it.

Finn’s breath left him, stomach swooping as he was picked up using something hard and flat beneath him. Then it was like being on a train that was moving too slow to really feel anything. Wheels moving, but he wasn’t sure what direction he was going, head or feet first. There was polite clapping, still hushed in the worst way.

“Wait,” Finn said, and managed to open his eyes. It hurt, the lights felt sharp. “What happened?”

“Let’s just get you off the ice, Harz,” Layla said. He could see her silhouette against the blinding stadium lights, the reflections off the ice. A cool shadow blocked them for a moment, and maybe Finn couldn’t see perfectly, but he would know that shape anywhere.

“I love you, Fish,” Alex said.

Finn barely had to lift three of his fingers before Alex was squeezing them in his own.

In the away locker room, dressed in red and blue, it was teammate against teammate. A helmet, thrown. Visor, cracked against the wall. Green eyes dark as the sea, a fist tight around a neck of a jersey, other hands trying to pry them apart.

In the home locker room, dressed in black and gold, it was quiet. So quiet. The goaltender was throwing his equipment off of his body and running. And then he was standing in the hallway, shouting like none of his teammates had heard him before. The others kept still, as if that could help somehow. Cold towels around necks.

When Finn opened his eyes again, it was to a dark room. No sounds. So silent he felt underground.

He had been here before.

Quiet Room. Concussion.

“Hello?” Finn said aloud. His head hurt, sure, but the pain positively radiated from somewhere near his shoulder. Realizing it made him gasp. He drew his hand up, but he was afraid to touch.

The door clicked open, a blinding strip of light that made him close his eyes, and then it was gone.

“Finn?” Layla said. “I just went to get you some water. You with me, man?”

“I need to see…” Finn swallowed, realizing how dry his throat was.

“No visitors right now, Harz, all right? Soon.”

“Soon?”

Layla pushed gently at his good shoulder, trying to get him to sit back. “You should just rest, Finn. Your shoulder hurt?”

“Like hell.”

“Yeah.” He could just make out Layla’s sympathetic look. “Rest.”

“Did you tell Logan soon?”

She was putting a straw in a cup. “Yeah, we did, don’t worry—”

“No.” She paused. “No?”

“No, you don’t understand—If Logan’s not let in he’s gonna break down the fucking—”

There was a muffled thump as the door was forced open and a flushed, panting Logan, still in full gear and skates, pushed through Lars and the doorway.

“Rouge,” he whispered. “Rouge.” He yanked himself around at the sight of Finn covering his eyes and pushed the door shut again—somehow quiet as a mouse. “Finn—”

“I’m fine,” Finn said, pushing up on an elbow—and regretting it. He bit down the gasp of pain. “Hey, Lo, look, I’m okay—”

“Lay down, Finn,” Layla said forcefully.

Logan looked at Layla. “Tell me.”

Finn closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Logan’s face react to what he already knew.

“He has a minor concussion. Minor, I said, but that doesn’t mean you can treat it as nothing. This isn’t your first time around.”

Logan shook his head. “He was—he was so out. For…for maybe twenty seconds.”

Layla nodded. “It was thirteen. But I know. I know he was. Your body gets shocked. Your systems protects themselves. He fractured one of his collarbones, it could have been the pain, too—”

“I’m going to kill Jack,” Logan said. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

So that’s what had done it.

Finn sighed, settling back down and reaching a hand out instead. “He’s your teammate, Lo—”

“You're my teammate.”

It brought a different type of silence to the room. Finn ached in all the places he hadn’t before. Logan set his jaw and walked forward, clutching Finn’s hand between both of his own.

“You’re my teammate,” he said again, breathing hard. He was dripping with sweat, like he had just left the ice. “It doesn’t matter where I am. It’s you.”

“God,” Layla said quietly. “You two make me want to cry.”

Finn reached up with his good arm and put a hand against Logan’s cheek. “Where’s Leo?”

“Archer’s claiming it was an accident. Leo’s talking to him.” Logan hesitated. “Shouting. Shouting at him.”

“Who won? Who won the game?”

Logan frowned. “We did.”

Finn smiled, and then remembered that we didn’t mean the two of them anymore. “Oh.”

Logan leaned down and kissed Finn gently. “Rest.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Tremblay…” Layla said warningly. “You gotta go.”

“Rest,” Logan said once more. Another kiss. “We’ll take you home soon.”

Finn watched him go, glaring a little at Lars as he went a little sideways to fit through the doorway in his gear.

“He’s right,” Layla said. “Take it easy, and take these. The painkillers will start working soon and I needy to try and relax. We’ll run some tests and see what our next steps are.”

Finn allowed her to hand him the pills, to help him drink water.

“Wake me up when they come get me,” Finn said, because he was tired. “Please.”

“I will,” Layla said gently. She put a hand on his chest, rubbing softly. His pads had been taken off, which felt strange. He didn’t remember doing that. At least the neck brace was gone, even if it was replaced by a sling. “It’s all right.”

“It’s my third,” Finn said, though the words probably sounded jumbled. He was already fading.

“I know.” Layla’s voice sounded distant. “I know. But we’re going to take care of you. Everyone’s going to take care of you.”

Finn fell asleep with those words somewhere close by.

“Sorry it didn’t go your way.”

Sirius looked up from where he had his nose pressed against Remus’ shoulder. Regulus was standing in the doorway with worried eyes.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. He felt Remus rub his back once before turning to look at Regulus, too. “Honestly, I…I just hope Harzy’s okay.”

“I’m going to go see if I can do anything,” Remus said. “I don’t know, run to the store for them or something.”

Sirius nodded. That was probably true, but he also knew that Remus was finding an excuse to leave the two of them alone.

“Text me when you’re headed home, all right? I’ll find you.” Remus leaned up for a kiss and Sirius couldn’t help the way he cradled the back of Remus’ neck, the soft curls there.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Finn with the puck on his tape, and Jack Archer coming out of no where. The slam of the boards. Logan getting Jack by the jersey, just for a moment, before he was being held away from Finn by Layla’s outstretched hand. Leo, motionless in the goal and then skating hard over to them. Alex dropping next to his brother, cupping his palms beneath his head to keep it off the ice.

“You know,” Regulus began slowly after Remus disappeared around the corner. “There was a time when we would have just cared about winning the game.”

“Momentum builds from loss of any kind,” Sirius said, repeating their father’s words.

Regulus looked down and recited the rest of the phrase. “Better a teammate than you.” He rubbed at his eyes. “God. Maman. Papa. What the hell.” He came to lean against the counter beside Sirius. “That’s all I think sometimes, you know? Just…what the hell.”

Sirius looked down. “Yeah. I know.”

“How is James?”

“He’s okay,” Sirius said. “It just stung. You know how it gets all numb and needly for a second.”

Regulus nodded. “Mhm. Well, that’s good.”

Sirius nodded. He felt the superstitious itch he got before games, as if somehow re-doing all of of his routines would somehow help Finn just be a few seconds of needly shock, too. He knew it wouldn’t.

“I got into that summer program,” Regulus said suddenly.

Sirius looked up at him. “The one in Quebec? The design one?”

Regulus smiled a half smile. “Ouais.”

Sirius hadn’t know how to feel when Regulus first told him he was applying for something so close to home. Or, rather, what had once been home.

“But…” Sirius began.

“I’m not scared of them.” Regulus’ voice came out fierce. Almost harsh. “I can’t go through my life being scared of them. I’ve had enough of that.”

“But if they find out you’re there—”

“What?” Regulus widened his eyes, shaking his head. “They can find me any day. On campus. With you. They can find you any day, but they don’t.”

Sirius swallowed. “Yeah. I…yeah.”

“They only feel big because we used to be small.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “We’re not anymore.”

Sirius let a wave of pride wash over him. Even he sometimes couldn’t make that sentence work in his head. Thinking about his parents, even with all the ways he’d overcome them, still made him feel small sometimes. Thinking about all the moments he could have put an end to it, and didn’t, simply because he thought he might, one day, please them and it would end on its own. He looked at his brother. If they weren’t proud of him right now, Sirius didn’t think they knew how to feel such an emotion at all. Sirius was brimming with it.

“You would get so tired in drills sometimes,” Sirius said, not really knowing why. “I remember pushing you along, trying to get you to keep up your speed so you’d make it to the boards before the whistle. When you were little, I mean.”

“I remember.”

“You thought I was just being hard on you.”

Regulus closed his eyes. “At the time, yeah. I did.”

“It was easier to let you think that.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” Regulus said. “That whole time, we could have been in it together.”

Sirius closed his eyes, too. “Ouais. I know.” And then, because he couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I’m taking Remus’ last name.”

When he opened his eyes again, Regulus was already looking at him. He looked, and looked, and looked. Steel. Thunder clouds. A still, peaceful lake in the early morning. Sirius didn’t look away. He didn’t want to miss it if there was something he needed to know in those eyes.

But he couldn’t have predicted what Regulus said next. He turned to face him and uncrossed his arms.

“You wanna know how many people I’ve met who know who you are?” Regulus asked.

Sirius blinked. “What?”

“No, really. Guess.”

Sirius glanced around the lounge, confused. “I…”

“Guess, Sirius.”

Sirius thought of the train car with Remus in New York. Blissful anonymity.

“That’s what I’m telling you,” he said. “I don’t want to just be the name you can’t get rid of. I don’t want any of it to be a name you can’t get rid of—”

Regulus let out a disbelieving laugh. “What, so you’re dropping it? Taking Remus’?”

Some words, surely, tried to come out.

“Are you gonna drop me too? I’m too much of a reminder for you?”

“No. Non. Merde, Regulus, Of course not, no—”

“Then keep it,” Regulus shouted, then pressed his lips together like he wished he could take it back. He crossed his arms again and turned away.

There it was, what Sirius had been looking for. Only it hadn’t been quiet. Their house in Quebec had been so, so quiet. Regulus was finally saying these things out loud.

“I…” The least Sirius could do was try to meet him there. “I don’t know what to do, Reg. It all reminds me of…”

“People don’t fix us,” Regulus said. “They love us and they care for us. But they don’t replace things that have happened to us. You’re a Black. So am I. Do what you want.”

Slowly, Sirius reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. When he did, Regulus didn’t flinch. Sirius swore he even pressed back into his palm a little.

“One,” Regulus said without turning around.

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off of his own hand. He cupped the back of Regulus’ softly. No flinch. “What?”

“I’ve met one person who recognized me. One person who knows who you are. One person who gives a shit.”

Finally, Regulus turned around, looking up at him. Sirius’ hand fell to his side again. Regulus’ gray eyes, mirrors to Sirius’ own, were pleading. “Hockey isn’t that big, Sirius. I want you to go to a restaurant, a random restaurant, in a city other than this one, and I’d bet my entire bank account that not a single person gives a shit about your name. Like, sorry, if that hurts your ego, but—”

To Sirius’ own surprise, he laughed. “My ego?”

Regulus did the same, groaning a little as he did and rubbing at his forehead. “I can’t even say that because you don’t even fucking have one.”

“Wow,” Sirius said.

“Probably the only person in your field who can claim that as true.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me—”

“I don’t blame you,” Regulus cut in, and it went straight to somewhere near Sirius’ heart. “For any of it.”

“I do,” Sirius said. It felt as honest as he could get just then.

“Don’t,” Regulus said. “And…I mean it, do whatever you want with your name. I’m sorry I…” He made a you know gesture with his hand. “And I didn’t mind you pushing me. Not when it was you.” Regulus looked down, fiddling with his fingers in the way he used to. In the way he had since he was five. In the way their father used to slap his wrists for. The way Sirius used to still by cupping gentle hands over his. “It actually…When it was you, it actually used to make me feel kind of special.”

Special.

“Special,” Sirius repeated faintly.

Regulus didn’t say more, just sent a fleeting smile up at him. He let out a long breath, cracked a few of his knuckles, and shrugged. “Sorry about the game.”

“I…I don’t care about the game.”

Regulus actually looked pleased for a moment. Special. Then, it turned skeptical.

Sirius darted his eyes away, a smile of his own coming out. “I…Well, I…”

“You do care.” Regulus laughed. “But that was nice.”

Sirius laughed. “I just meant…”

“I know what you meant,” Regulus said. He touched his hand to the back of his own neck briefly, then nodded towards the door. “See you at home.”

Sirius could only nod and let the lump in his throat linger.

“Hi,” Remus said when Sirius found him, freshly showered and dressed in his suit again. He put a hand to Sirius’ cheek and kissed him. “You okay?”

“I’m gonna keep my name,” Sirius said. He looked between Remus’ eyes, watching his expression carefully.

In doing that, he got to see the smile bloom slow over Remus’ face. He pressed both hands to Sirius’ cheeks and kissed him again.

“I love you,” Remus whispered. “Sirius Black.”

#vaincre lumosinlove #o'knutzy #o'darwin #finn o'hara #sirius black #remus lupin #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #hockey au #finnlo #finnlo harvard era #lelo #sunfish #lionfish #wolfstar #wolfstar au #sweater weather lumosinlove

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sometimeswritingsometimesdying · 26 days ago

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i've had a vision of aiden and black magic by little mix and now i'm knee deep in a modern magic au where aiden sells cheesy love potions by being hot (it's a scam)

#nart #aiden kane #fence comic #digital art #i banged this out in like two hours bc THE VISION WAS THAT STRONG #anyways so i imagine this au to take place in a world were magic exists but its very chill #i just want aiden to be a hot merchant idk #he lives with harvard ofc who instead works for like a law firm or something actually important to the world #and then they kiss #aiden has a sort of aura magic where he can see what people are feeling mayhaps?#and harvard has close foresight so he can always see if someone is about to get injured or similarly (so hes always worrying/reassuring)#somewhat inspired by sacrificial by pavlovee but too shy to tag them and also its basically not even related #but go read that fic its so good!!#also i think seiji would fit in and he would do very cool storm related magic????#and to ME nicholas has like flickering magic that hes trying to work out what it is #and maybe its connected to his belief in his abilities? stupid comparison but like the rise of the guardians movie #and robert coste is like one of the most important and powerful mages thats now retired or something to that effect #eugene also can make things levitate in my mind #which means he can just lift his siblings in the air if theyre getting into trouble #ok im gonna shut up im going insane #also glass is HARD to draw so forgive me for that thing #fence fanart

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iffeelscouldkill · 1 month ago

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Lost in a Familiar Place pt. 5

(Aka the ‘Nicholas never applied to Kings Row’ AU)

A/N: I'm kind of on a roll with this fic??? Idek how, but I've already written the next chapter. There'll be at least 2 more instalments after this, and possibly a small epilogue depending on how the last chapter plays out.

Anyway - when I originally wrote the concept for this fic, there were two things I imagined playing out differently: Nicholas would take a different path to Kings Row, and Aiden would have a wake-up call when it came to his participation in the team. We've spent a few chapters on the first one - now it's time for the second.

(But don't worry, we'll be coming back to Nicholas!)

Or: in which Harvard and Aiden have A Conversation, and Nicholas and Seiji are misinterpreted. (Or are they?)

Previous chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

---

After fencing practice officially ended, the students hung around chattering in groups, dissecting the unexpected match that had taken place between Seiji Katayama and a complete fencing nobody.

Harvard was impressed that Nicholas had scored a point on Seiji at all. The holes in his technique were huge and evident, but there were times when he could strike at an opening before you even knew what was happening. Harvard had noticed Seiji watching him during drills; he knew that his teammate was turning the contradiction over in his mind, trying to make sense of it.

And Nicholas had beaten Aiden. That couldn’t just be put down to left-handedness and the element of surprise.

Harvard sought Aiden out in the middle of the throng of students. He was talking to two of the boys that Harvard thought of (a little uncharitably) as Aiden’s groupies; they grudgingly made way for Harvard, shooting him looks. “Hey. Good practice today.”

Aiden arched an eyebrow. He seemed back to his old self, more or less. “You don’t need to coddle me, Captain. I lost to a total rookie.”

Harvard shrugged. He could say, ‘Maybe you should come to practice more often, then,’ but this wasn’t how and where he wanted to have that conversation. “Do you want me to make you feel better about it?”

Aiden snorted and put his hands behind his head. The groupies drifted away, losing interest when Aiden’s attention wasn’t on them. “No, a night of drowning my sorrows in the nearest warm body and I’ll be back on form.”

Harvard normally shrugged off Aiden’s jokes about sleeping around, but this time it didn’t land quite right. Aiden noticed his expression and smiled wryly. “Ah, too soon.”

“Aiden-” Harvard began, but just then, Coach Williams called them both over. She threw Aiden a set of keys and handed Harvard a stack of orange field markers. Some poor sap had been made to run suicides that morning after he forgot his mask.

“Do me a favour, and run these back to the supply cupboard,” she instructed. “And this-” She handed Aiden the épée that Nicholas had borrowed for practice. “And if you see Nicholas, make sure he doesn’t accidentally walk off with those fencing whites he borrowed.”

That was a good point. Where was Nicholas? Harvard couldn’t remember seeing Seiji leave, either.

An awkward silence hung between them as they set off along the corridor. Harvard was suddenly sick of this. “Aiden, listen,” he said. “I’m not about to get on your case about sleeping around. It’s your choice, even if I wish you’d be less… harsh about it most of the time.”

Aiden acknowledged this with a wry twist of his lips. “But?” he prompted Harvard.

Harvard stopped in the corridor and turned to face Aiden. “But I need you to commit to one thing, at least, and that’s the team. You know as well as I do that one exceptional fencer doesn’t make a winning team, and we need everyone to be on form if we’re going to have a shot this year. I can’t just keep subbing in Eugene every time you don’t feel like showing. He’s a solid fencer, but you made the team, and you need to show up for it.”

Aiden put his free hand on his hip. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?” he asked Harvard, almost taunting. Harvard wasn’t often on the receiving end of his best friend’s cutting tongue, and he didn’t enjoy it. “Cut me from the team?”

Harvard swallowed, but he couldn’t say this if he wasn’t prepared to back it up. “Yes, if I have to.”

“Then you’ll be a fencer down.”

“I’m a fencer down anyway, Aiden!” Harvard exclaimed, gesticulating and forgetting that he was holding a set of field markers. “I never know if I can count on you or not! What’s the point of making the team if you don’t act like you’re a part of it? Why do you bother to try out if you’re just going to make a show of being too good for us?”

Aiden’s cheeks flushed, and Harvard wished he could walk back his outburst, but part of him felt lighter for getting it out into the open. It was everything he should have said last year, and hadn’t. They’d treated it as a bit of a joke, laughing about being the worst team, and Aiden had shown up for some matches, for the bake sale – even if he’d been on his phone the whole time.

But this year felt different. Harvard wanted to take things seriously, and it felt jarring how little Aiden did.

“You’d really do that to me?” Aiden asked him, his voice taut like steel wire. “Cut me out because I’m no good to you any more?”

Harvard exhaled. This was treading dangerously close to Aiden’s many complicated issues stemming from his family, something that Aiden would never, ever so much as hint at in front of anyone who wasn’t Harvard. But Aiden also wasn’t being fair.

“I’ve defended your spot on the team for a long time,” he said. “Because I know what you can do, and I’ve always believed you come through for us when it matters. But – it goes both ways, Aiden. How can I treat you like a member of the team when you don’t act like one?”

He kept his voice low, trying to stay calm and reasonable. “At this point, I can’t help wondering why you try out for the team in the first place. What are you doing this for, Aiden? Who is it for?”

Aiden gave Harvard a long, steady look, long enough that Harvard wondered if he was meant to be reading something into it. What was he missing?

“You remember when we both made the team for the first time, back in sophomore year?” Aiden said suddenly.

“Of course,” Harvard replied, a little surprised at the direction this was going. “The captain was Elias Ortiz, and he was so inspiring. I really looked up to him. I wanted to do what he did.”

Aiden nodded. “You wanted to be team captain one day,” he said, fondness in his voice. “And you persuaded me to try out with you.”

Harvard had forgotten that part. “You practiced with me all the time,” he said. “There was no reason you couldn’t make the cut too – and you did. You made the cut ahead of me, even.” Aiden had handily won enough matches to be accepted as one of the fencing team’s ‘main three’, while Harvard had endured the heart-in-mouth wait to find out who had been selected as reserve. Aiden had threatened – promised? – to give up his spot on the team if Harvard wasn’t selected. Harvard had assumed he was joking.

“You were a shoo-in for reserve,” Aiden said, waving a hand. “There was no question about it.”

Harvard wasn’t sure about that, but Aiden was biased on his behalf. “Still – where are you going with this?”

Aiden sighed, looking away and resting the point of the épée he was carrying against the ground. “Before we started practicing together, fencing was just this dumb thing that my dad made me do,” he said. “I would have quit years ago if not for that. But you loved it, and that made it not suck for the first time in ages.

“I tried out for the team because I knew how much it meant to you for us to both make the cut. And I like being good at things.” He shrugged and smirked diffidently, but Harvard could see more vulnerability in Aiden’s eyes than he’d shown in a long while.

“I like to win, but being in the fencing team together is our thing. That’s why I’m on the team.”

Harvard’s heart lurched. He would never in a million years have expected himself to be the reason that Aiden tried out for the team. Winning, sure – showing off, even – and schooling upstart fencing newcomers who thought they were hot stuff. But doing it all for him?

“But… why don’t you try properly, then?” he asked, because that part still didn’t make sense. If being on the team was important, then why act like it wasn’t?

Aiden’s eyes flicked over Harvard’s face and he smiled. It was a sad smile. “It doesn’t do to go getting too attached,” he said, barely loud enough for Harvard to hear him.

Then he turned and strode away down the corridor, calling back, “Coach is going to wonder where the hell we’ve got to.”

Harvard was left blinking at nothing, wondering what Aiden could possibly mean by – “Aiden? Hold on, what do you-”

He jogged to catch up with his best friend, but Aiden was already opening the door to the supply cupboard – throwing light onto two figures inside.

Nicholas and Seiji were standing nose-to-nose, Nicholas gripping the neck of Seiji’s uniform. Both boys looked flushed. Well, that explained where they’d both disappeared to, at least.

“Oh. Are we interrupting something?” Aiden asked, and Nicholas instantly let go of Seiji.

“No.” “No.” Both boys spoke in unison, Seiji turning away from Nicholas as if to reinforce his denial. Harvard raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, no judgement,” he said, and Aiden snorted as he walked past to put the épée away, then reached back for the field markers, which Harvard handed to him. “Just be aware that the supply cupboard does get some use around this time of day. In case you wanted to find another location.”

Nicholas turned even redder. “That’s not – it’s really not like that,” he said, rushed.

Harvard shrugged. “Like I said, no judgement. Oh, and Coach said to make sure you don’t forget to return your fencing whites.”

Nicholas looked down, apparently realising that he was still in his borrowed uniform. “Oh, yeah.”

Seiji nodded formally to Aiden and to Harvard. “Captain,” he said, and then strode out of the cupboard. Nicholas scrambled after him.

“Seiji!” he called after the other boy. “I meant what I said.”

Seiji paused, then looked back and gave Nicholas a nod before disappearing in the direction of the changing rooms.

Riiight. Harvard turned to Nicholas. “If you need someone to walk you out after you get changed, I can show you the way back into town.”

At that moment, Bobby and Eugene emerged from the door leading off to changing rooms, Bobby beaming as he caught sight of Nicholas. “Nicholas! We were looking for you!” he enthused. “Do you want to come and get smoothies with us?”

“Uh, sure,” Nicholas said, seeming surprised, but pleased.

“Oh – Harvard! And Aiden! Would you like to come too?” Bobby asked, as he spotted them both.

Harvard glanced at Aiden, then smiled at Bobby and shook his head. “Thanks, but we’re okay – you guys go ahead.”

“I just need to get changed and give these back to Coach–” Nicholas said, walking quickly towards the changing rooms. The three of them disappeared, and Harvard and Aiden were left alone again.

“Well,” Harvard said. “I guess that means Nicholas isn’t hung up on you, at least.” He was wearily accustomed to the pining looks thrown at Aiden in the corridors, the guys showing up at their dorm room door with flowers and heartfelt notes that Harvard always promised he’d pass onto Aiden (who was more often than not already out on another date). And, sometimes, the uglier responses – a graffitied locker, a malicious rumour, damage done to Aiden’s things while they were both out of the room. Aiden always forbade Harvard from going after anyone on his behalf, even if they could work out who’d done it. “It’s nothing, Harvard. I can handle it.”

Aiden snorted. “Nicholas stopped being hung up on me the second he laid eyes on Seiji Katayama.”

Harvard smiled as they both stepped out of the cupboard, Aiden pulling the doors closed and locking them. It was fun to gossip and trade theories about their fellow fencers, something they’d indulged in at many a practice match and regional or state competition (when Aiden was present, of course). But Harvard quickly remembered the conversation they’d been having before they happened on Nicholas and Seiji.

“Aiden?” he asked. “What did you mean when you said, ‘It doesn’t do to get too attached’?”

“Nothing,” Aiden said quickly, flashing Harvard a quick and (to Harvard’s expert eyes) insincere smile. “Forget I said that.” He tried to start back towards the fencing salle.

“No, come on-” Harvard objected, catching hold of Aiden’s arm – gently. “I know you meant something by it. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He frowned, suddenly worried about what Aiden might not want to say. “You can trust me.”

Aiden gave Harvard that rueful smile again. “I think it’ll be better if you figure it out yourself. But if you haven’t figured it out by tonight, then I’ll tell you,” he said, then slipped his arm out of Harvard’s grip and walked away.

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evrmoire · 4 months ago

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people should pay me $1000 before speaking on adam parrish and even then some of you won't be allowed

#adam cheating on ronan aus are so disgusting #you all read his “ferocious loyalty”#about adam not making any move before he was sure he reciprocates ronan's feelings #bc ronan is precious and he's not the one to play with #read about him going to harvard and still doing everything to be able to spend time with ronan whenever he can #and understood nothing #oh and people mentioning adam's bisexuality in such posts??#thanks for supporting a stereotype that we all are cheaters #adam parrish #pynch

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sugarcubesketches · 8 months ago

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Back at it again with the Pokémon AU. This time it's Harvard's and Aiden's teams.

#fence comic #Harvard Lee #Aiden Kane #pokemon au #art #digital art #Also finally got volume 6 #and I have feelings #working on a project for it

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elusivesaltrock · 2 months ago

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I think it might be the start of the nfl season infecting my brain, but i’m really feeling like i’d like to read an AU where they play football. I can see nick as a running back, harvard as a qb, and eugene as really any position. I think it would be fun, plus they get hurt a lot so there’s perfect opportunity for seiji to be worried about nick.

#fence comic #Fence au #nick cox #nicholas cox #eugene labao #harvard lee

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thestarminstrel · 1 year ago

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... two fence fanartists walk into a bar and come out with a cursed au (in other words, @yv-sketches and i got up to shenanigans)

#fence comic #fence fanart #harvard lee #aiden kane #haiden #god do i even want to make this a tag??#sure why not #twilight au

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itsaash · 1 year ago

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Hamptons Cubs continued....

We've got history together

The prompts from @noots-fic-fests have been invaluable in actually getting this AU written, with the character credit of course to @lumosinlove

Remember when personal chef Leo was invited by sweetheart Finn to bring his boyfriend up for the week to his house in the Hamptons? But then I left you on a cliffhanger on how Finn and Logan knew each other?? like 3 months ago?? Here's their backstory! (about 2000 words, rated T)

Read on ao3

Finn, for some unknowable reason, was taking History 1039: First Empires: Power and Propaganda in the Ancient World, and was actually looking forward to it each week. It was a smile in a crowd, a time slot highlighted deep green (which was the colour for good things, peaceful things), a moment to look forward to amid his absolutely manic final semester. And well, if he was being honest with himself, it was the time he saw Tremblay. Logan Tremblay. At a heavy wooden table, absolutely surrounded by reference books, he had learned Logan had played hockey as a kid, as Finn had too, and they’d traded hockey nicknames, seldom used now, and Tremzy had been a fixture in his colour-coded, highly precise day planner. Because if it wasn’t in the planner, it didn’t happen, and he needed those study sessions to happen.

Finn had known since freshman year that he needed another history class and had been putting it off, so here he was in his final semester, finally taking one. And the flutter in his heart whenever he sat down by Logan during the lectures made him appreciate his top notch procrastination skills.

The problem, one of the problems, is that history textbooks aren’t actually well written. Finn would find himself writing ‘we need to pick a theme here and stick to it’ in the margins. His book was marked up to the nines, comma splices fixed, bright orange highlighter over unnecessary details that only clog up the plot, and plenty of sky blue ballpoint pen notes of ‘where are we going with this?’.

But in this class he was expected to remember all those orange details? And had to write essays about the confusing dates and names and meandering themes? He should’ve picked a history class that covered a decade, tops. Any decade would do. This class was so broad it made his head spin. But, another class wouldn’t have had Tremzy in it, so.

So, their highly exclusive study group of two took up a permanent Wednesday evening slot of deep green in the planner. Logan could remember the dates and details and helped Finn with mnemonics so he could remember them too. They made up back-story and funny details to help Finn’s brain tie together a rambling plot. And Finn would read the textbook aloud to Logan on the days where he was too tired to read the English words and the scenes of ancient history would dance in the air between them as they helped each other learn.

The old fashioned study room had huge white candles in sconces around the room and the candles dripped their wax down the sides, within the glass containers. Finn stared at the patterns the wax made on the outside of the candle, tried to read them like tea leaves. Tried to remember dates and names and if that shade of green had always been the one associated with good things? The light from the candles sparkled off the glass holders and Finn knew that green would always mean good, now.

They were just weeks away from the end of the semester now, final essays in the final editing phase (the part Finn was actually good at. Logan may have learned quickly to send Finn his absolute earliest drafts, just to enjoy the sight of him opening his case of markers and highlighters with a flourish and smile). The sun was staying out later now, still shining as their evening study sessions went on into the night. They found themselves invited to a party at the hockey house after going to watch a Crimson game together. They had traded stories of their successes in junior hockey, and an injured player watching from the stands had joined their conversation and invited them to a party.

“Bruh, it’s gonna be summer vibes. We’re bringing on summer early. Wear florals or some shit. The chicks dig florals.”

Finn laughed, “I can probably manage that.”

“Make your outfit as colourful as your papers, Harzy,” Logan had teased. The player, Wags, upon hearing of Finn’s editing skills had desperately begged Finn to do just a quick edit of his last English paper. Finn agreed, laughing.

“Harzy, you’re a beaut! Fuckin comin through like a champ. Ok I gotta go join the boys for intermission pep talk but come by the house Saturday! Drinks all night for you two!” He pointed his crutch back at Finn and Logan as he walked away, “fuckin florals!”

Logan laughed and bumped Finn’s shoulder, “Yeah, Harzy, you beaut.”

Finn bumped Logan back. “Shut up. Roping me into editing in exchange for drinks. And you’re the one with flow,” he said, hitting the back of his hand into the bottom of Logan’s dark curls, which did flow just past his ears.

“Come on, as if your hair isn’t the nicest in any room,” Logan scoffed. He brushed his hand past Finn’s temple as if he was dismissing Finn’s thick red hair, but the touch lingered a bit longer than a dismissal would, and Finn drew his hand back as he felt the air thicken. Their eyes locked together for a long moment. Finn swallowed.

“I should head home,” Logan said, standing up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Essay to finish. Colour coded editing to decipher.”

Finn laughed, tried to make it sound natural and not high and tight.

“Yeah, ok. If we stay here any longer we’ll start calling each other bruh.”

“Yeah, put a red line right through that shit, Harz,” Logan laughed. And the air settled back to normal around them, for now.

But they did call each other bruh the rest of the week.

~~~

The party was fun. Wags came through with the drinks and introduced Finn in every room as “a total lifesaver, bruh.”

They’d danced, and played beer pong (Logan was unfairly coordinated, even amidst a house full of athletes), and debated music and majors with the other students.

But by midnight Finn and Logan were happy to leave the hockey players to their ever stranger games, and Finn walked with Logan back to his dorm. They collapsed into one of the couches in the sitting room off the main entry, it seemed no one was partying here tonight.

“Have fun, Tremzy?” Finn asked through a yawn. Logan tipped his head back against the couch and was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah, it was fun. Do you miss it? Hockey? And the built-in friends?” Finn also tilted his head back, and turned his head towards Logan. He waved a hand in the air. “Yes, and no. The sport itself, I loved, would totally play some more. And I made some awesome friends. But the locker room culture overall isn’t quite where I wish it was? It made it hard, in the end, and I just stopped having fun.”

“Ouias, même chose. And I just wanted to focus on other things.”

They sat for a long minute beside each other, heads resting back and looking at each other. Something switched in the air, like one of the sconce candles had been lit, all of a sudden, on. And Finn leaned over and was kissing Logan before he even knew he was going to.

Logan was still for just a moment before he threaded his hand into Finn’s hair and pulled him closer. Finn held Logan’s jaw in both his hands, unbearably gently, and they settled into each other, the press and movement of lips against lips, jaw, ear, neck.

“I’m not gay,” Logan murmured against his mouth, after some minutes, and Finn backed away slightly.

“That’s ok, that’s fine,” Finn said. He kept his hand cupping Logan’s jaw, never wanted to touch anything else after this sacred skin against his fingertips. “I think I’m bi, but lately there have been more guys in my mind, so who knows.” Not guys, the inner editor in his mind corrected. Guy. Singular. Be specific with your words. It’s green eyes and broad shoulders that have been building a home in your mind. But Finn couldn’t make his mouth say these truths, not with Logan’s eyes looking that stormy and wild and worried.

He leaned in again, 80% of the way, ok maybe 95%, but then waited to see if Logan wanted more. Finn melted and felt like he might float away when Tremz leaned in to press their lips together again. It was soft and tentative but Logan’s grip against his bicep with one hand and side with the other transferred plenty of desire and care. Finn thought he might keep his hand on Logan’s jaw until his hand cramped, it felt so good and right there, the slight stubble soft enough to feel like the best texture toy in existence.

Their lips pressed together like a dance. For a while soft and sweet, just Logan’s fingertips on Finn’s biceps and Finn’s fingers in their new home. Then it turned hotter, deeper. They gripped tighter and moved skating fingers across each other’s chests and hips.

Finn slung a leg over both of Logan’s, still sitting beside him, not on him, but now turned fully towards each other so they could press their chests together in a gasp.

“I thought you liked girls,” Logan said, very unfortunately using his mouth to talk instead of kiss. “You talked about Hannah a lot back at the start of the semester.”

“I do like Hannah. I like a lot of people,” Finn said into the hinge of Logan’s jaw. I like you, his brain amended.

“Have there been, you said you’ve been thinking of boys? Have there been guys in your bed too?” Logan said slowly, accent heavy around the words, the sentence stumbling as his fingers traced up and down Finn’s side. Finn’s heart galloped ahead before he could answer. He pulled back slightly, feeling that Logan really wanted an answer.

“Well, no, not lately. I mean, I have … well I’ve had a lot of people in my bed honestly. But lately, no, no guys in my bed for ... quite some time.” At least two months, Finn thought. A bit more? Which in retrospect was not the norm for him, but he honestly hadn’t noticed the lack these past weeks. “Why? Are there guys in your bed? You haven’t told me about anyone you’ve hooked up with.”

Logan just shook his head, fingers gripping into Finn’s hips, but he didn’t lean in again. “No, there hasn’t been, I mean I’ve done stuff with girls, but I haven’t, merde,” Logan looked up at the ceiling before levelling his gaze at Finn. “Finn, you’re the first guy I’ve kissed.” Finn raised his eyebrows. “I honestly don’t know what, don’t know who I like,” he stuttered.

Finn traced his fingertips over Logan’s cheeks. “Do you like this?” He trailed his fingers down Logan’s neck. Logan nodded. “And this?” Finn leaned in to place a soft kiss just below Logan’s ear.

“Absolutely.” Logan tilted his neck to give Finn more access.

“Ok, well then, Tremzy, do you want to keep kissing me? You don’t have to. It’s so fine if you want to stop.”

Logan just leaned in and captured Finn’s mouth again and Finn let himself be kissed within an inch of his life.

Some time later they slowed, and stopped. They peppered small kisses across each other’s faces for a long time before actually stopping. Finn walked Logan up to his room holding hands. They kissed one more time at Logan’s door. Finn felt like the house around them may as well not be there, like he may as well be floating with Logan, under the stars, for as much as he took notice of anything other than the soft lips, the scruff of hair, the hard muscles under his hands. It felt a little bit like magic.

In the scheme of things, their history together included dozens of evenings together with books strewn about the heavy wood table, a difficult course that had been successfully navigated by the help of each other, moments of care and kindness and friendship. But that was one class, a handful of months, one kiss. Years ago.

They had continued to study after that night, proof-reading each other's essays. There had been more casual touching, a hand on a knee or a stroke across a back as they walked by, but they hadn’t kissed again. Finn thought maybe they would at the end of the semester. But then the semester ended in a whirlwind of exams and papers and best wishes from so many people and Finn had been travelling into the city to find an apartment on the weekends and doing job interviews at magazines and publishing houses. They just … hadn’t. And then he’d dropped his whole fucking bag onto the tracks that day in New York and he’d decided to switch to an android phone, and the kiss, and Tremzy, were a fond but distant memory.

Except, now here he was. Right in-fucking-front of him. At his house. For the next 10 days. With Leo. Leo was his boyfriend.

What the actual fuck.

#fic-o-ween 2023 #o'knutzy #Hamptons AU #characters by lumosinlove #harvard FinnLo

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wannabe-fic-reader · 1 year ago

Text

Bruh. I absolutely cannot.

My heart ain’t ready for this at all.

Heavy Hearts Ch 10

Casey Novak x reader warnings: language, hangovers, puking, general unwellness all around lol, it's the beginning of the angst folks.

Casey woke up with a soft sigh, gently stretching out her body as she rolled over in her bed. The sun was just beginning to peak through her blinds, streaming into her room, fresh morning air wafting in through the open window. She could smell the slight dewiness in the air, having fallen asleep to rain the previous night and it made her ache to get outdoors. She pushed back the covers, hopping out of bed and rummaging through her closet until she found her preferred running gear for the day, changing into it before she jogged down the stairs and out the front door.

She loved early morning runs in the city, most days she didn’t even bother to bring music with her, she liked listening to the world around her wake up and start its day. The hustle and bustle hadn’t quite began, garbage trucks and delivery orders being driven through the streets before the morning commute truly began. She often encountered other people out on morning runs, a quick nod of acknowledgement as they passed each other, though her favourite part was the quick dog walks around the block before work, getting to stop to say hello and give as many of them pets as she could.

Runs like this were among the best ways that she could start her days, they put her in the best mood and she just knew that the rest of her day was going to be great.

By the time she got home she could hear her parents in the kitchen as she came through the front door. She paused to tug off the hoodie, tossing it onto a hook before she kicked off her shoes.

“Case?!” Her dad called out and she glanced in the direction of the kitchen.

“Yes to coffee and yes to breakfast please.” She called back and she heard him laugh.

“C’mere.”

“Coffee can wait I was just gonna jump in the shower.”

“Casey,” her mom’s voice flowed through the air next, a laugh in her words as well, “your father has a surprise for you, it’ll only take a minute.”

Casey’s forehead scrunched and curiosity got the best of her, wandering through the dining room and into the kitchen. Ben was sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper and steaming mug of coffee in front of him while Grace was at the stove.

“Nice run?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous out there today. What’s up?” She glanced around, trying to get a clue on what the surprise could be but there was nothing that seemed out of place.

“Before you went back to school you asked me to do something for you.”

“I did?” Her head titled in confusion, earning another laugh from Ben.

“I picked it up a couple of weeks ago, figured I should probably pass it along to you now.” He slid a small box across the kitchen table, one that she hadn’t even noticed and suddenly she was piecing it together.

“Oh my god dad! You didn’t!”

“You wanted me to help you with something and who am I to say no to my favourite daughter?” He teased and Casey rolled her eyes.

“I’m your only daughter.”

“Well, what do you think?” He asked, cracking the box open and she gasped.

“That’s a little bigger than I had planned.” The diamond was gorgeous. While it was the exact one she’d wanted, the one that she knew was perfect, it was certainly a larger carat than she’d suggested.

“You said you wanted to impress her, didn’t you?” Grace asked, crossing the room to put down a plate of food for Ben, pausing to kiss Casey on the temple, “and you two deserve something really nice after all the hard work you’ve put in at Harvard.”

“Yeah, but even with the extra hours over the summer I don’t think I’m gonna have enough to pay you guys back for this…” Casey practically pouted, now that she’d seen it, in person, in her own kitchen, her heart was dead set on this particular ring. Which is why it stung so much to have to turn it down, to go exchange it for the smaller size.

“Which is exactly why it’s a gift from your mother and I.” Ben shrugged, leaving the box on the table while he dug into his food.

“Are you serious?!” She replied with a near shriek and her parents laughed.

“Casey sweetheart, this is the happiest you’ve been in a long time.” Grace said, “the two of you are meant for each other, we can both see it. This is our gift to the both of you, some families hand down rings, this is how we decided to do it.”

“Thank you.” She somehow managed to loop both of them into the biggest bear hug, warmth blooming through her chest as excitement began to bubble in her stomach. This was actually going to happen; it was becoming a reality and now she was one step closer to it. “This is so incredible. I mean it.”

She kissed both of their cheeks before letting them go, plopping into a chair across from her dad as she picked up the small box, admiring the ring. Grace let out a little chuckle, moving back to the stove to grab her own plate, pausing to fill up a mug of coffee, placing it down in front of Casey before she sat down herself.

“So?” She asked, eyes gleaming at her daughter, “are you going to let us in on any of the plan?”

Casey ducked her gaze as she blushed, a huff of a laugh escaping her lips before she glanced back up with a hesitant expression on her face.

“You’re gonna think it’s so cheesy.”

“So what?” Ben laughed, “it’s not us you have to impress. We’re just here to support you and help you pull it off if you need it.”

“I was thinking during or after the fireworks at the end of summer party?” She shrugged, “I dunno, it sounds lame. But we both really loved that night last year, everything just felt, right… ya know?”

“I think it sounds perfect.” Grace squeezed at her hand, “you start brainstorming and you let us know if you need help setting anything up, alright?”

“I will.” Casey shot her a bright smile, closing the ring box and tucking it into her hand, “I’m gonna go hide this, shower and call y/n.”

“Did she say how the engagement party went?”

“Not much, just that it was pretty lame. She got pulled off by some old acquaintance. I’m sure she’s bored out of her skull out there.”

“Well we’ll get her out here as soon as we can.” Grace smiled again as Casey stood from the table.

“Yeah. Thank you guys, again.” She beamed as she smiled at them, unable to hold back the giggle as she bounded up the stairs to find somewhere in her room to stash the ring that you wouldn’t find it later that summer.

The first thing you registered was the cawing of a crow outside your window that was making your head absolutely throb. The second was the sandpaper feeling inside your mouth, you did your best to swallow and there was basically nothing to swallow. As your conscious started to wake up you could feel your bra digging into your ribs, your skin aching underneath it, actually, your entire body ached. You cracked open one eye, at least you recognized your surroundings as your bedroom, and your blinds were closed, the room still bathed in darkness. Though the entire thing was spinning, you felt like you were in a wave pool and with each breath you took the nausea was getting worse.

Incredibly slowly, you lifted you head from your pillow, finding remnants of your makeup smudged on it from passing out on your stomach. You let out a groan as you pushed yourself up, cautiously rotating so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. You couldn’t remember a time you’d been this sore upon waking up, every inch of every limb ached, you noticed one of your knees was scraped up, then you realized the slit in your dress was torn nearly all the way up to your waist. There was a forming mark that you couldn’t quite make out on your inner thigh, clearly you’d taken a tumble at some point last night, you could only pray it wasn’t in front of people at the country club. You swallowed again, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth and then it hit you, the faint taste of cigarettes in your mouth and you did your best not to gag. You ran a hand over your face, letting your head rest in your palm for a moment before you let out another groan, a spasm of hurt running through your body.

The ensuite bathroom was five feet from you, and at the very least you needed to pee, get rid of your bra, you could try to deal with the rest later. Once you were finished and up washing your hands you realized if you were going to show yourself downstairs to get water, medicine, anything, you needed to not look anything like you did right now. Your mother would never let you hear the end of it.

You didn’t want to risk brushing your teeth and activating your gag reflex, opting for some mouth wash instead to get rid of the horrid taste in your mouth, bracing yourself on the basin for a moment to regain some strength. You unzipped your dress, letting it drop to the floor, followed shortly by your bra. Somehow in your drunken stupor you’d decided that taking off your underwear was the only priority before bed and you rolled your eyes at yourself before stepping into the shower.

You’d only been under the stream for a few minutes before the shakes started to hit. You turned the temperature down in an attempt to regulate your body temperature, though that did nothing to help the shakes. You managed to wash your hair before you wavered and you knew whatever was still in your system was not okay with you being vertical yet so you lowered yourself to the shower floor, closing your eyes to try and stop the spinning as the water washed over you.

When you finally gathered the energy to get on your feet again you did a very quick wash and rinse of your body, scrubbing away at the smeared make up on your face before wrapping yourself in a towel and making a beeline for your bed on shaky legs. You dropped down onto it, your head now pounding, you’d been hoping to try and get some more sleep but with the way your heart was ringing in your ears you knew that was never going to happen. You so rarely got hangovers you certainly weren’t prepared for how severe this one was. Your head lolled to the side and you whined at the sight of your nightstand empty, drunk you was doing hungover you no favours, no Advil, no cups of water waiting. Dragging yourself off the bed you shuffled into some pyjamas, looking around your room for your purse with no luck, you let out a soft sigh and made your way downstairs.

Your purse was on the door in the entry way, your shoes tossed aside on the floor, keys dumped beside them. At least you’d made it home in one piece. You dug through the pockets of your purse for your phone and once again, ran out of luck. Maybe someone had plugged it in down here, you were sure it had to be somewhere, letting out a huff of defeat you shuffled into the kitchen.

The first thing you did was drop into a chair at the island, your elbows on the counter to prop your head up in your hands as you closed your eyes. The kitchen was bright, way too fucking bright for your senses right now and it made you want to disappear into your room again but you knew you needed to try and make this better. You grabbed a glass of water, returning to your spot at the island as you tried to control your shakes and take tiny sips to start to rehydrate yourself.

“Darling I thought we talked about this.” Your mother’s voice rang through the quiet air like a shrill banshee, her fingers tracing through your damp hair, attempting to untangle a few locks, “you need to do those hair treatments right as you get out of the shower.”

“I barely made it down the stairs mom.” You grumbled back, your voice hoarse, your throat hurt, still dry as sandpaper.

“You’re hungover.” She clicked her tongue, “not a surprise considering the shape you were in last night.” She moved toward the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of sparkling water for herself, “another thing I thought we talked about, or have you forgotten the rules in the years you’ve been away? You cannot go and make a fool of yourself at events like that. You have a reputation and a family name to uphold, I’m a little ashamed on your behalf today, I hope you know that.” You ignored her, taking another tiny sip of water.

“Have you seen my phone?”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’ve lost that along with your dignity?”

“Mom.” You half groaned, wincing at the sound of your own voice, “I get it okay, I’m sorry, you don’t need to lecture. And it’s not in my room or my purse, I just thought someone might’ve plugged it in down here.”

“I can call the club, it’s probably there or in Brock’s car.”

The glass stilled halfway to your lips and your brow scrunched as you finally looked up at her, head tilting in confusion, “why would it be in Brock’s car?”

“Well he drove you home sweetheart.”

“I… Ethan drove me home.” You struggled through the sentence as you really started to think about the night before and just how much you actually could remember. Your mom laughed,

“Why would Ethan leave his own party?” She shook her head, “you were more far gone than I thought. Everyone saw you and Brock leave together, he even texted me and your father to say you were home safe. That young man really is such a gentleman.”

“Yeah… sure.” Another wave of nausea was building up inside your body, heat churning from down in your gut all the way through you as you started to overheat again.

“You know, I am so happy that you finally said yes to a date with him!” She smiled brightly at you and your heart about dropped into your stomach, “I knew that whole thing with the Novak girl was just a phase you’d grow out of and now’s the perfect time for you and Brock to get together.” She leant in to press a kiss to your cheek, “I’m sure he’s thrilled and can’t wait to see you at dinner.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick…”

It was barely over a mutter, one that your mother didn’t even hear as she made her way out of the room and you were honestly lucky that you made it to the hallway bathroom in time. There was barely anything to throw up, water, stomach acid, but that wasn’t stopping the intense dry heaving. Your entire body shuddering, coated in a sheen of sweat as tears pooled in your eyes, another bout of stomach acid expelling from you and you were finally sure the heaving was done. Flushing the toilet you leant back against the bathroom wall, your eyes shutting as you tried to catch your breath, relishing in the cool air of the room. Before you even had time to think there was a knock at the door,

“Mom, seriously…”

“Miss Y/n?” Larissa’s soft voice came through the crack in the door as she nudged it open.

“Oh, sorry.”

“If you’re that sick you should drink this, electrolytes.” She held out a bottle of Pedialyte to you and you took it as she settled on the side of the tub, “and saltine crackers. They’ll help settle your stomach.”

“Thanks.” You smiled wearily at her, your body still tremoring somewhat, “hey have you seen my phone? I really wanna call Case.”

“No.” She frowned, “I’m sorry. You could use mine? If you’re worried about your parents knowing?”

“I—” you sighed, your head dropping against the wall behind you, “the only part of her phone number I know is that it’s a New York area code.”

“I’m sure it’s just at the club.” She offered with a small smile.

“Yeah. Were you here when I got home last night?” You asked, hoping she could help you piece things together.

“I was already in my room. But I heard you come in, two voices, sounded like Mr. Lexington, footsteps on the stairs, less than a minute later, he came back down and left. I went out to make sure the door was locked.”

“So he was in the house like… less than five minutes?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You sighed, cracking the bottle of Pedialyte and taking a small sip.

“You don’t remember coming home?” She asked, her brow furrowing as she looked across at you.

“No. It’s completely black. I remember saying goodnight to Kim, but things start to go out around there. Normally it’s like… fuzzy, ya know?”

“I’m sure it will start to come back to you.” She stood, squeezing at your shoulder, “c’mon, get back up to your room, I’ll bring you a hangover relief tray.”

“You truly are the only good thing about this city.”

You accepted her hand to help pull you to your feet, letting out another groan as you did so. Right now you needed to get some remedies into you and hopefully some more sleep. You could deal with the rest of this when you finally had your head on straight.

Casey chewed on her lip as her eyes darted around her room, ring box still in her hand as she tried to figure out where to hide it. It had to be somewhere she’d remember but hidden enough you wouldn’t spot it. She knew you likely weren’t going to be able to escape your parents until she was in the Hampton’s anyways so she could probably just stash it in her dresser for now. She’d want to pull it out to admire it and imagine the future that lay in front of the two of you anytime she felt like it.

She was distracted in her daydreams as she picked up her phone, clicking on your contact and letting the line ring a few times until a voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Morning baby! How was the rest of the party I—” She stalled suddenly, realizing the voice that answered was deep, a man’s voice and she pulled the phone away from her ear to make sure she’d called you, “hello?”

“Hello?” The voice repeated.

“I’m uh… looking for y/n?”

“Well this is her phone, who is this?”

“Casey.” She replied adamantly, starting to get annoyed. Then she remembered you had an older brother, one you bickered with frequently and her shoulders relaxed, “is this Ethan?”

“No,” he chuckled, “this is Brock.”

Casey felt her blood run cold. The last time she’d heard that name was the day after you didn’t come home from a night of partying. The name that came up relatively frequently when you spoke about Washington, the annoying family that your parents seemed to love so much and the son who they wanted you to end up with.

“Oh…” Brock started with a small laugh, “Casey… Harvard girl! The roommate! Yeah I think your name came up last night, somewhere in between all the shots.”

“Yeah… that’d be me. Can I talk to her please?”

“Sorry sweetheart. She’s still sleepin’.” She cringed at the pet name, it practically made her skin crawl, she heard the creak of a door swing open then shut softly with a click, “yup. Out like a light. Makes sense, we had a pretty wild, late night. One too many cocktails, you know how that goes.” He laughed, “I thought she texted you before we left the party? Did she forget to hit send or something?”

“I.. uh..” Casey pulled the phone away from her ear, swiping though the screen to notice she did in fact have two text notifications from you she’d missed in her excitement over the ring. “Guess I didn’t see those.” On the other side of the line Brock let out an obnoxious yawn.

“Well Case, how about you check those and I’ll tell her you called. I’m gonna have to let you go, pretty wiped myself, think I need a nap. Man, she really knows how to tire ya out, doesn’t she?”

The phone line went dead with a click.

Casey felt like her heart was beating a million miles a minute, her stomach doing flip flops as her brain tried to process what had just happened. This had to be her imagination playing tricks on her. She nearly felt dizzy, bile starting to creep up her throat as her thumb hovered over the text icon.

She wasn’t really sure she even wanted to open them. Couldn’t she hold on to this little moment of happiness just a little longer?

___________

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#reblog #casey novak #casey novak x reader #law and order svu #heavy hearts #casey novak series #casey novak au #harvard au #law and order #law and order special victims unit #svu

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