#he dreams of losing his salvation and on those nights he tucks himself a little more into porsche's side and holds on tighter

[marcusluvshelly]

What are these tags even... I'm crying

KinnPorsche Week 2022

Day 3: Favorite couple - KINN X PORSCHE

[seriously-really-soft]

“I see heaven in you”

a/n: i struggled with this piece so much, and i felt like the process brought up a lot of what i lack as a writer, so the fact that i could face them one word at a time brought me a lot of joy. i still have a lot to learn, but for now, i’m ready to hibernate. I always love hearing from you guys, so if there’s anything you wish to say about any of my writing, my ask box and messages are always open. I really encourage you to reblog and give this a like if you’re enjoying it, and i hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Warnings: angst, implied character death, implied loss of religion, a bit of violence, Simeon goes through a lot here

Pairing: Simeon x gender neutral MC

Word Count: 1,422

     “I have spent all of this night and every sunrise after this laying just outside of heaven’s door in hopes that I may see you again, thinking you up as though you will come to me in the way that divine message came to prophets, so that I may see you in a dream and find rest in your shade. You must know that I’ve wanted to wake to you every day since I knew - knew that I wanted to be for you what music hopes to be to love, you are not unaware, I know, that these same wishes were professed to your skin by my lips the night we parted, when stars on your body answered more wishes than heaven allows believers into paradise. Now I spend time counting blemishes on the sun, I live as I’ve never lived with you, and clouds fall to earth in this unceasing wishing of mine, before heaven’s pretentious forever audience, that I could wake to your voice in my ear where paradise comes to me in your breath. How much more this lofty existence must be spent here where my lips cannot be brought to yours in the way we so often did, where the moon can shine only through your stare, where I cannot undress myself of these tears before your eyes?”

     All of heaven’s guests settled comfortably by his feet, as if listening to a story, and in their silence there pooled streams on the clouds they rested upon, tears they could not explain and sorrow that would not wash away. For a moment Simeon felt that he could make out the sound of you from somewhere far away, lost amidst the stars beneath, and once again he found himself lost in his yearning, in how he wished to sift through their radiance as he did when he lost the little fool in his chest to the history of your body. He dreamt of finding you tucked asleep in the dark between them, and in your reunion he knew it would be as though the universe itself could not bare you too far.

     Should these wings fall from me in my reach to you, I ask them for shade by  your side, where winter and decay are made foreign; I wish that you won’t hurt then, my one, and that all that I am may be traced by your hands, brought into existence only through your eyes.

     “Know you, guests of this paradise, that my faith is of no less sermon than what is spoken for the brightest light, than the praise that exists for your highest creature; my lover’s space on my body is no different from the light that guides you here. You are hearing of them as the morning birds have heard me weep through their every song. Through me you hear what the masters above have always known. With this heart of mine their lover and these lips their poet, wherein my angel kissed some brilliance unto me, I ask you to remember of them, the one I wish for in every life from this world to the next, I wish that you’d know of the one I see in my oblivion, when existence is only as big as the mind. Offer your sweetest speech to my lover, it is from their light that you see me beautiful now and were it not for what those above already knew about what lies in my heart, all the oceans I have threatened to make real in this constant remembrance of them that I do before you, I would have touched them as they’ve touched me, with every wonder of the world in my embrace.”

     Some soul looked at him then, its throat parched from the constant sun that rose over the Celestial Realm, and it seemed to ask him, what more from language even sweeter than this do you have to give for the flowers that bleed and the stars that fall as consequence of this sin, of these secrets, in your heart?

     “There’s little more that can come from me except that in life you wished on those same falling stars and it was through those wishes that paradise found in you love and revealed itself to you upon your arrival; it was with those same flushed flowers that you found your every love.”

     Simeon looked below once more, where clouds and sun rays kept secret the world beneath, and without any further thought, he let himself fall.

     Though in this fickle fool there is fear still, oh lovely masters in paradise, in me there is more love for them than there ever is the thought of you. What you choose to take from me no longer remains a necessity, that too I've found in my lover, and if you could see what stars come to life in their eyes, you’d want to fall, too.

                                                           … 

     At first, Simeon could not feel his wings falter as feathers began to fall, each pluck a tight yank until all that was left was the puckered pink flesh beneath. He didn’t know how long he’d been falling for, just that he was losing feeling in his spine, the circulation slowly cutting off from his wings. The smell of their wounds became lost to air, where he knew he would never be mentioned again.

     Simeon didn’t think time was much of a concept, and as images of his life from above appeared to him over and over again, as if they were nothing more than dreams passing by, the answers fell before him so vividly then, like realizations of an end. Time before them was a mural in grey, and the bricks he stacks so diligently before built a prison, his prison, where the walls would only enclose further - more, more, and more until the only sound to return to him would be of his own breath. There really wasn’t much of a life, at least not for him, up there where creation’s favorite lay, amongst whom only Luke sang his blessing. Simeon could close his eyes and hear him singing still, through the pain of decaying wings, through the sorrow of plummeting through realms in the company of stars, Simeon held onto the sound and found peace in the vision of his lover.

     When he reached the Devildom, Simeon found himself by Diavolo’s feet, immobile under the weight of his decaying wings. With every scrape against the sullied ground decomposition gasses released into the air with a quiet fwoosh, the stench so overwhelming that Simeon retched where he lay and briefly attempted to hold his breath in fear of inhaling it again. His cheek was gently laid against the floor before the sound of footsteps reached him.

     MC?

     Their hands fell to his face as they kneeled by his side, swiping hair away from his sweating face.

     I’ve found my way to light, and you … you are so bright, my one. I wish you could see the stars I find in your eyes.

     And they said to him, “I see you, my love.”

     Diavolo’s voice was a buzz, drifting past the shore of some far away land, and Simeon couldn’t think to make sense of his words. All he could think of was MC’s touch, the relief and cool it brought to his flushed face, the tears he could hear meeting the ground by his head.

     You are even kinder still, I never want for you to hurt in this way.

     Hands, many small hands stretched his arms towards the back, wings lifted off the floor, tugged towards the sky by gloved hands and a slight, firm pressure was placed upon his lower back. The peaceful pause lasted only a few seconds before his wings were being torn off with a cruck!

     Screaming, from Simeon there was only screaming and scalding tears in that place, screaming ‘til his mouth hushed itself to sleep. His eyes rolled to his head in brief delirium, and for a moment he wished he could no longer feel, that he could melt into MC’s touch and be seen no more.

     Then, there was relief as Diavolo placed a hand to his back, willing the seared tissue to heal. When Simeon finally had enough strength to focus, from his left he could make out a horde of lesser demons finding a feast, a chance for salvation, in his abandoned wings.

     He looked towards MC, I see heaven in you.

     “May you find rest.”

[vegetacide]

Sleepless

Veg●notable: So... this popped into my head.. wrote it.. and here we are.

Any mistakes are purely my own...

Characters: Kayo/Virgil, Jeff Tracy

General warning: Just a little gropey

Word count: 4541 words

Time: Middle of the night. Crack past when regular people would be sleeping

Location: Lounge balcony, Island

Summary: Someone is having a hard time sleeping.. stuff happens. Embarrassment ensues.

Enjoy!

o0o

Virgil sat upright with a jolt, the feeling of foreboding and dread chasing him into the land of wakefulness. Breath heaving, heart pounding a rapid staccato in his chest, he scrambled up his rumpled bed until his back found the headboard and kicked his legs free of the tangle of linens.

Croaking out a command, the shadowy remnants of the nightmare which had been plaguing his slumber vanished as the soft, pre-programmed lighting illuminated the quiet space of his room. Reassuring him that he wasn’t actually hanging from a mountain a mere finger’s width away from a trapped climber..

Cursing softly to himself, he racked a hand through his sleep tousled hair and swung his legs over the side of the bed resisting the urge to shiver as the temperature controlled air breezed over his sweat soaked back.

Slouching he braced his elbows on his knees and rubbed the exhausted fog from his eyes. The dream had felt so real, the blistering cold, the blinding wind, the burning chill in his chest as he desperately tried to stretch those last few centimetres.

He’d been so very close yet not close enough. The climber’s pleading voice, hoarse from screaming grew quiet and an odd calm of realization had settled over the indistinguishable features of their face. A dark truth had been registered, that salvation was not in the cards for them.

In that instant Virgil had recognized the climber’s sudden intent and throwing all caution to the bitter mountain wind, he’d lunged. His thighs coiling then thrusting him out and away from the purchase of the ledge he’d been dangling from and just as he started to free fall, the climber let go…

He stared down at his hand and frowned at the slight tremble in them. Clenching them a few times and dispelling the dull phantom ache he felt from the situation that had been conjured from the depths of his own subconscious.

Catching the dim, blue numerals of the digital display on his night stand, Virgil exhaled wearily and with a grunt of effort pushed to his feet. A couple hours of sleep was better than no sleep at all but after three straight days of this, the lack of a full eight was starting to wear on him.

His brothers always razzed on him for his late morning sleeping habits and it looked like it was going to be no different once the sun decided to crest the horizon. Little did they know though that his penchant for daytime slumber was more out of a dire need than laziness on his part.

He’d suffered the insomniatic spurts for a large part of his adult life. Some due to traversing multiple time zones on a regular and completely throwing off his natural circadian rhythm and other from an over-active mind that just ceased to shut off at a reasonable time.

He’d tried various sleep aids over the years, from the medicinal variety to the drinkable kind with a percentage stamped on the side of the bottle but neither of them were long-term solutions. Both had side effects that were detrimental to his chosen career path. Hard to concentrate on a rescue in a drug induced fog or function effectively with a hangover. He knew that from experiences and both were definitely something he didn’t want to try or risk again with lives on the line.

So letting the brotherly teasing just roll off him was his preferred dénouement. As for the twilight hours from dusk till dawn? He filled those lonely hours with copious midnight sessions in the island gym, or with twilight maintenance work on his ‘Bird. The latter had been done so frequently that he could reassemble Two’s VTOL thruster assembly blindfolded, one hand tied behind his back and with a set of nail clippers as his only tool…. On the rare occasion when the exhaustion wasn’t too intolerable, he’d even break out his art supplies. Usually though his creative muse would be out cold in a corner somewhere so his productivity on those nights was severely lacking and whatever he managed to produce was subpar at best.

No one ever saw those works of so-called “art”. They were tucked away in the far back corner of his art studio saved from the trash for some reason he was unable to wrap his head around despite the fact that he loathed them for their complete ineptitude.

Crap results or not, it served its purpose of distracting his mind from whatever it was that was preventing him from dreamland and he found that on more than one occasion he managed to just stumble off to bed again before the rest of the house had roused to start their day. Hiding the fact that sleep had been evading him and effectively staving off both the worry wart that was Scott and matriarchal commandeering presence of his Grandmother.

Though these days, he had the added pressure of dealing with the wandering presence of his father as well. Who seemed to ghost around the house at night as much as he did. Virgil suspected that his father was still adjusting to being Earth side and except for one instance had managed to avoid him.

Jeff Tracy’s sleep patterns were erratic at best but that was to be expected after his survival ordeal in the Oort cloud. Virgil knew from a medical standpoint that given time his father would eventually adjust but in the meantime, he would have to play a one sided version of cat and mouse with the man just so he didn’t set his father’s somewhat questionable mental stability for a spin. He had enough on his plate to deal with already, he didn’t need the added weight of his second oldest son’s problems on top of it.

Giving his head a shake at the direction of his thoughts, Virgil made his way over to his closet. If he let his mind drift in that way for too long he would find himself down a rabbit hole he would have a hard time finding his way out of. At the moment he didn’t have the mental stamina or the wherewithal for it either.

Reaching blindly into the dark depths of his closet Virgil rummaged around until his fingers came across the soft cotton of a well loved pair of track pants. Slipping the loose folds of worn fabric over his legs he contemplated his options for the rest of the night and just couldn’t drum up the energy to make a decision.

Catching a glimpse at his bed out of the corner of his eye he knew that staying in his room wasn’t on the table. Turning, Virgil made his way quietly on bare feet out the door and towards the stairs. Maybe something good would be on late night TV but knowing his luck as of late it was unlikely. At this point though it was better than coming up with an alternative. He’d already gone over Two with a fine toothed comb and his muscles were still recuperating from the previous nights work out. Last thing he wanted to do was to end up with a work out related injury. He was already pushing safety parameters on call outs as it was and a sprain or strain was going to have him benched for sure

---

Ten minutes of channel surfing was all it took before Virgil hit the fed up phase of his evening. Abso-fucking nothing on TV. Nothing at least that could keep his attention. Tossing the remote somewhere to his left, he shoved up to his feet, grabbed his glass off the low table and headed out on to the balcony to watch the light show of a storm that was passing by off-shore.

Leaning his elbow on the railing overlooking the pool he watched the play of light as it rumbled across the dense cloud cover. By the looks of it, the storm was shaping up to be a big one but all their scans told them it would keep well to the South of their island home. Even as far out to sea as it was, the winds were starting to pick up and Virgil could hear the storm surge as it crashed against the shoals and rocky outcroppings far below the family villa.

Losing himself to the slashes of lightning that danced across the heavens in a vibrant display of scorching white streaks buffeting, turbulent bruise coloured clouds that in an instant succumb to the abysmal void of inky black. He could feel in his bones that beep bass rumbles that followed. Thrumming through the Earth, cement and rebar of his home up though his feet and the oppressiveness of its ferocity weighed on him. Even all these many miles away the might of Mother Nature could be felt. He just prayed that no one was stupid enough to be out in that mess.

“Fingers crossed.”

*-*-*

It hadn’t been her intention to startle him. Far from it and it wasn’t like she was trying to be quiet about her approach. Virgil had been just so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed her standing beside him contemplating the stark contrast of light and shadows across the expanse of his tense back and heavy shoulders.

“Shit… Kayo, you scared the crap out of me.” He heaved a sigh, settling his weight against the railing again.

“Sorry, didn’t mean too but I was just agreeing with what you said.”

Puzzled eyes turned towards her and a thick brow arched in question to her statement.

Mirroring his pose, she gave his shoulder a nudge with her own before pointing a finger off towards the churning storm. “That no one is stupid enough to be out in that.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he processed her words, noting the stiffness to his posture, the way the darkness hung like a bruise under his tired eyes and the paler of his skin. Even in the limited lighting he looked more ghost-like than human.

He gave a grunt of understanding before turning back to watch the storm and lifting his tumbler to the distant clouds in a salute. “Here’s to hoping.” The last dregs in the glass disappeared in short order as he tossed it back. The whiff of whiskey wafting her way as he set the empty vessel on the railing between them.

“I thought you were on rota tomorrow?” She questioned as she eyed the glass and wondered how much had been consumed.

“I am.” His eyes followed hers and he gave a shrug but no further explanation and Kayo didn’t press.

She’d basically grown up with the man and his brothers so she trusted his judgement impeccably but there was still something bothering her about the whole scene. Something felt off..

“You okay?” She was never one to bat around the bushes and her gut was very seldom wrong especially where it concerned the man beside her. The man she’d stopped seeing as a sibling sometime ago and started seeing as something else entirely. It was something that started to blossom one unforgettable snowy night the previous November in New York but neither of them had had the time to tend to since…. Other more pressing things had gotten in the way and there was now another Tracy planet side and returned from the dead as a result.

Maybe now…

He gave a shrug and he shifted to look at her, the wind blowing in off the coast tousling his unstyled hair in a roguish way across his brow. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about.”

He was holding something back, she could tell. Something eerie lurked in his tired walnut gazed. Shifting across the usual vivid depths like the smoldering haze after a wildfire. Dampening what was usually brilliant and clear.

She stepped towards him, her hand reaching to cup his check. The unshaved scruff rough against the palm of her hand. “I’m a good listener if you need an ear.”

He turned into her embrace, brushed his lips over the soft flesh of her hand in silent thanks and smiled at her. “Kinda a prerequisite in your line of work.”

Her own lips quirked up. “Growing up in a house full of testosterone it was a necessity or I would never have been able to sneak out at night with five over protective brothers.”

Virgil chuckled, some of the murkiness leaving his eyes. “Point taken.”

She let her hand drop and a flash of something like disappointed flickered across his brow.

His breath fanned across her face as he sighed, the light fragrance of whiskey warming her. “So…” she said, crossing her arms and emitting the air of stubbornness she was known for. “Spill already.”

A heavy shoulder lifted, the light cast through the open lounge doors catching on the planes of thick muscle with the movement and she couldn’t resist brushing a hand over the warm skin.

“Rough night, that’s all.”

“Can’t sleep again?’

He looked surprised at her question and she had her answer without him saying a word.

“Virgil, I specialize in security. I am well aware of your night time routine.Two has never run better and the gym equipment requires a break from you before you actually break it. Besides,” She added admiring the way his biceps bunched as he rested his hands on his hips, “You get any bigger you won’t be able to fit down Two’s chute”

A soft curse slipped past his lips. It was obvious that he’d thought that his attempts to avoid his family had been successful.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t or wont say anything to Scott.” Her fingers gave his shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance. “If it gets worse I know you’ll do the right thing and say something yourself. You’re dealing with it right now in your own way and you have a right to your own privacy and council. Just, if you wanna talk...” she stalled out on her offering, shifting her gaze away from his to take in the night around them as heat started to colour her cheeks.

A moment later his fingers danced across her brow and she sucked in a breath as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His strong musician’s fingers lingered until she met his eyes again.

He was looking down at her, so close now that the bare skin of his chest brushed hers with every breath. He seemed to be sturdier now, more so then when she’d discovered him looking despondently at the storm. An assuredness that had been missing before seemed to have returned to the strong line of his jaw and the tension she’d seen in his posture was gone. There was a shift in the air around him, almost anticipatory in nature and she felt a thrill run down her spine.

Her pulse kicked at the heat imbued in his eyes as he gently angled her face towards his own. She stammered, not able to finish off what she had been about to say. “..uh..talk about....”

“Thank you, Tin’ He whispered, the oaky tang of alcohol ghosting across her lips and effectively stopping her uncharacteristic fumbling.

It took but a nanosecond for her brain to go from a midair stall out to ignition. Her inner monologue screamed, demanding that she act. Only the slightest of movements would be needed to bridge the distance between them. An easy contraction of muscles and she could push up on her toes, silencing all other words with the meeting of their lips. Without further hesitation, she did just that.

Months of denied contact and frustration sprang to the fore, blazing bright and intoxicating. Before either of them were aware, they were wrapped around each other. His strong body flush to her own, his hand tangled in her hair that had somehow between one second and the next come undone from its customary binding.

“God..” she panted, barely recognizing her own voice. His lips skimming across her flesh, trailing like fire down her neck to that spot that made her world flip on its axis. Light headed she scraped her nails down his back. Seeking purchase as her knees grew weak.

“I’ve missed you…”

He emitted a groan of approval. The sound heady, potent and oh so primal. It was almost her undoing and the burn within her flared.

Desperate for more and caring little about where they were standing, she slipped her hand between them...

The sudden intrusion of a throat clearing had them springing apart so fast that she almost lost her footing and she gracelessly plopped down on the nearest lounger. A feeble attempt on her part to save face. The instantaneous lack of Virgil’s body heat made her shiver and it sobered her mind faster than any cold shower could.

One of the overhead lights flicked on and the silhouetted figure at the balcony door came into sharp focus. A short striped housecoat was sashed neatly at a trim waist and slippered feet scuffed lightly over the flooring as the head of the house stepped out onto the balcony. In one hand he swirled a glass of water. Condensation dribbling over faintly scared hands as the ice cubes tinkled with the rhythmic movement.

“Tanusha,” He greeted, one proud eyebrow arched high over suspicious eyes as he scanned over the breathless pair. “Son.”

*-*-*

Fuck… that was all that came to mind as Virgil gaped at his father though he knew better than to voice the expletive.

Reaching out a hand, he grasped at the railing and wished his own long forgotten glass wasn’t so empty.

How in hell was he going to explain this?

He peered over to Kayo hoping that she could provide something, anything that might salvage the situation. The stunned deer-caught-in-the-headlights look he found though didn't bode well.

His first attempt to speak caught in his throat and he cleared it self consciously before risking a quick glance down to assess his person. Thankfully everything was where it should be and mercifully, PG...well...kind of.

“...Dad…It’s late, what are you doing up?”

Jeff blinked at his son then held up his glass, the answer obvious. “Hydrating, as I can see you have been doing too.”

“Oh..ya that… just a night cap.”

“And you’re on call in the morning?” It was said more like a statement than a question and Virgil did his best to hide the wince at the hidden reprimand.

His father turned to Kayo, effectively dismissing the subject from further conversation as he was well aware that his message had been received loud and clear.

Virgil did a fast and stealthy re-adjustment of his pants and groaned internally. Chances were by morning he would find that his shift had been rescheduled and he was going to need to dodge the Scott Tracy hairy eyeball all day. An unwritten rule that all the younger brothers were well aware of; never mess with the Commander’s schedules. It was some old hang up from his military days that he’d never grown out of to the detriment of the rest of the island. As unpredictable as Scott could be when on mission, at home you could figure out the time of day by what the eldest was doing. From his morning jog right down to when he grabbed the daily stock reports and headed to the bathroom.

It was kind of freaky actually. The man’s bowels were perfectly timed, no matter the food that went in...even if it was Grandma’s cooking.

Giving the back of his neck a rub, Virgil surmised he spent far too much time with his brother, far, far too much time.

Well with the exception of playing a tantalizing round of ‘avoid the angry, overly concerned big brother’… at least he could attempt to catch up on some sleep.

Ding! Bright side!...Crap.

“Tanusha, didn’t know you were back on the island. How was the flight in?”

“Uh.. hell of a cross wind on approach, ” Kayo finally piped up, returning once more to her feet. Her security agent persona nailed firmly back into place. “But nothing Shadow couldn’t handle.”

“Hmm, glad to hear it. You’ll have to let me take her for a spin sometime.” His father said all conversationally as if that fact that his second eldest and basically his adoptive daughter hadn’t just been about to get it on right there on the balcony like a pair of randy teenagers.

Jeff tipped his chin in the direction of the storm. “Nice light show.”

Virgil caught a hint of a grin on his father’s face that was not quite hidden behind a careful sip of water. The man knew exactly what he was doing and he was loving every minute of it.

“Uhhh… ya. It is.” Well, this was definitely awkward and his father was sadistic. Now would be a fantastic time for John to call down with a situation.. Somewhere.. .Anywhere.. For anything.. Like a cat stuck in a tree in say like Alaska...right now…

Kayo nodded her head in agreement and mouthed an apology in Virgil’s direction when Jeff turned to take in the view. “Well, it’s been lovely talking to you both but duty call.” She glanced down at her wrist as if to check the time but really it was to avoid the pleading look on Virgil’s face. “Canada’s about to come online and they owe me a report on last week’s protocol updates.”

Virgil’s shoulders slumped..

“Good night, Tanusha.”

“Good night, Jeff.” And she slinked off into the house, holding her head high despite that fact that there was still a healthy glow of red riding her cheeks.

Jeff shifted his attention back to Virgil. “So..you two were just,” He actually stopped mid sentence to emphasize his point with finger quotation. “Talking ?”

Exhausted beyond measure, embarrassed within an inch of his life and, if he was going to be truthful to himself; horny as hell…Yup, this evening was summing up to be a real shit show.

Crossing and uncrossing his arms, Virgil really wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It wasn’t like he was a teenager anymore. He was a grown man, of course he had relationships of a romantic nature.. He wasn’t a monk, by any stretch of the imagination but this was his father and old habits apparently did die hard.

Despite the length of time his father had been absent and the fact the family dynamic in the house was still adjusting to the patriarch’s return, Virgil felt like he’d somehow regressed back to a sixteen year old again. Caught making out with his highschool girlfriend on the couch and trying to make up excuses for the state of their undress.

The smile on his father’s face told him though that the man was well aware of his son’s floundering.

“Relax, son.” A humorous snort followed and he wandered over to stand beside him, leaning casually on the railing. “ I believe we had that conversation about the birds and the bees when you were eleven. You’re a grown man, I’m not going to fault you for looking for a bit of peace and comfort. ”

Virgil studied the ground, his mind drifting to the woman that had so captured his attention. He’d been skirting around how he felt in regards to her for months and he still had doubts if it was right of him to feel the way he did. To revise their adoptive familial relationship to something more intimate after everything they had been though. He often wondered if he was in some way taking advantage… as stupid as that might sound to others he seriously questioned his own motives.

It had been Kayo that had taken the first giant leap though. He shouldn’t have been surprised with her intuition. She’d seen right through him. Tore down all his defenses to expose what he so stupidly thought was hidden from her. Everything all out into the open for them both to see and after that..right into a penthouse suite at the Park Hyatt.

One thing about Kayo, she certainly didn’t waste time when the chips were down. She knew what she wanted and she went for it.

“So, you and our Tin-tin, huh?” Jeff chuckled and Virgil brought his attention back to his father.. “I never would have suspected but seeing you two together just now.. Well, I can definitely say that the pair of you are a good match. Complementary to each other actually.”

Despite his own embarrassment, Virgil started to relax. Relieve that his father seemed fine with what he had inadvertently walked in on. “Its, uh.. still very new.”

“Really?” Jeff questioned, his brows shooting up in mild surprise. “With that chemistry? Reminds me of when your Mom and I were together. After the first few months there wasn’t a lot that could distract us from…”

“Dad!” Virgil all but squeaked. He didn’t think it was possible to fit more blood into his head at that moment but apparently he could. Well at least the blood had stopped pooling somewhere else....thank God..

Jeff raised a placating hand and his words carried a laugh in them. “Okay, okay. I will spare you the details. The point being, the pair of you look good together and I must admit even with me still trying to get the lay of the land around here… you two fit and if it makes the pair of you happy, then I wholeheartedly approve.”

Virgil was speechless a moment. It had been the last thing he expected. Approval so easily given from a man he remembered as being rather commanding and if he was being truthful to himself, a bit intimidating.

His father’s time in space had changed him, changed them all in ways they didn't fully understand.

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, his calloused fingers tightening for a brief moment before he turned to watch the storm.

They sat a moment in companionable silence. Father and son, just taking in the light show together, getting reacquainted in a quiet moment while the rest of the house slept on.

It didn’t last long but it was enough to start mending the old tired fences that lay scattered between them. Not broken from misuse but worn from the years of absence. “You should try and get some sleep, son. You look tired and the sun will be up soon enough.”

Virgil inhaled deeply, tasting the distant rain and the linger hint of jasmine on his tongue. He nodded as he pushed away from the railing, rolling his shoulders to loosen up some of the knots that lingered there. “I should.” He agreed but paused before heading inside once more. “Thanks, Dad. Enjoy the storm."

Jeff tipped his glass slightly in salute. "I always did love a good show."

Virgil paused a moment, not sure how to take that but quickly decided he was way too tired to figure it out. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes with a soft chuckle and stepped back into the house.

o0o

FIN

[architectofhope]

Less Cringy NSFW/Intimacy Memes | status: open

@thememcry​ asked “✪ for our muses to be intimate in nature”

  It was like a dream setting foot in this place...

  He’d heard tell of the flower house, but had never seen it with his own eyes — only the fruits of its bounty spilling over planters of the orphanage and tucked in the pockets of the children running around Sector 5′s ground floor. He’d drawn the conclusion that it must have had something to do with the young flower girl he’d fortuitously run down with his bicycle one night, but hadn’t the nerve to ask — that is, until she offered to show him.

  Footsteps on the scaffolded wooden pathways were slow, ambling, for it felt like a sacrilege to race through paradise despite the excitement she displayed in showing him the oasis of her home. His hands wouldn’t remain dutifully tucked in his slacks for long, those delicate fingers pulling and tugging at him, guiding him to and fro, showing him her favorite plants, urging him to smell the blooms and feel their petals.

  It was indulgent in the most decadent way he could think of, plants and life all around... he hadn’t seen anything like this since he was a child, and it all struck such a deep, sentimental chord inside him he barely spoke a word at first; just listening. To her. To the rushing water and the breeze through the leaves. Steeping himself in a world that thrived in spite of his best efforts. The man behind the machines; he didn’t deserve to stand in a place like this, the bitter thoughts reminded him.

  But before he had a chance to give in to those thoughts he found himself being pulled — down, down... down until he was crouched beside her and her cradling his hands tenderly in her own, a glimmer of something playful, something private in her eyes. He’d seen her laugh, and he’d seen her smile many times, but there was something remarkably different about this time...

  ...she was glowing.

  He’d been so entranced by the sun-like radiance of her he hadn’t noticed her hands leaving his to pluck something up from a tiny bag, place it in his palms and usher him eagerly to drop it in the small trowel divot dug in the soil.

  A seed.

 Dark lashes fluttered for a moment, words losing form on his tongue, uncertain of himself — was it really alright? For hands that had graphed and plotted the very siphons of life that rendered the rest of Midgar barren to hold such a precious and rare thing such as a seed? To plant it? Surely everything he touched would wither; it was the Shinra curse after all...

  He had only just placed it in the hole when he found her guiding his hands again, filling them with soft, warm, loamy soil and pressing them into the ground, her palms firm, silken with dirt against the backs of his knuckles. He took a moment to let himself feel the earth beneath his skin, fertile and nourished unlike the dry, cracked cakes of dust that spanned for miles around them. He closed his eyes, lips parting ever so slightly as he inhaled deep into his lungs, committing the feel of it to tactile memory — every clump, every tiny pebble, the generous and welcoming give of it beneath his fingers. Before long he realized he was memorizing her too — the gentle crescent of her nails against the backs of his hands, the pads of her fingertips and the way they trailed little lines of heat with them as they began to slip away.

  Instinctively he turned his palms up, chasing the only thing that could break him away from the sacred connection between earth and its wayward child: the hands that absolved him of sin. Hands that, simply by their touch, guided him out of the darkness and into the light — down from the cold metal plate and back to the earth he’d once known so long ago and had thought he’d never know again.

  Hands that reminded him that he had to keep fighting for this world, even if he didn’t deserve to have his own hand in its salvation. She believed in him, and that was enough.

  He grasped her hands before they would slip away, palm to palm, remnants of earth between them; a living bond. 

  He drew those hands to his face, bowing his head so that the scruff of his short-cropped beard grazed her knuckles, pressing a tender, long-lingering kiss thereon. 

   He was not a man who prayed to god, but in that silent moment he prayed to her. Prayed for forgiveness. Prayed for his salvation. Prayed for things a young woman should never have to bear the burden of but that he could not help but to pour from the depths of his soul, cherishing her hands so small and delicate within his own. 

  Please forgive me.

[thotful-writing]

A Devil Like Jesus (7)

ReaderxSeed Brothers

Full Fic on AO3

Description: You were brought back to John’s Ranch, badly wounded and begging for death. Joseph sent for Faith to give you a low dose of Bliss, hopefully to help with the nightmares and help you sleep long enough to heal.

Warnings: Angst, depictions of death

Jacob returned with Faith shortly, you continued to fight Joseph and John as you struggled to find any kind of solace.

“Father, Jacob told me you needed Bliss?” Faith entered the living room.

“Yes, but not for confession.” He guided her downstairs to see John holding you in his arms as you cried.

“What’s wrong with her?” She looked worriedly.

“She is plagued by dreams, unable to sleep. Can we use the Bliss to sedate her?”

“I-I don’t know. It’s never been used for that. I’m not sure what the outcome would be. It’s possible-“

“We have to try at least. We can’t just let her continue like this.” Jacob spoke up.

Faith stared at you as you trembled, your face red and stained with tears, she felt for you, she really did, to be tortured like this. She stepped into the room and approached you slowly, she sat in the floor in front of John.

“Your suffering shall end soon, my sweet angel.” She reached up and tucked your hair behind your ear.

You didn’t recoil from her touch, you had never seen her before, of course you knew of her, everyone did, the junky turned savior. She looked like an angel, an aura surrounded her as she moved closer to you. Honestly, at this point you’d welcome anything if there was a chance it could end all of this. She pulled a syringe from her pocket, holding it up and flicking it to make sure there were no bubbles in it.

“This is going to help you.” She said as John held your arm out for her, she felt your arm until she found a vein and pushed the needle in, releasing the Bliss into your bloodstream.

You relaxed into John’s arms, feeling like you were melting into him, your eyes grew heavy as your limbs fell limp. Joseph and Jacob stepped into the room as they watched you. You struggled to hold your eyes open as the drugs coursed through your body, as your eyes fluttered shut you saw Joseph kneeling in front of you.

“God forgives all sins, but you must ask for forgiveness…” Joseph’s voice echoed through your mind.

You opened your eyes to see Joseph preaching in a field, in that field, with that tree. You moved towards him, it felt like you were floating, everything was foggy, but you didn’t feel any pain or exhaustion.

“You are not your sins…” He spoke again to the group of people seated in the grass.

You stood behind him now, he hadn’t acknowledged your presence at all as you watched him speak so passionately. Finally, he turned to you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You can achieve salvation, peace within yourself, all you have to do is ask.”

Your body twitched in John’s arms, you had only been out for a few minutes, but they were hopeful this would work.

“We need to restrain her, just in case.” Jacob gathered some rope and walked towards John.

“No. I’ll hold her.” John pulled you closer to him, he didn’t want you to wake up restrained and panic.

“John, she’ll be alright. We can keep a better eye on her if she’s restrained.” Joseph reached out for him to hand you over.

Reluctantly, John placed you in Joseph’s arms and they proceeded to tie your arms and feet to the bed frame. Your eyes moved quickly, and your body twitched and jerked, but you were still asleep. They circled your bed and watched you intensely as if they were waiting for something to happen.

“I don’t deserve salvation. I’m the snake in the Garden of Eden.” You shook your head.

“The snake is not aware they are the snake. Nor would they care.”

Joseph disappeared from in front of you. You looked around for him, but only saw the tree, he told you he came here for clarity. You sat down in the grass like he had done before and inhaled deeply, closing your eyes.

“If I’m not the snake, then what am I?” You asked in your mind, but your voice rang clear through the air.

“You can’t stand around watching her all day, go find something to do. I’ll sit with her.” Faith stood behind the men as they crowded around the bed.

Jacob and Joseph turned to leave but noticed John hadn’t moved. Joseph placed his hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to follow. He waited for another moment before joining them upstairs. Faith pulled up a chair and sat next to your bed as you continued to move in your sleep.

“The bliss will carry you to the other side, let it in, let it show you the way.” Faith whispered into your ear, you sighed slightly at her words.

She sat next to you and held your hand, you’d squeeze her every now and then, she liked to think it was comforting for you to know someone was with you. She watched over you, you must be important if The Father was willing to go through all of this for you, if they all were.

“Do you think this is going to work? Will she be back to normal?” John paced the living room.

“I don’t know, John. We just have to wait and see. She may not ever be back to normal completely, she endured a lot. Probably more than what we know of.” Joseph wanted to reassure his brother, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up for a full recovery.

“She… She said she left because she dreamt about killing us?” Jacob looked at Joseph.

“I think the dreams were much more than that, but yes. She was afraid she would harm us so she left.”

“How do we fight off fucking dreams? What if she starts having them again and can’t control herself not to act on them?” Jacob stood and joined John in pacing.

“You’re worried about her killing us? What about the girl down there who’s been hallucinating and tormented for weeks? The woman who saved all of our fucking lives? Does she mean that little to you?” John glared at him.

“No, but I’m trying to think ahead, we need to be prepared to-“

“To what? Fucking kill her? Do you hear yourself?” John’s body tensed, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, not again, even if it meant going against his brothers.

“Enough, we don’t know what’s going to happen and speculating isn’t helping. John, why don’t you go check on her and Faith?” Joseph stood between them.

John stormed off and headed downstairs, he would rather be with you anyways.

“Let’s refrain from speaking about killing her, it only upsets him.” Joseph sat down in the armchair.

“Don’t act like you weren’t going down there earlier to end her life, you told us to kill her if she returned, well here she is and she’s still alive.”

“I-I didn’t know… I didn’t know about the dreams, I thought she had run from us… How wrong I was, she was trying to protect us and, in the process, she ended up causing herself more pain and torment.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, he could never forgive himself for doubting you, for turning his back so easily, but mostly for not seeing your suffering.

“How is she doing?” John stood in the doorway.

“She’s cried out a few times and jerked around a bit, but nothing too bad. She keeps saying something about a ‘snake in the garden’.” Faith stood and approached John, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek.

“She is going to be okay, the bliss will take care of her.”

“I hope so, I- we, can’t lose her again.” His eyes never moved from you.

“Who is she? Why does she have all of you in such an uproar?” Faith watched as John moved towards you, a gentleness she hadn’t seen in him before.

“She… She saved our lives, more than once apparently.” He crouched down and held your hand, gently running his thumb over your knuckles.

“How do I get out of here?” Your voice echoed again, suddenly Joseph appeared, sitting in front of you.

“You can’t leave yet, it’s not time.” His voice carried through the openness of the plain.

“When will it be time then?”

“When you forgive yourself and let go of the sins that have poisoned you.” He disappeared again, leaving you alone in the field.

“Thank you for coming, Faith. When-If, she wakes up I’d like for you to meet her.” Joseph said as she entered the living room.

“When she wakes up, I’d love to meet the woman that has all of the Seed’s so enamored. She must be truly special.”

“That she is. I can have someone take you back home if you’d like?”

“There isn’t much else I can do for her, let me know how everything turns out.” She smiled as Joseph pressed his forehead to hers briefly before asking a follower to escort her home.

That night they continued to take shifts watching you, John avoided talking with Jacob directly, he was still angry at him. Joseph felt the guilt of what happened to you the most, he should have noticed your suffering, he should have been able to help you. He sat on the side of your bed next to you, his hand brushing the hair from your face. John sat in a chair at the foot of your bed.

“Please forgive me…” He whispered.

“Do you think she can hear us?” Jacob leaned against the door frame.

“Possibly.” John said as he rested his hand on your ankle.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have been so quick to suggest- well, you know. When she left, I assumed she had run, I shutdown any thoughts of an alternative.” Jacob looked over at John.

“We all made mistakes. The choice is how we make up for them now.” Joseph turned to look at his brothers.

“How the hell do I forgive myself?” You stood and paced in the field.

Joseph always talked about forgiveness and cleansing your soul of sins, but he never actually told you how the fuck to do it. You paced and racked your brain for something, anything that would help, but he talked so much it was hard to remember all of it.

“I-I forgive myself.” You looked around, but nothing changed, obviously saying it wasn’t the way.

You inhaled deeply and released the breath, you thought about all the people you had killed, you knew the way out of this would be to embrace what had been torturing you for so long. Suddenly, those whose lives you took surrounded you. At first you felt that familiar panic set in, there were so many, their faces blank as they stared at you. You took another deep breath and released it.

“I killed all of you…I took lives that were not mine to take. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can choose what path I take now.”

“What path do you choose, my child?” The people disappeared and Joseph stood in front of you.

“Salvation.”

You woke up suddenly, inhaling sharply and opening your eyes, you pulled against your restraints and looked around, you saw all three of the Seed’s staring at you like you’d come back from the dead.

“Wh-What’s going on?” You looked at your hands and feet tied to the bed and tested the restraints again.

“How are you feeling?” Joseph watched you as you pulled on the ropes.

“I feel like shit. Why am I tied to the bed?”

Joseph slid off the bed and crouched in the floor next to you, you looked at him confused for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips briefly. He stood and moved aside as Jacob approached you.

“If this is some weird sex-“ You were cut off by Jacob pressing his lips to yours, forcefully.

He pulled back and stepped out of the way when you saw John walking towards you.

“Will some-“ You were stopped again by John’s lips latching onto your own, his kiss deep and passionate, his hand cupped your face. You pulled on your restraints, wanting to touch him.

He finally released you and sat on the edge of your bed, your cheeks were flush, and you felt desire uncurling in your stomach.

“Now that everyone has kissed me, will someone please tell me what’s going on? Why the fuck am I tied to this bed?”

“Do you not remember-” Joseph furrowed his brow as he looked at you.

“I remember everything just fine, the dreams, leaving… the torture, even being brought back here. What I don’t remember is why I was tied to this bed and why I still am.”

“We were afraid you’d try to hurt yourself again, and we weren’t sure how the bliss-“ Jacob said.

“Bliss?! You gave me fucking bliss? Are you all insane? Why would you give someone drugs who isn’t even fully conscious?”

“Well… it worked.” John shrugged.

“I’m surrounded by idiots. If I promise not to kill myself will you untie me?”

The men exchanged glances, unsure if it was a good idea or not. You seemed normal, but with everything you’d been through they didn’t know if you could relapse.

“I think for now, you should remain tied to the bed, just to be sure you’re okay.” Joseph finally broke the silence.

“Seriously? Fine. But someone better bring me something to eat, I’m starving.” You didn’t like it, but you had no choice in the matter.

All three men turned and left you so they could find you some food. You tested your restraints again, but it was no use, they had tied them perfectly with no chance of you escaping. They were all relieved you had woken up and beside being annoyed, you seemed fine.

“I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but I’m going to anyways. Just because she’s awake and coherent does not mean she’s back 100%, so… no sex.” Joseph turned to his brothers as soon as they stepped into the kitchen.

“Like, for all of us, or can one of us just-“ John asked.

“None. She has been through insurmountable trauma, no one touches her until we’re certain she’s okay. Agreed?” He looked at his brothers sternly, also knowing he would need to keep an eye on them even if they agreed.

They reluctantly nodded their heads as they made their way to the refrigerator, gathering ingredients for something quick. Joseph returned to you downstairs as they cooked for you.

“My food ready yet?” You asked as he entered the room.

“They’re working on it. I wanted to talk to you about something.” He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t promise they won’t come back, the dreams, if that’s what you want to know.”

“But when I was unconscious, I saw you, I guess you’re my voice of reason, you helped me see that my fate was not tied to my past or my sins, that I could choose another path, so I did.”

“And what path is that?”

“To join the Project, to help in any way I can, except killing. I will do whatever it takes, I still want to atone, and possibly be Baptized again, don’t think the first one took.”

Joseph could see something was different, you didn’t seem to be carrying the weight of your sins anymore, though every other word was still an obscenity, your demeanor had changed, you were genuine in your words.

“I’m glad to hear that, but I wanted to ask your forgiveness, for not recognizing your struggles, for not seeing the way you suffered.”

“In all honesty, I hid it from you, from you all. I didn’t want you to worry about my problems, I assumed I could handle it myself.”

“From now on, you have to tell us everything.” John said as he entered, carrying a plate with half a sandwich on it.

Joseph stood as John sat by you on the bed, carefully feeding you, you wanted to complain, that it was a little demeaning, but he looked so happy feeding you, you decided not to say anything. You finished eating and were full already from that small amount, it had been a while since you’d really eaten anything.

“I’m curious, what did you guys do while I was gone?”

“Well, little Johnny lost it-“ Jacob laughed.

“At least I wasn’t already digging her grave.” John retorted.

“At least someone missed me.”

“We all did, you left a pretty big hole. I don’t think any of us will survive if you do that again.” Joseph still felt bad for how quickly he jumped to thinking the worst about you.

“I’m not planning on it anytime soon. Especially not with a little Seed on the way.” You looked down at your stomach.

You had never seen three men turn that pale that quickly, all of their mouth’s hung open as they stared at you.

“Oh, God, I was just joking, you guys look mortified.” A smile crept across your face.

They collectively released the breath they had each been holding in but were unaware of. None of them were at all prepared for a child, especially not after what they had just been through with you. You had to admit you’d missed them all something awful while you were gone, it was good to be back.

After a bit, Jacob and Joseph left you to get some rest, John didn’t want to leave your side, so he sat against the wall next to your bed, nodding off here and there.

“Will you just get in the bed? You look pitiful.” You could barely see him but still knew he couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m fine.” He replied sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Stop being stubborn and just get up here.”

John stood up and climbed into the bed next to you, he rested his head on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. You were finally able to get some good rest that night, your dreams were no longer plagued by death. You woke up the next morning with your feet and hands untied and the basement door open. You stretched and cracked your neck, your arms were a bit sore and you were still recovering from the torture, with bruises here and there and you were positive you had a cracked rib or two. You slowly made your way upstairs to find all three men waiting patiently for you in the kitchen.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” Joseph greeted you as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Little stiff, sore, but a lot better than I was doing a few days ago. What’s for breakfast?” You winced as you sat on the stool at the counter.

John placed a plate in front of you, “Eggs and toast. Don’t want you eating too much too quickly.”

You wanted to protest, but you had gotten full off the small sandwich last night, best not to push it. You weren’t used to them taking care of you like this, they all watched you as if you were going to shatter into a million pieces at any moment. You were able to finish your eggs and half of the toast. You slid off the stool and headed towards the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Jacob stopped you.

“Um, well, I haven’t had a shower in about 2 weeks, so…”

“No shower, you’ll take a bath, and I’ll help you.” Joseph placed his hand on your back and guided you upstairs.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking a shower, been doing it for a while now.” You stood at the bathtub as he ran the water.

“You’re obviously still in pain, possibly with internal injuries. The last thing you need is to slip and fall. Arms.” He commanded, you knew there was no point in arguing, plus it would be nice not to have to do anything.

You raised your arms quickly but soon realized it was a huge mistake, pain shot across your ribs and you lowered your arms a bit until it subsided. Joseph took notice and carefully lifted your shirt over your head, allowing you to put your arms back down. He helped you undress the rest of the way and held your hand as you stepped into the tub. The water felt perfect as you sunk down into it, you were glad you took a bath instead of a shower. You looked at Joseph who’s eyes were fixed on the bruises and dried blood that covered you.

“I’m fine, they’re just surface wounds.” You tried to reassure him.

“I should have never stopped looking for you, I should have known you were suffering but I was occupied by everything else around me. All of this could have been avoided.” His face pained with his guilt.

You leaned forward and held his face in your hands, staring into his eyes for a moment before pulling him closer and softly pressing your lips to his. You wanted him to know everything was alright, that you didn’t blame him for anything. He wanted to pull back, but he couldn’t, he needed you, he moved forward deepening the kiss, he didn’t realize just how much he missed you.

“I thought you said no sex?” John’s voice heavy with envy.

Joseph pulled away from you as you looked over at John, “If you think that was sex then I have something to tell you. And what do you mean ‘no sex’?”

“Joseph said we can’t have sex with you until you’re better.”

“And who decides when I’m better?” You glanced between the two men, concerned you might actually die from lack of orgasms.

[starry19]

Repose and Respite

AN: Sometimes I just like to write sweet, fluffy Garcy. This is one of those times. 

Repose and Respite

Garcia Flynn was a cuddler.

It was so beyond unexpected that the idea of it had never even crossed her mind before. Even since had begun to see him in a different light. It had been early in their…relationship, for lack of a better word. When they were still on rather opposite sides.

When she knew there was more to him than met the eye.

She had gone from seeing him as the enemy to seeing him as someone in need of salvation. And yes, while she had had the random rogue thought about him romantically - it would have been difficult not to have had thoughts in that direction - it wasn’t until quite recently that she started seriously considering what he would be like as the other half of a couple.

Sweet, as it turned out.

Thoughtful.

Protective.

Supportive.

And, yes, cuddly.

She had come to discover that he liked to sleep wrapped around her, their fingers laced tightly. And that he loved touching her, however innocuously, now that he’d finally come to terms with the idea that she wanted him to. He loved her to touch him, too, though some of the reasons for that rather broke her heart.

It had been a very long time since someone wanted him, and though she was trying to make up for lost time, for long, dark years of solitude, the shadows she sometimes saw in his eyes told her that it was quite possible there would always be a blackness there.

But still, she tried.

Lingering kisses, fingers in his hair. Long conversations in the dark, his warmth surrounding her. Teasing caresses, enough to make him groan or laugh, depending on what she was doing.

He was fascinatingly broken. Less than he used to be, true, but still with visible cracks.

She loved to make him smile, loved to make his eyes light up.

Loved the knowledge that she owned him.

Whatever she had with Wyatt, it didn’t compare to this level of devotion. This level of infatuation. She loved to watch him do anything. Loved how his voice sounded.

At some point, his focus had shifted from undoing the monstrous tragedy that had befallen his family and more about avenging their deaths. She felt guilty about that, knowing that she was probably at least part of the reason why.

But she thought that she was maybe too selfish to give up another man she loved to someone who should have been a ghost.

Bothered by the idea of another heartbreak, she frowned in the darkness, shifting slightly closer to a sleeping Flynn. Though, truly, it would have been difficult to get closer than she already was.

The narrow, army-issued cot wasn’t made for two people, and certainly not when one of them was six and a half feet tall and delightfully broad-chested. Still, she squeezed herself in next to him most nights, the solid wall on one side and the solid man on the other making her feel as close to safe as she thought she was capable of these days.

Still asleep, Flynn’s armed tightened automatically around her. Even unconscious, he could comfort her.

There was a strange form of instinct that defined this second, newer part of her relationship with him. One of them moved or spoke or acted, and the other reacted. They had entire conversations without speaking, just exchanging a look or a brief touch.

The first time they kissed, she had been able to feel him trembling even before their lips had met.

He had hidden his face in her neck after, and she had pretended to not notice that his eyes were wet.

She turned now, studying his features in the dimness, his dark hair tumbling onto his forehead, the lines around his eyes smoothed out while he slept. Unthinking, she brushed her knuckles across one cheekbone, and watched with fascination as his lips turned up slightly.

Abruptly, she came to the conclusion that she had no idea how much she loved him. And love him she did.

It was hard to have any sort of guard or hesitation or instinct regarding self-preservation in the face of such open adoration.

She pushed his hair off of his face, and his eyes opened, sleepy and tender.

“Hey,” he murmured, accent thick. “Everything alright?”

She nodded, smiling as she watched him subtly lean in to the hand she still had on his face. “Sorry I woke you up,” she whispered.

He turned slightly, kissing her palm. She felt worshipped. “It’s no bother,” he told her.

She nuzzled into his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt sliding across her cheek. She loved this, the moments of peace that had found her in the middle of this war. Before, when she was…normal…she had never appreciated the quiet like this.

Flynn shifted, one hand splayed on her back, the other running gently through her hair. She pressed her lips to his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin transferring to her

One of the many perks of being with a large man is the excess of body heat available, and she was more than happy to take advantage of it. For his part, Flynn always seemed delighted to share, as well.

His fingers traced down her spine, softly, softly, softly, and she knew without looking that his eyes were closed again.

She wiggled up, kissed his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his smiling mouth. Then his lips, fighting a grin of her own as his smile faded. She kept her kisses soft, gentle, and he matched her pace, languid and easy, one big hand easing under the hem of her shirt to rest on her lower back.

Goosebumps broke over her bare skin. God, she so loved how this felt. Loved when he treated her with a combination of reverence and lust.

She was very much looking forward to finally making love with him. They hadn’t made it that far, not quite yet. Part of it was her natural hesitancy - with everything that had happened with Wyatt, she was rather gun-shy about falling into bed with someone else. Part of it was him - she knew there was still at least some of him what didn’t believe she could ever want him like that, and he didn’t want to push for fear of losing her.

They had fooled around before, had pushed their boundaries. Once, she’d thought they were going to push those boundaries all the way until they broke. Her shirt had been off, as had his, their mouths fused together, his fingertips sliding over her slick skin, stroking and caressing and making her forget her own name.

She had muffled her moans in his shoulder, nails digging into the sheets, flushing as she shivered around him.

When she managed to open her eyes, he was looking at her with quite the expression.

Part wonder, part male satisfaction.

“You look smug,” she’d told him, winding her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“I feel smug,” he’d admitted, smiling before kissing her gently.

Things had escalated a little more from there, and just as she was delighting in the tense set of his muscles and the catch of his breathing whenever her hands touched him in just the right way, the alarms sounded.

Flynn had sworn.

But had levered himself off of her nonetheless.

They hadn’t quite been back in the same place since.

The mission had been bad, for one, and they had come back in a state of acute exhaustion that had lasted for days.

Still.

She wondered what he would do now if she climbed over him and pulled his hands to her body. Probably whatever she wanted.

He kissed her again, very softly, then slowly pulled back, tucking her against his chest. She listened to his breathing, slightly faster than normal, skin feeling pleasantly warm.

“Sleepy yet?” he asked, his words vibrating in his chest. She knew he was tired, even as she knew he’d stay up with her for the rest of the night if she wanted.

So she snuggled into him, dragged the thin wool blanket over them, and determinedly closed her eyes. “I wonder what it would be like to have a king-sized bed,” she said, thoughtlessly, arm around his waist.

“Pleasant, I imagine,” he murmured, “though you have to admit that there are a few perks with our current situation.”

Like the fact that she had to basically sleep on top of him.

“I concede your point,” she told him. “But still. I’m looking forward to a little more than this.” She held up a corner of the army-issue blanket in illustration.

“Then I hope, for your sake, there are improvements soon.” She knew his eyes were closed.

“And for your sake?” she wondered.

He gave a very shallow shrug. “As long as it’s beside you, I don’t much care about where I sleep.”

It was an honest statement, but a very heavy one. Moved, she quickly blinked back unexpected tears, knowing he would hate to make her cry. Instead, she hugged him fiercely, nose in his chest.

He squeezed her gently.

And she hoped - oh, how she hoped - that she would get to keep him. That these dark forces that they were dealing with wouldn’t take him away. They had taken Wyatt from her, with the resurrection of his wife. She had managed to survive that, Garcia Flynn holding her up when she wanted to shatter.

But she simply didn’t see a way that she would make it through his loss.

However, she sort of figured that the universe owed her some good luck - owed her this man, healthy and whole and wholly hers.

She let him go back to sleep then, praying his dreams were peaceful. They weren’t always. Sometimes, they were edged and red and black and horrors that he couldn't bring himself to talk about. Mostly, she thought they were about Lorena and Iris, though God only knew what he had been through in the years before them.

When he woke from nightmares, cold and trembling, she would hold him, his head to her chest, with some vague idea that if she loved him hard enough she could take away his pain.

It didn’t work like that, she knew it. If it did, she knew he would have taken most of her pain onto himself.

But she did also know - or rather, she had started to know - what her love meant to him. It was…his reason for being. For coming back to humanity, for staying alive in the first place. She was the reason he had done so many, many things.

The only thing he’d had to hold on to was the distant promise that she would be with him eventually. Quite the team.

Yes, they were.

He was her shield. She was his conscience. He was her haven. She was his compass.

Abruptly, she propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. Sound asleep again, a day old beard shadowing his cheeks and chin.

“I love you,” she whispered, almost silently.

Carefully, she lowered herself back to his chest. Perhaps one day soon she would be brave enough to tell him that when he would remember it. It had been a scary thing to admit to herself, scarier even than admitting it to him.

At least with Flynn, she knew what his reaction was likely to be. With herself, she was never sure.

She closed her eyes, focused on the steady rhythm of his heart. It was wildly soothing, and soon she found herself hovering on the edge of sleep.

Through the dozing haze she was in, she felt Flynn move, tilt his head slightly towards her. Felt him draw a breath.

“I love you, too,” he said, and she didn’t know if he thought she was awake or asleep.

It didn’t matter - she couldn’t have opened her eyes again anyway.

And that’s how she fell asleep. Tangled together in a too-small bed with the man that looked at like she was every one of his dreams come true.

What she didn’t realize until later was that she really was.

[kclenhartnovels]

Monsters and Abominations

[Content warning for a lot of gore. Werewolves ahead. Previous ]

For the first time in almost 150 years, the Monster of Morbach was awake.

He stepped over the broken glass, pacing towards the edge of the city filled with sleeping promise. The forests of Germany had been dark and deep, but here the city lights pooled, spreading to erase every corner he may use as his haunt. It was too much like the torches kept burning in hunting lodges, too much like a mimic of the beckoning full moon. He stood under the first pale street lamp he came across, and with a growl the shadows twisted off of his rough fur, curling around the bulb until it sparked and popped. Like a ricochet off a silver bullet, the street lights all down the strip burst, fizzling the road into complete darkness. He looked up the curve of one tall building to his right, and one by one the lights blinked out, arching up all ten floors. The moon hung lower over the city, the blackout rolled, and for the first time in years the stars hung so bright overhead they seemed close enough to touch. The silken stretch of the milky way yawned, car engines died in the middle of the street, cell phones refused to light, all back-up batteries failed, and the city hung suspended in the absolute night.

The Monster of Morbach was ready to hunt.

Gone were the wooden doors and thick-paned windows the monster was used to, gone were the men with swords and silver-tipped arrows, but what remained was the acrid scent of fear. People woke and cowed at the impossible dark, hair prickling at the backs of their necks, instincts long-sleeping jerking to high alert. The darkness brought moonlight and monsters.

The darkness brought howling death.

The pop of the streetlights woke Eve first, startled from restless dreams and sending Prince spilling to the floor with a yowl. She jerked upright, holding her face in one hand and listening to the dull crackle of the electric death rippling down the street. She swore under her breath, flinging off the blankets. What was it this time? A mage losing control of his magic, a demon with a revenge plan, or Michael throwing another temper tantrum?

Or, with the way her feathers prickled, and Prince's tail puffed to twice its normal size, was this something far worse?

She threw on clothes enough to combat the chill of early fall, pausing a long moment in front of her cabinet of weaponry. Not knowing what lay in the yawning dark, she probably should have loaded up, but there was nothing that could do better than her bare palms anyway. She tucked a knife into her belt, slung an oversized coat over her back, and stepped outside.

The air still crackled with anticipation, and here and there down the street she could see others stepping to the threshold, peering out of their door frames but hardly daring to step onto the streets made so unfamiliar by the moonlight. She shut the pawn shop door behind her, the usual neon sign giving no light, and even the little bell above the door refusing to chime.

The air crackled, and smelled of blood.

“Go back inside,” she snapped at a neighbor in passing, walking as briskly as she dared towards where the smell was stronger, where even the moon and starlight didn't seem to reach.

“What is it, Miss Eve?”

“Go back inside!”

The slam of a door promised at least someone listened to her. Tension shot down her back, and she broke into a run within a block. Each ragged breath brought the scent of more blood, blood and old earth, blood and moonlight, blood and iron and the promise of salvation, or the promise of death. It smelled like the monastery in France, both before and after the war leveled it to ruin.

“Emeric.” She stopped outside of a club, absolute blackness beyond its broken door. By the cars in the adjacent lot, the club was packed, but no noise and no music spilled beyond the entrance that now yawned like a toothy mouth. A glowstick, cracked but emitting no light, splattered with blood, rolled out of the doorway, stopping only when it hit the toe of her boot.

“Emeric! Are you in there?” she called, stepping past the threshold at last, wishing she had thought to bring a flashlight at least, though she doubted it would work. The darkness growled absolute, and from somewhere in its swirling domain, she heard movement. Or, rather, she heard the wet slick and crunch of tearing flesh, of bones breaking, of a body being pulled and torn, and she could  only hope based on the quiet that they were already dead. “Emeric!”

“Abomination.” The voice that answered was not her friend, not the hunter, not even the boy that she nursed back to health time and time again. It was the deep guttural growl of a beast, though one that cooed with curiosity. “Abomination, I had been watching you from the shadows for so long. Now, I can finally see you in the flesh.”

She took another step forward, jerking her foot back as soon as it hit something soft and wet. “Let me see you, then. I don't think we've met.”

“Not like this, we have not,” the monster agreed, and the darkness shifted all around them, crawling along Eve's skin like the tickle of spider's legs. One of the lights above them flickered, then slowly faded to half its normal life, offering Eve a dim pool. Directly underneath it she could see no beast, but she could also see no dance floor, nothing but a heap of blood and bodies, so entangled and torn it was impossible to tell where one began and another ended, nothing but a decoration of viscera. Eve felt her stomach in her throat, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, bracing her legs to keep herself as steady as she could.

The beast chuckled, the sound shaking the walls, making the corpses twitch and the shadows twist. She felt the air crackle across her skin, the sensation of spider's legs deepening to the rake of teasing claws, until red lines appeared in parallel marks on her arms. When she held her ground still, the chuckle turned into a huff of approval.

“Emeric always crowed of your bravery,” the monster went on, “but I thought it as exaggerated as his normal beliefs. Belief that he was not really cursed. Belief that he could be saved. Belief that he had killed me.” At last, the darkness parted, and the beast stepped into the light. Once-gray fur was completely coated in red, dripping blood and shadows alike, and despite the claws and the mouth full of teeth and ragged bits of flesh, the wolf appeared relaxed, possibly even amused. “He may have severed the head of Thomas, but the beast will never die. It is an unbreakable curse. Just like yours, Abomination.”

“There is one way to break your curse,” she said quietly, but kept her hands tightly curled into fists, digging her fingers into her palms, threatening to break the skin even past the leather of her gloves.

“There is,” he agreed, almost purring, stepping across the pile of bodies and moving closer to her. Even at a distance he loomed, twice her breadth and at least a foot and a half taller, but he seemed to be hunching, as if he could possibly make himself less intimidating. “But you would also kill your little hunter. Are you prepared to let him go as well, Abomination? After all these years, can you kill him with your bare hands, and lay him to rest in the church beside your other lovers?” He stopped in front of her at last, his hot breath washing over her face, his smile all fangs and darkness.

“Or you could let go. Sleep again.” She tilted her chin as if she could possibly meet his eyes, the yellow heat like a burning sun. “Let me give you the medicine. Let both of you live.”

“Abomination,” the beast crooned, leaning forward to press his muzzle against her neck, breathing in deeply. Her pulse jumped, teeth scraped over her throat, and she did not move, no matter how her hands shook, refusing to uncurl from fists. “Abomination, why do you care so much for the mortals spinning at the edges of your life? You know they all will all die, one day or another. They will all fail you, disappoint you, leave you lonely and aching and wanting for a different life.” His hands cradled her arms, claws tracing over the red marks the shadows had left behind. “There is another way. Let go. Their lives are pitiful, and not worth your pain. Let me take the pain away.” He nosed against her ear, and she felt blood slide down the side of her neck, hot and dark as the swirling shadows that pulsed in closer and closer with each hitching breath. “Come with me.”

Eve lifted her hands at last, burying her fingers into the fur around his ears, her gloves protecting him from inevitable, shrieking death. She pressed her forehead against his bloody muzzle, leaning her weight on him instead of trusting her own legs to support her. “Have Emeric ask me,” she whispered.

The beast huffed a laugh. “Emeric is weak. He is a crying, sniveling little hunter who hides behind crosses. He hides behind you. He is unworthy of the love you give him.”

“Have Emeric ask me,” she repeated, firmer despite the crack in her voice. She tugged at the silky hair at the base of his ears, finding the soft fur not matted with blood. “If he asks me to leave with you, then we shall run far away from here, and you can sate your blood lust on wild creatures. We'll go where the forest is so thick, you'll never need to see the light but for the moon and the stars.”

“The moon, the stars, and your eyes, Abomination. Emeric is unworthy.” The beast smiled again, the click of his fangs still so near to her throat. “I will stalk the forests with you, but those that live near its edge shall know fear. They shall hear my howls and tremble, and they shall see you walk in the sun and think you an angel of death, an omen of doom. Abomination, beloved, I do not ask you to shirk the world. Come live as an eternal queen, watch the mortal lives flicker and fade, and be not troubled.”

“I am troubled.” She rubbed her thumbs against the outer shell of his ear, tugging his head slightly to one side. “Let me speak to Emeric.”

“Abomination,” he growled, “you are tiresome.”

“Stubborn,” she corrected. She could feel the dark slick of blood starting to seep into the leather of her boots. “But I will not go with you without speaking to him.”

His claws bit into her arms, blood welling but not spilling over. “And what if I stole you away like the wives of old?”

“You would be dead long before we were wed.”

The monster laughed, and even the shadows rippled with merriment. “Had you a womb to hold children, I would love to see the beasts of children we would make, Abomination.” His grip on her soothed, and he licked the blood from her neck with a low growl. “So you asked, so you shall receive. Have your words with the hunter, but make them brief. My hunger is not so quickly sated, not after so many years contained.”

“I shall take as many words as I like,” Eve whispered, wishing there was as much conviction in her voice as there was in her fingers, wound tightly into his fur.

For a moment, the lights all returned. The club lit up in a myriad of colors, lights dancing across the corpses that stretched from corner to corner, draped over the bar and tables, parts littered amongst the shattered glass and spilled liquor. From the narrow stage at front, the DJ was quartered across his equipment, headphones still delicately balanced despite missing half of his face. The wolf trembled, and sank into a crouch, pulling Eve down with him. She knelt on the curved spine of a young woman, the exposed bone biting into her knees.

“Eve,” Emeric whispered, his voice thin through the toothy muzzle. “Eve, I can't fight him.”

“Shhh,” she soothed, running her hands up the sides of his face, running her thumb beneath his golden eyes. “Emeric, what can I do to stop him? You have to tell me. I have more of the medicine at home, but I don't know if I can get there without leaving a trail of corpses in our wake. Can you keep him back for awhile? Can you hold him?”

A sob choked the deep chest, and he wrapped his strong arms around Eve's waist. “I can't. He's too strong. Don't let him loose, Eve. Don't go with him. Kill me. Kill him. Please.”

Eve didn't answer; the lights vanished again, and she was left in an ocean of darkness.

The beast lifted her back to her feet, steadying her on their empire of carcasses. “Well?” he crooned, hands on her hips, muzzle pressed to her cheek, as if they were dancing alone in the club, swaying slightly to the sound of the beckoning moonlight. “What did you decide, Abomination?”

Mouth dry, heart pounding, beating, breaking, she pressed her hands against the sides of his face. “I will go with you.”

[n3rdlif343va]

Hey chicka... I got a prompt... *Clears throat* It's the first day of class, Yuuri a junior is terribly late and on top of it all it's raining like a bitch outside. He's standing under an awning waiting for the rain to hopefully let up... He fills a body sidle up next to him... Viktor a senior stands there with an umbrella... They've never talked but maybe Viktor is finally getting the chance to talk to yuuri and possibly walk him to class... I love you're writing amigo...

You are adorable and I LOVE you! This drabble got away from me.. to the tune of 1,800 words. I hope you like it!

VICTOR’S LUCK

The French call it “unecoup de foudre”; a clap of thunder or lightning strike. We call it “Loveat first sight”. The Spirit calls it  ”the meeting of soul mates”. When youare ready to find your one true love will you know him? Will there be somethingabout him that you feel like you have known forever? Or will you disregard thefeeling of “love at first sight” as a joke? The Spirit says there is oneperfect companion for each person. This soul mate has known you beforeand waits for you now. It may have been many lives ago but your souls havestrived to find each other through the years. Finding each other will make youboth complete. –SirCheo

The air was still and stifling as the atmosphere heldits breath, ready to unleash the full power of the dark rain clouds at anymoment. Once tumultuous, the leaves paused in stoic silence, suspended withimpending doom from their equally stagnant branches. The world stood waiting,on the edge of being broken by the predicted downfall, as Victor stepped fromthe front of his rented townhouse. Glancing toward the sky, he hooked hisumbrella in the crook of his elbow, locking his door and skipping down thefront steps.

Rain in the early spring wasn’t a surprise, althoughthe storm that was building over the college campus had all the promises ofbeing far more severe than anything they normally experienced. But Victor had afinal to attend, the second to last in his college career, and he was eager toput literary journalism behind him. 

Humming to himself, Victor moved without thinking overthe familiar paths, letting small memories of the past four years slip throughhis conscious mind. Inadequate attempts at touch football had taken place inthe field to his left. To his right were the trees where he had pretended tostudy for most of his freshman year. In front of him were the academicbuildings, filled with rooms that handed out torture masked as college credits.And a little to the left of those buildings was the place that he had firstlaid eyes on the love of his life.

Brown eyes, scared and darting over the campus like achipmunk waiting to be pounced by a fox, had captivated Victor and led him to avery painful bruise to the temple from a flying hacky sack. The mop of blackhair had stuck out in every direction imaginable, while the blue-rimmed glassessat cockeyed on the boy’s nose. Victor had abandoned his friends in the middleof the football game, accidentally throwing the football directly into Sara’sstomach in his lust-blind haze. He had been a mere ten feet away from hisfuture spouse when another boy had swooped in, all smiles and dark hair anddragged the future love of his life away from Victor’s field of vision.

For three years, Victor had spied the same boy throughoutcampus in the worst game of Where’s Waldo that he had ever played. Over time hehad learned that his obsession’s name was Yuuri Katsuki. He had scrawled it onhis review notes for calculus and throughout the pages of his well-loved copyof The Twelfth Night. It was a beautiful name; foreign and easy to roll histongue around, much like he imagined the boy to be.

Fate had been a fickle mistress though and Victor hadbeen throttled at every turn. Yuuri had zero existence in the social media world,not even creating a campus profile beyond his name and his adorably awkward IDphoto. Victor had screenshotted that photo, sometimes looking at it andimagining their life together. There would be poodles and kisses and romanticdeclarations every second of every day. Yuuri was poetic and romantic, Victorjust knew it.

Although he didn’t actually know it, because no matterwhat he had tried, it had been three years of failed attempts. Yuuri had been astep ahead of him, a step behind him, or on the other side of a sea of people.Just as happened on the first day, there was always someone there, whiskingYuuri away moments before Victor could reach him. It would go down as Victor’sbiggest collegiate regret, taking the top spot over the night he mixed tequila,expired burritos, and rimming.

Shaking his head at his own misfortune, Victorflinched as the first rain drop hit his cheek. Opening his umbrella, hecontinued across the campus as the storm began to unfold.

Yuuri was late, because he was always late for classeshe hated. And Yuuri hated no class more than he hated philosophy 200. Sittingthrough an hour of pretentious students making pretentious observations aboutsomeone else’s pretentious thoughts was surely the work of the devil himself.Jogging down the steps of his apartment building, he threw himself out of theheavy front door. Concerned immediately furrowed his brow as Yuuri looked atthe ominously full clouds hanging with dark threat over his head. There was noway he had time to go back for an umbrella and he said a silent pray for thestorm to wait the ten minutes needed for him to get to class.

Seven minutes letter, Mother Nature delivered him avengeful FU and threw rain down from the heavens in angry buckets. Yuuri dodgedunder the nearest awning, shivering with his arms wrapped tightly over hischest. The sudden downpour brought with it a drop in temperature and Yuuricould feel the cold settling into the core of his bones. Leaning back againstthe Plexiglas, Yuuri watched as the world began to drown, convinced he would haveto ride out the storm from the safety of the small bus stop.

The world was a blur of rushing water as Victor forcedhis feet forward. His cell phone had beeped in his pocket, but he didn’t dareto stop and check it, as the driving rain would easily be the final death ofhis lifeline. Glancing from under the lip of his umbrella, in a desperateattempt to judge the remaining distance to the salvation of the liberal artsbuilding, he spied a familiar flop of dark hair huddled underneath the campusbus stop. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Victor changed his direction. Hisfinal wasn’t for another hour, and fate waited for no man.

It took him a solid two minutes to reach the openingof the sheltered bus stop, his eyes continually surveying the surrounding area.Outside of someone apparating directly in front of Yuuri to steal him away,there was no one around to interfere this time. Victor swallowed hard, slippingunder the cover and into the personal space of the man he had been trying tomeet for three years.

Yuuri’s eyes were closed, breathing through thebuilding anxiety of missing his class. There was no final, but each classdiscussion accumulated the bulk of their grades and Yuuri couldn’t afford tomiss the points he would gain for his well-rehearsed absolutely bullshittalking points. In the fog of his panic, he vaguely noted the temperaturechange inside of his shelter, startling when the presence of a warm body wasclose enough for him to feel heated breath on his ear. Opening his eyes, Yuurifound himself face-to-face with the blue eyes that haunted all of his dreams.Even frizzy with the static of his umbrella, the silver locks looked soft andextremely touchable. The breath caught in Yuuri’s throat as the man he hadsecretly longed for during his entire time at school stood a breathe away fromhim.

A clap of thunder sounded so loudly, they both jumped.Crashing into each other as they spontaneously wrapped together, falling hard againstthe metal beam in the corner of their three-walled shelter. Peering down,Victor stared into Yuuri’s eyes as they remained pressed together. “Hi, I’mVictor,” he breathed the words, feeling the constriction of his heart in hischest. He had imagined this moment in so many ways, none of comparing to theridiculously beautiful accident that had brought Yuuri directly into his arms.

“You’re crushing me!” Yuuri squeaked, feelingdisappointment in himself as Victor startled, relinquishing his hold on Yuuriand standing straight.

“I’m sorry!” Victor blushed, tucking his umbrella intohis elbow again and awkwardly losing all of his words. The Yuuri in hisimagination would have kissed him immediately, instead, this Yuuri was staringat him wide-eyed making Victor convinced that he had blown his one and onlychance.

“It’s ok, it was…” Yuuri flushed bright red, the wordsgetting stuck on his tongue, “it wasn’t bad! I was cold anyway, so…” WhenVictor continued to stare at him, Yuuri stuck out his hand in an offered handshake. “Um… I’m Yuuri. Nice to meet you!” His voice was pitched higher than apre-pubescent boy with his nuts in a vice. Smooth was never a word that hadbeen associated with him, and it looked like that trend was going to continue.

Victor didn’t look at Yuuri’s hand as he slid his tomeet it. His eyes were trained directly on Yuuri’s leaning closer when anotherloud clap of thunder shook the world around them. Victor jumped and promptlyhead-butted Yuuri in the forehead.

Rubbing his head, Yuuri looked up to the blue eyesagain and let the laughter fall. He had practiced meeting Victor in a millionways, none of them involving potential concussions and full-body tackles. Thiswas better than anything he had dreamt up and Yuuri let his laughter minglewith Victor’s, loving the way they harmonized in the sound.

Around them, the storm began to quiet, rolling thundera persistent sound instead of a clapping force. The rain drizzled from the sky,settling to a light pitter patter. Looking out from under the cover, Victoropened his umbrella. “Can I walk you to wherever you are headed, Yuuri?” Heoffered his hand on instinct, not even bothering to question why he thought itwas a good idea.

“Well, I have probably missed class,” Yuuri lethimself be pulled under Victor’s umbrella, feeling the press of Victor’s handagainst his own. It was so much better than he had imagined.

Remembering his phone, Victor passed the umbrella toYuuri’s free hand and retrieved the device from his pocket. The text from his professorto the class told him that class had been cancelled and the final would takeplace in two days. Smiling, he let the phone fall back into his pocket. “Thelights are out in the liberal arts building so no class for me either. Howabout I treat you to a coffee?”

“Coffee would be nice,” Yuuri smiled softly as Victortugged him closer. Their hips bumped together as they started down the path andaway from their shelter. “Victor?” Yuuri waited until Victor hummed inresponse, “is your umbrella covered in poodles?”

“Yes,” Victor smirked, “in case it rains cats anddogs.” They both laughed at Victor’s terrible joke, moving in step with oneanother as they headed over the concrete path.

All around them, the thunder continued to roll.