#i had to stop writing this MULTIPLE times because i kept thrashing around giggling

[nevertheless-moving]

Obikin Crisis AU Part Four

Read Previous Parts HERE

Star Wars AU #18

Obi-Wan made his way to the public training sallies, nodding in polite acknowledgment at the curious stares and double takes he garnered. At this point rumors of their appearance in this timeline had spread throughout at the temple. And while Anakin’s differences from ‘Ani’ were more stark at first glance, Obi-Wan clearly carried himself differently enough from ‘Obi’ that the contrast was obvious to anyone looking for it.

Anakin had waved him to go on ahead, promising to catch up, as he studied the news of all things.

He walked in to find his and Anakin’s ‘counterparts’ locked in a fierce duel. Which was what he was expecting to find, it was why he was there; he had been looking forward to comparing their dueling forms. 

But. 

Something about this just instantly put him on edge. Was it simply the strangeness of seeing himself duel from this angle? No, he had watched holo-recordings of himself before for training- there was... something else off putting about this.

Was, was Anakin showing off? It looked, well, different from how he typically showed off, less unnecessary flips and more...flexibility? Yes, that smirk accompanying the full-body split was definitely smug, but it was also decidedly different from any cocky look his Anakin had directed at him before. It was...weird. And made Obi-Wan a little uncomfortable.

And himself! At first he was mostly focused on the favoring of Ataru over Soresu- it was fascinating, but not entirely surprising. He had switched to the more defensive form in response to his failure to save Qui-Gon and his need to watch over a young padawan. It wasn’t shocking that without that impetus, this version of himself would instead continue to refine his mastery of form IV. He was briefly intrigued at the thought of pitting his form iii against his alternate in combat but was quickly distracted by other- irregularities in the form.

Brief puzzlement fell into recognition which dropped immediately into horror. This- he had to be mistaken. There was no way...

Oh sweet force, that was his most flirtatious fighting stance. And not casually flirtatious, either. That was- oh fuck he did the unnecessary-lightsaber-hold-readjustment with hair flick. He was watching himself do the LIGHTSABER HOLD READJUSTMENT HAIR FLICK COMBO at his padawan. With smile. Not the ‘Charming Negotiator’ smile, but the wouldn’t-you-rather-stop-fighting-and-do-something-more-interesting smirk. Oh gods, now he was doing the full body undressing-with-eyes-up-and-down-lookover. At his PADAWAN.

Fortunately he wasn’t quite close enough to hear what they were saying but judging by Ani’s flushed response it was definitely sexual.

He let out a strangled panicking noise and looked around wildly, expecting someone, anyone to intervene. But if any of the other casual combatants in the room were watching they were either oblivious to the depravity before them, or inured to it. He honestly didn’t know which would be worse. 

He began slowly backing up, unable to look away from the train wreck in front of him. This was- this was worse than that time Qui-Gon got drugged and started rhapsodizing about Master Tahl’s poise, and he hadn’t been able to make eye-contact with either of them for weeks after that! He stumbled out of the room and fell back against a wall, clutching his chest.

Before he could even regain his bearings, Anakin walked up. 

“Are you alright, Master?” He asked somewhat concerned.

Obi-Wan clenched his eyes shut, unable to even look at the innocent boy he had raised and apparently, in this universe, defiled.

“Oh yes, yes, I’m fine, perfectly fine,” Obi-Wan lied. “I was just- thinking about some of the, um, metaphysical implications of travel between universes. Anyway, why don’t we- why don’t we leave the temple for today? See if Dex’s is any better in this universe, what do you say?” 

He forced himself to open his eyes, resolutely staring past Anakin’s shoulder and trying to pretend as though his fundamental understanding of himself as a moral being hadn’t been shaken to the core.

“Um, as great as that sounds, Obi-Wan, we’re not really supposed to leave the temple for casual reasons? And we came to the dueling rings to compare our fighting styles with our selves, remember?” Anakin replied slowly. “Come on, I really want to spar ‘Knight Kenobi.’”

Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s arm, then let go quickly, pulling back as if burnt. “Absolutely Not!” he said in an overly high pitched voice.

“What?” Anakin said grinning. “Is this you really embarrassingly bad at fighting? I knew my prodigy lightsaber skills had rubbed off on you over the years.”

Obi-Wan winced. “Yes, yes that’s it exactly, I’m- I’m absolutely the worst in the reality, no need to go in there. Lets just, ignore Mace and go out in the city, come on now.”

Obi-Wan flapped his arms wildly at the man, unwilling to make unnecessary body contact after being forced to bear witness to...unnecessary body contact. 

Anakin squinted suspiciously. “Ok, I don’t know what exactly you’re so desperate for me not to see, but you do get that I definitely have to see it now.”

Anakin started to stride forward and Obi-Wan threw himself wildly in the way, shoving Anakin back. “Anakin! Don’t ask me to explain why, but please, for the love of the force, do not go in there.” 

Anakin got a gleam in his eye and Obi-Wan’s heart sank, realizing there was more or less nothing he could say at this point that would turn the man back now. 

“Anakin, don’t-” But it was too late, he had already leapt over Obi-Wan’s head and was now darting inside.

Obi-Wan ran after him, feeling ill. 

Anakin managed to make it halfway across the room before skidding to a halt and letting out a strangled squeak. Knowing he was going to regret it, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but follow his gaze. He gasped. Almost incredibly, the combat had gotten even worse in the minutes he had been out of the room. Both of them had inexplicably lost their sabers, and Obi had Ani pinned to the mat face down, arms trapped over ahead.

They were pressed together and panting.

Anakin  turned to his Master, looking frightened. “Obi-Wan, what-” he let out, slightly too loud.

Obi-Wan just threw his robe over his former padawan’s head in response and began dragging him away. “I told you not to look” he whisper-shouted.

At this point, their dramatics had gathered the attention of everyone in the room. Their alternate selves had jumped out and were watching them bewildered. 

“What is-” Obi tried to ask, but Obi-Wan cut him off, hysterical. “You just- you stay away from us!” he shouted. The dopplegangers exchanged a confused glance.

“Obi- uh, Obi-Wan, seriously, what-” the poor harassed twin of his young apprentice tried to ask, but they were already nearly out the door.

“I’M SORRY!” Obi-Wan shouted back. “I’M SO SORRY!”

[ticklishtypings]

Secrets

Summary: Dean likes being tickled, but he has kept it a secret from those around him, until one darn movie scene comes on and makes his angel boyfriend question his spazzy behavior. 

Everyone had secrets. Something they wouldn’t dare share with anyone else, no matter what. Dean had secrets, of course. He liked to be reserved, and keep his business to himself and no one else. And this secret? This was his most kept. He never told a single soul. Not even his angel boyfriend. 

It all came to a head on a Friday night, Cas and Dean had the bunker to themselves while Sam took care of some personal business. They were cuddled up on Dean’s bed watching black and white shows. On the tv screen, laughter could be heard. Dean tensed up a bit, it wasn’t just normal laughter, it was tickle laughter. He was proven right by one glance at the screen, a tickle fight occurring. His cheeks lit up, suddenly feeling Cas’ eyes on him, which they were. He was looking at his boyfriend wondering why he was being so spazzy, but when he looked back at the tv he understood.

“Why do you get flustered when tickling occurs?”  Cas asked, head tilted to the side. 

Dean seemed caught off guard by the question, his eyes widening, “Hey- I don’t.” 

“Then why is your face red, with what would be considered a blush? Are you embarrassed, Dean?” 

“I am not. I- I just thought of something that’s all.” His lies didn’t sound convincing. 

“May I ask something, Dean?” Cas questioned. 

“Go for it.” Maybe the topic would finally change, he hoped as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

“Do you like tickling?” Well shit. 

His demeanor and lack of coherent response seemed to give Cas all the answer he needed.

“What? No- shut up. Stupid question. Of course not. That’s weird.” 

“It is not weird Dean, I can see why you may enjoy it. It is natural to enjoy something that makes you smile.” 

“Never said I enjoyed it..” He retorted. 

“Alright, then I will refrain from tickling you in the future or mentioning it. Since you have shown clear displeasure from the subject.” While his tone was serious, he was just saying it to make Dean admit the truth. 

“Well...no.. whatever, fine. Good.” 

“Why are you so stubborn, Dean?” He had positioned his body to face Dean on the bed now. 

“I am not.” 

“Then admit you like tickling, and that is why you get flustered.” 

“I don’t like it.” 

“If you want to live in denial, I can not stop you. It is your life.” And with that he went back to watching television. He could sense frustration radiating off of Dean as he pondered what he wanted to do next. 

After a few minutes, Dean’s voice softly spoke, “Maybe.” 

“Hm? What was that Dean? Maybe what?” 

“Maybe I do like it..” He refused to make eye contact now, feeling a blush spread across his face like a wildfire.

“Like what?” Cas wanted Dean to say it, to say it out loud and show him nothing bad will happen. 

“I like being tickled.” 

Oh, this wasn’t what Cas expected. Dean didn’t just like tickling, he liked being tickled. 

“Why have you not told me this information before Dean? You know I would never judge you.” Cas said sympathetically. 

“Because. I don’t know..”

“Do you want me to tickle you?” His question was genuine and sincere. 

Dean swore he was going to die from blushing so much. 

“Yes..”

“All you had to do was ask, Dean.” And with that he started to go towards him.

“Wait- wait! Can you uhm..”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Can you maybe use your grace to pin me down?” 

“That would render you defenseless against all tickling and leaving your ticklish spots vulnerable, is that what you want Dean?” 

Dean nodded his head, his stomach fluttering just at the thought. 

“I need a verbal answer Dean.” Cas smiled at Dean’s squirmy reaction. 

“Yes. I want you to tickle me mercilessly.” He could feel the angel’s grace pinning him, excitement rushed through him.

“Where do I start though, that is the real question.” 

“Cas! C’mon don’t be an ass.” Dean whined, he just wanted to be tickled already!

Cas smiled at his boyfriend’s impatience, before lifting up his shirt just barely above his ribs. Then, he lowered Dean’s sweatpants to where his hips were fully exposed. He felt Dean squirming much more now, and gave the hunter a curious look. 

“How- how did you even-?” 

“Know that this was your most ticklish spot? Dean, you seem to be forgetful to the fact that I rebuilt your body. I know all of your body’s quirks, which means I know exactly where you are ticklish.”  

With that, Cas began the attack his boyfriend has so patiently been waiting for. Starting with his tummy, gently scribbling close to his belly button, causing soft giggles to pour out of the mans mouth. 

“Cahahhas!” Cas couldn’t help but smile at his lovers pure laugh. 

“Do you like this Dean? The unbearable feeling? Knowing you are helpless at the mercy of me?” As he said this, he moved his fingers higher up to his ribs, carefully massaging between them every now and then. 

“DOHOHON’T BEHEHE MEHEHEAN!” He giggled out, a few snorts escaping as well. 

“How am I being mean? You are the one who likes this.” He noted Dean’s laughter jump as a result of his teasing. 

This was ticklish hell, all he could do was lay there and take it, because of Cas’ grace. He loved every second though, he couldn’t believe it was finally happening. 

Suddenly though, Cas stopped. Dean lifted his head up curiously as to why the tickling stopped. When Dean looked up he was met with a smiling angel straddling his thighs. 

“Ask me Dean.” 

“What? What do you mean Cas?” He gulped, Cas sure was evil with these teases.

“Ask me to tickle you.” 

“I- I can’t do that.” His face began to burn once more tonight. 

Cas cocked his head to the side with a familiar smirk, “Why is that, Dean? Is it because you can not say the word tickle?” 

Oh the amusement he got from teasing the hunter. 

“Yes! Okay? Yes! I can’t say the stupid friggin’ word.” He huffed. 

“Oh, Dean,” He began to be a bit sympathetic, “Here, I will make it easier, where do you want me to tickle you?”

This game was rigged! It was the same equivalent of flusteredness! 

Hesitantly, Dean responded shyly, “My hips..” 

“Dean, are you sure? That is your most ticklish spot.” Dean just nodded, and prepared himself for the following. 

Cas wasted no time tickling Deans hips. Tickling with light strokes and scratches, occasionally drilling his thumbs into the sensitive skin. Dean exploded with laughter, his back arched but it only made it tickle worse. 

“I CAHAHAH” He felt like electricity was flowing through his entire body, as if Cas was tickling in multiple spots at once! 

“Does this tickle, Dean?” Cas taunted, lovingly. 

“YEHEHEHEHES!” He thrashed as much as he could, tears of mirth forming. 

“Do you need a break, Dean?” Cas asked, knowing how sensitive the spot was. 

“Just..just a minute.” He said between gasps of air. A smile was plastered to his face, he hadn’t felt this carefree in years. For once there was not a worry in his head. 

“Shall I continue?” Cas gestured to his hips once more. but Dean shook his head. That was fun, but he doesn’t think he can handle anymore hip tickles tonight. 

“Something less...intense?” He looked up at Cas with a bit of a pleading look, Cas nodded and scooted off his thighs and began evaluating potential spots. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Well how could I have overlooked this incredibly common ticklish spot?” He teased as he walked his fingers up Dean’s ribcage, stopping just below his underarm. 

Dean already began giggling, knowing exactly what spot he meant. 

“Now Dean, this is going to tickle. A lot.” While Dean shut his eyes tight and was expecting him to dig in after finishing his sentence, he didn’t. Cas waited, until Dean opened his eyes to see why Cas wasn’t tickling, to strike, tenderly digging at his underarms. 

“WOAHAHA WHAT THE FUHUHUHUHUCK!” While the touch was soft, the sudden surprise attack seemed to make it tickle more. 

“Did you really think it was going to be that simplistic, Dean? I know how to have fun too.” Cas smirked, Dean really was cute sometimes. 

Dean’s laughter soon turned into silent laughter, tears of mirth forming in the corner of his eyes. He gripped Cas’ forearms, but made no real attempt to stop the tickling. 

Cas slowly brought his hands to a still, rubbing the tickly feelings away, leaving Dean giggling. He removed the grace holding him, allowing him to curl up and protect his sensitive spots. 

“Thahaht...that..” He gently gasped for air. 

“Tickled?” Cas finished. 

“Mmm, only a little bit.” 

“Really Dean? Maybe next time I should use my feathers.” That caused a flustered squeak out of the hunter, who blushed into his pillow. 

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me, Dean.” Cas spoke sincerely. 

“Thank you for not laughing at me..”

“I would never. I think it is adorable.” Cas stated, running a finger up the sole of his boyfriend. 

“Do you think we can do this again, Cas?” There was a hint of desperateness in his tone. 

“Of course, Dean. I enjoyed tickling you.” 

a/n: i miss writing so much, maybe i should make this a lil series hehe~

[cyoza]

drunk in love

*spongebob voice* 10 years later

I know I said I would do this ages ago and I’m sorry I have been p burnt out with my writing so I didn’t wanna like force it but I’ve managed to find some inspo and get down to it 

I have read through it but I’ve had two glasses of wine and I am ill so if I’ve made any mistakes I apologise 

thanks for reading in advance and i hope its a good read! 

- The last thing Naomi expected as she stood pouring herself a cup of coffee was the heavy weight of Jim’s head as he collapsed his head on her shoulder nor was she ready for the assault of vodka that invaded her nostrils. She automatically pulled her head away to escape the aroma but Jim merely followed, bristling his cheek against hers as he wound his arms around her. She let out a soft chuckle as she gave in and placed her arms on top of his, ignoring the vodka scent and leaning into him before breaking the silence. 

‘Hello.’ She greeted simply. 

He responded by pulling her closer and pressing a sloppy kiss under her jaw, earning another giggle from her. 

‘Have a good time?’ She queried, the humour evident in her tone. 

He let out a wistful hum of assent as his head sank heavier on her shoulder to the point where she could no longer hold it there. So she turned in his arms and was met with an utterly heart melting sight. It was a rare occasion where she got to see Jim relaxed or anything but tense, even in his sleep he would frequently thrash and toss with nightmares. Yet here he was, dazed and blithe with a full smile that never appeared anymore. It was impossible to hold back her own smile as she stared at him, pleased that Amos and Alex had finally got him to let his hair down. 

‘I missed you.’ His words slurred as he spoke them but it was the pout that accompanied them that caused a bubble of laughter to build in her stomach. 

‘Did you?’ She lifted her arms to land on his shoulders. ‘Well I’m sure you had fun anyway.’

‘It would have been more fun with you there.’ He complained, pulling her flush against him as he pressed a lazy kiss on her lips. 

She melted into him for a second, as she always did when he kissed her. But in his attempt to deepen the kiss and slide his hands past her waist, she was reminded that Jim was in fact drunk and this was not the place for PDA. 

‘Jim, not here.’ She protested, pulling away from the kiss but keeping his arms around him. 

‘Why not?’  He asked, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss on her cheek. 

‘I don’t particularly want Amos or Alex stumbling in here and catching us in a compromising position.’ She pointed out. 

‘Who cares? I’m all about compromising positions.’ He purred, placing his lips at a particularly electrifying spot behind her ear and stupefying her for a second. But she couldn’t be distracted right now. 

‘And that brings me on to point number two: you’re drunk right now. All you need is a large glass of water and a bed.’ She rolled her eyes when Jim moved back and gave her a knowing grin. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘When did you get so boring, Nagata?’ He goaded, lips slanting into an impish smile. 

Naomi shook her head and ignored his childish attitude. She stepped back, sliding her hands down his arms to grip his own and saying nothing further as she dragged him through the ship, having to stop and shush him multiple times when he bumped into various railings along the way. It felt akin to leading a toddler back to sleep after they’d woken up in the middle of the night. She felt a gut punch of bittersweet emotion as nostalgic feeling set in her gut from. But she pushed the feeling back down to the depths it rose from and pulled him through the door of their cabin. She placed him against the cabin wall and turned to shut it behind them.

‘Are you going to take me to bed now, Naomi?’ He enquired cheekily. 

The eye roll that followed after his question was almost reflexive at this point but again she kept quiet so as to not indulge him and instead pulled him from the wall and removed his t shirt. 

Or at least she tried to. 

It seemed as though vodka flipped a switch in Jim where he was no longer the stoic, responsible Captain they knew him as but rather a stubborn teen. Getting him to just lift his arms so she could take off his shirt was a mission she wasn’t prepared for. But it wasn’t too long before she had him in his boxers and under the covers. She quickly stripped off and lay next to him, sweeping his hair back from his face. Thankfully, by the time his head hit the pillow, he calmed down some and his eyelids drooped heavier than they did before. He, however, wasn’t ready to sleep apparently. 

‘I love you.’ He stated, stroking a tired arm down her spine. 

‘I know.’

‘You know?’ He mimicked pointedly. 

‘I love you.’ She echoed. ‘Of course I do.’ 

‘I know. But it’s nice to be reminded.’ His voice was clouded with sleep and alcohol but still he continued to speak. ‘Actually, I don’t think I say it enough. I’m so grateful to have come into your orbit, Naomi. You have taught me so much about myself. It hasn’t always been necessarily good between us but I don’t think I would ever change it. Maybe just more of the time we lost. But now we’re here and we’ve been through so much together and I don’t think I could have done it without you.’ 

Naomi felt her heart clench with warmth as he continued talking, her eyes filling with unexpected tears. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear this; especially when he was in such a vulnerable state. 

‘Jim..’ She whispered hesitantly. 

‘No, shush. Let me finish.’ He placed a clumsy finger on her lips, stopping her from talking and drawing a breathless chuckle. 

‘Ok, sorry. Go ahead.’ She relented tearfully. 

‘You ground me. You are the glue that keeps this ship - this family - together. I don’t know where we would be without you. And outside of us you’re the smartest person I know, you’re logical and powerful and so so sexy. But more than anything you’re passionate and it’s always stuff that you care so deeply about. I’m so grateful for you, Naomi.’ 

By the time he had finished speaking, Naomi’s cheeks were wet. She couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so open with his feelings for her. The only time coming close in the controls room after she said she’d loved him for the first time. But this time it was unprompted and completely sucker punched her. 

‘I’m grateful for you, too Jim. I love you. So much.’ She professed, voice thick and shaky. ‘I would say more but I doubt you’ll remember it in the morning. How are you so eloquent when you’re so drunk?’ 

Jim simply responded with a mumble that resembled something the lines with ‘I don’t know’ but the snores that followed immediately after made it clear that he was in no position to elaborate. She stared at him lovingly even as he snored, feeling luckier than she had in a long time to be in the position that she was in despite all they had to deal with. She gazed at him for a moment longer before placing her head on his bicep, feeling content as she drifted away to sleep. 

-

Jim’s eyes flickered open but he felt disoriented as he did so. His mouth felt like someone had rubbed sand in it whilst he was asleep and his brain felt like it was trying to escape his skull. Then pieces of the night before flooded into his mind. 

Drinking with Alex and Amos. Rounds of Karaoke. A LOT of vodka. 

He lifted his head and felt his sins rise up from the depths of hell known as his stomach. He couldn't remember a time when he felt worse after a night of drinking and couldn’t remember a time when he’d regretted it more. His attention was drawn to the movement next to him and he realised that it was Naomi. Did he go out with Naomi too? He didn’t remember her being there. 

‘Good morning.’ She said smugly. 

But her voice was amplified even in the small room. 

‘Ugh, less volume thank you.’ He pleaded. ‘What happened?’ 

‘You got very drunk on vodka with Alex and Amos.’ She explained, eyes light with amusement. 

‘God no wonder I feel so awful. Why do you seem okay?’ 

‘Because I didn’t drink. But I’m glad you drank as much as you did,’ She admitted mysteriously. 

‘What do you mean by that?’ He asked, trying to rub the throbbing in his head. 

‘You mean you don’t remember giving Alex a lapdance?’ She questioned incredulously. 

Jim stilled. 

‘I did what?!’ 

‘Just kidding!’

Naomi gave him a wide, joking smile and even through his crippling hangover and rippling irritation, he still found her utterly captivating. So he matched her lighthearted energy. 

‘You’re insufferable.’ He told her. 

‘Yeah but you love me.’

‘Yes, I do.’

[queercode-my-minecraft]

(One) Shot Through the Heart

Notes: Hi! I know you’re probably wondering what the hell is this, well, its clearly a one shot! Anyway, bad jokes aside, this story is a fanfiction based on a fanfiction. The fanfiction in question is Parallels from the absoloutly amazing writer @darknightvirgil. So, give that a good read before coming and reading this, or you can only read this, but you’re gonna be probably very confused

Characters: Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, disembodied voice

Relationships: romantic! Logince, mentioned platonic! Analogical and platonic! Analogince 

Warnings: Swearwords, overthinking, if any arise please tell me

Words: 1863

Roman wasn’t talking to him.

Which, for Logan’s logical side, was absolutely understandable. He had, in fact, kept his identity secret until it had been too late. However, there was another side in Logan (who wouldn’t shut up) that wouldn’t stop nagging Logan to do something, anything to gain Roman’s trust back.

It didn’t matter how much that small annoying voice irritated him, Logan knew that just by doing a simple action he wouldn’t be able to gain Roman’s heart trust. He had morals, for starters, and not one simple action could show how much he meant to Logan. He deserved so much more than a lying, robotic like him.

Rubbing his eyes exhausted, Logan came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to complete his homework, or at least; he wouldn’t be able to complete it until he could come to a final decision.

His hand immediately went searching for his phone on the table, hoping for some distraction. Although, when he opened his phone he began absentmindedly scrolling through his photos.

Usually, when distressing emotions obscured his mind, he would read through Roman’s fanfictions, as they often affected his mood in a positive way. He would never admit to Roman that he would bounce and at times giggle when reading his stories. But seeing his current state, he would probably zone out and fall in a spiral of self-deprecating thoughts.

Gazing at the numerous photos (most of them where Virgil or Roman’s sneaky selfies, because apparently their phone’s don’t have that much memory) a particular selfie caught his eye.

Roman was smiling cheekily, the sunlight that filtered made the boy look like an angel come right from heaven, and on top of his nose stood his own glasses. Slightly crooked, but it helped to make Roman look gorgeous.

He remembered clearly the day Roman had taken the photo.

It had been a rare sunny afternoon.

The teacher was droning on and on about their subject, their constant voice driving most students to slumber.

Logan, though, was fighting the drowsiness, in a futile attempt to remain focused on the lesson. Roman, too, was fighting the drowsiness to continue writing his fanfic (he told Logan it was a random story he was writing, however, Logan was quite certain that he was writing the next chapter of his current project) that was slowly writing itself.

His method was loud and annoying (and was in Logan’s personal space, which he weirdly didn’t mind much). Although, Logan could hardly remain mad at Roman.

After being called out by the teacher for the fourth time that day, Logan had moved his focus from Roman and his whispered jokes to his notes. Slowly zoning out and thinking about how-knows-what (probably Roman, who he was ignoring in that precise moment).

Roman clearly tired of getting ignored by Logan had a spark of an idea and, with a fluid movement, he took Logan’s glasses and placed on the bridge of his own nose.

“Roman!” Whispered through clenched Logan.

“Where- I mean, what exactly are you doing?” Asked Logan, squinting suspiciously at what he guessed being Roman’s hazy figure.

“Don’t worry hon! I’ll give them right back!”

Logan’s face flushed at Roman’s words. That’s presumably when Roman took the selfie.

Roman gave back the glasses to its owner and when he smiled Logan would have thought he had just seen the most beautiful angel.

He had to refrain himself from leaning and kissing Roman.

“Thanks… for… uhm, giving, me, my… glasses… back.” Mumbled Logan, and although he had his glasses on he looked at everything but Roman, who chuckled lightly.

“No problem… Lo”

If Logan would have turned his head to look at Roman, he would have seen the blush quickly spreading on the others cheeks (and not only on Roman’s).

A bittersweet smile appeared on Logan’s lips and with an impulsive decision, fueled by the memories, he opened his chat with Roman and tapped on the keyboard:

Logan.exe: Coming to you in ten minutes.

Logan.exe: I must apologize properly, face to face.

Roman was on his bed, face planted in his cushion.

He felt like crying his heart, scream against Logan who he thought was his friend - if not more - and just stabbed him in the back. He had known he was passing a bad moment, he had told him and what had Logan done?

Nothing.

That’s not true. Whispered a tiny voice in his mind. He tried, you know him, and he probably saw you fall before him, terrified of hurting your feelings.

The voice was confident of what it told Roman, but he couldn’t feel like those words told the truth.

He was pulled away from his thoughts when his phone received a message. Another one.

Peeping from the cushion his head was buried in he looked at his phone on the bedside table. Who would write to him? Maybe the guys on Discord?

He took his phone in his hands and he stared in disbelief at the messages before him. Logan was coming.

He wished he would have screamed and thrashed in anger knowing that Logan would come, or that he would stay for the next ten minutes before the mirror. Alas, all he did was stare at the message, no words in his mind and no words on his lips.

And then, the tiny voice returned, with more insistence this time. Look! He’s trying, give him a shot, to redeem himself if you want. But, he’s going to explain himself!

Groggily he got up from his bed, and watched his telephone. Questions devouring his mind.

What were they gonna talk about? Knowing Logan, he would probably arrive with a step by step list of all the reasons he acted so careless and would explain the whole thing detached, as if he were explaining a PowerPoint. Or worse, he would come with a perfect PowerPoint he had put together if the necessity arised.

Roman smiled tiredly, they were in quite the situation. Weren’t they?

Logan was fucked.

He had taken the quickest routes he had known, rushing and forgetting about everything. And when he had approached Roman’s house everything came rushing back and Logan found himself staring at the door asking himself the reason of why he was even trying. Surely Roman wouldn’t want to listen to a word he said, he was after all a chatterbox when he didn’t have a list or a script of some kind.

He rang the bell and soon after Roman in person came to open the door. Logan couldn’t decipher what Roman was thinking about, but looking at him it was clear that he wasn’t in a great place himself.

“Why?”

Roman asked quietly, masking any emotions and displaying an unusual calm façade. Logan blinked, processing the word.

“Why are you here, Logan? Why have you decided that you wanted to help me now, why not before? You know that I- I feel out of place and you did nothing… until now. Why?”

Roman’s cool demeanour got replaced with boiling rage as quickly as a blink of an eye. Logan took a sharp breath, his mind empty. He had hurt him. He had hurt Roman. He had…

“Roman, close the door! Air is getting inside… oh and bring your friend inside, it’s freezing outside!”

Came a boisterous voice from the second floor of the house. And Logan had to refrain himself from correcting the voice: outside there was a mere breeze and the temperature was surely not cold enough to freeze water.

Begrudgingly Roman let Logan inside, closing the door loudly after the two and sitting on the sofa glaring.

“So?”

Logan took a shaky breath, starting to walk nervously around the room.

“So, I’m not good at this. If Patton were here he would have known what to say, not even! We wouldn’t even be in this situation. Anyway, Virgil told me I had to tell you I read your fanfictions, your mesmerizing stories which I wholeheartedly love, but… but I never told him what you told me. Does that make sense?”

He shook his head, terrified that if he glanced at Roman the other would scream of how a little bitch he was. ”And I… I probably should have listened, however I was terrified of messing everything up because you’re so incredible as Ramon, and as Roman you’re equally marvelous! And if I messed that up… I’d lose a friend.”

Logan dared glancing at Roman. Sat on the couch, the oversized red sweater tight against his body and on the verge of tears.

As fast as his body would let him, Logan was next to Roman, his arms open. Roman flung himself in his arms, silently sobbing in his shirt as Logan tried to sooth him by rubbing circles on his back.

“I wish I had done something, anything. But, I was too afraid and my actions will remain one of my deepest regrets, especially because you have suffered enormously for it. And I love you too much to watch as you suffer.”

His last sentence was barely a whisper, and as Roman tightened his grip and his sobs became dimer he wished the other hadn’t heard.

They passed what seemed like hours hugging each other, both too overwhelmed and afraid of loosening the grip on the other. Not that both would argue with their current state, especially Logan who had a perfect view of Roman’s gorgeous face.

“I just wanted a friend. Or multiple friends, doesn’t really matter. I just wanted someone that cared about me enough to be supportive.”

Mumbled Roman, glancing up and making eye contact with Logan, who raised an eyebrow and tried not to blush.

“You thought- you thought that I- we, Virgil and I weren’t supportive of you?”

Roman chuckled, though Logan couldn’t tell if it was for nervousness or for true hilarity.

“You are the best at support, I believe I have screenshots of all your comments on my phone… you know, for bad days.”

It was Logan’s time to chuckle at the statement, under Roman’s curious gaze. He hadn’t thought someone so brilliant would screenshot his comments, especially to feel better.

“I don’t have all your stories screenshotted on my phone, no, my photo gallery is too full of selfie. Nevertheless, I do read them often, specifically if I feel not-like-my-usual-self. I have found them quite… therapeutic.”

A deep red blush sneaked on Roman’s cheeks and he buried his face into Logan, mumbling an incoherent stream of words, but one thing Logan heard, quite clearly was: “I love you, Lo.”

Not knowing the context in which it was said, Logan, didn’t let his hopes and dreams soar. He had just seemingly resolved their fight, it was too early to start thinking about a possible romantic relationship with Roman. Besides, he didn’t even know if Roman harbored the same emotions!

Logan closed his eyes.

It didn’t matter if they were just friends, or if they were more. What truly mattered to Logan in that moment was Roman, and he looked peaceful as he snuggled closer to Logan, forcing him to lie on the couch.

“Love you too, Ro.”