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kamisatoqiqi · 1 month

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Heated dispute, solved by the cause.

14+

You and Rin got into a heated argument that caused you to leave, and somehow end up in Sae’s house? CONTAINS: angst, slight force/aggression, swearing Pairing: Itoshi Rin x Reader FT. Itoshi Sae

WORD COUNT: 1708 CHARACTER COUNT: 7304

Rin has been rather busy with his Soccer career. This wasn’t exactly new to you as this has happened a lot in the past, it’s just that you can’t shake off the feeling of something being wrong or out of character. You see, Rin always manages to “give” you what you want despite his busy schedule. A hug? Sure. A quick peck on the cheek? Why not? A quickie? Of course. But suddenly, he hasn’t been able to even hold a proper conversation with you or just give small replies.

Y/N: “Hey Rinnie? What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

*No response*

Y/N: “Rinnie??”

Rin: “Huh? Oh, just whatever.”

Y/N: “Alright then, and how was your practice match thi—”

Rin: “I'm heading out.”

Y/N: “Out? To where? Isn’t it a little late?”

Rin: “It’ll be quick..”

Y/N: “Okay, be car—” Rin shuts the door behind him. You won’t lie to yourself it did sting a little and struck a small nerve. He isn’t usually like this. The only time you can remember he did something similar was when you went out with friends and came home at nearly dawn. Not to mention, some of them being males. Around 3-4 along with 2 females, excluding you. (He found out through your friend’s story) However you failed to mention this to Rin as you were running late to your agreed time. So of course, when you came home, reeking of alcohol, at ungodly hours. See your supposed stoic boyfriend, frowning, phone in hand. You’d be scared. Thankfully though only one word left his tired mouth; “Bed.” And that’s when the morning then came and you tried to apologise yet your dear boyfriend brushed you off. Of course it didn't last long. It had been months since this incident and hasn’t happened since. Though to your surprise. It happened. Lasting longer too. It used to be days. However it turned into weeks.

Y/N: “Rin? Dear?” *wraps my arms around his neck from behind, whilst he sits on the couch*

Y/N: “Is something wrong?”

Rin: “No, nothing.” Y/N: “Then how come, you’ve been colder to me?” Rin: “It’s nothing.” Y/N: “Are you sure, baby? Maybe I did something wrong?”

Rin: “Y/N, I told you it’s nothing.” Y/N: “Are you really sure? I can hel—” Rin: “God will you ever shut the fuck up?!” *I let go of him and stand back, letting out a gasp* Y/N: “What?...”

Rin: “All you do is fucking talk and talk and talk! I'm SICK of your stupid voice!”

Y/N: “What do you mean?? You literally have to be lulled to sleep by it..!”

Rin: “Well not anymore! I’m tired of you continuously bothering me. Being a literal pest. I’m so fucking done.”

Y/N: “D-done..?” *Thousands if not millions of thoughts ran through my mind. Every single reply and outcome I could think of coming in. “You want to break up?” “But I just want to take care of you” “I’m giving you the love you deserve and you say I’m a bother?” “Are we gonna end like this?” “Fuck you.” “Is it really my fault?” “Fuck..I—

Y/N: “I'm leaving.”

*Rin suddenly stands up* Rin: “What?” Y/N: “I said I’m leaving. Y-you said I’m a bother, a fucking pest to you, then since I love you so fucking much, I’ll leave and give you the space you want.” *Rin froze. He stood there, staring me dead in the eye.*

Rin: “Fine then. Fucking leave.” *What the fuck..? Did I just say that? N-no.. I-I don’t mean it.. That’s not what I was meant to say..!”

*I started to clench my fist and scurry towards our shared room, shouting:* Y/N: “Fine!” *I packed my bag, tears falling out of my eyes. He….really said that to me? He meant it. He fucking did. Shit. Are we going to break up? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fu— phone notification— Instagram: itoshisae_ added to their story —

Doorbell rings

Sae: “Oh shit, Y/N. Come inside” *hands you a towel*

Sae: deep sigh “Let me guess? Rin?”

*I nod, drying my hair. And slowly tearing up* Y/N: “Yeah… He— We, got quite heated, during a small talk”

Sae: “Doesn’t seem to be that small for you to leave without an umbrella during a storm, huh?”

You just smile and look down on the tile flooring. Watching the drops fall down from your hair, creating a small puddle. Then feeling your cheeks get rolled on by tears, the aching feeling in your chest worsening by the second.

Sae: “Come on, tell me what happened. I mean, why would you think of coming to my house out of all places?”

Y/N: “Well—...” *I end up explaining to Sae what happened, and the events of the past weeks. He just kept nodding and nodding and when I finished, He just said:*

Sae: “I might be a part of the problem”

Y/N: “No, I already know you are. N-no offense... You’ve been part of something else since the beginning of our relationship, and it never gets us to this point.”

Sae: “No no, I mean the “current” problem”

Y/N: “Huh?” Sae: “Well, since about a few weeks ago, I was invited to Blue Lock to train the supposed “future of Japan Soccer”. However, during the practice match, Rin’s team didn’t win against mine. And I don’t know exactly what triggered him but he suddenly came and held me by my shirt. I told him to quit soccer if he doesn’t plan on improving even one bit and brushed off his hand.”

Y/N: “What? Seriously..? I-I mean I know you both aren’t on great terms and all, but did you really have to say that??”

Sae: “Rin isn’t the type to “just” start. He needs a concrete reason for it. And the fact that I told him such, probably could be part of your current argument. Though in all honesty, I just want him to improve even more. A little push as his older brother.”

Y/N: “I guess…B-but did it have to be that harsh? You technically pointed out that certain things, such as that could potentially trigger him…”

Sae: “Like I said, a little push for him.”

Y/N: “Then that wouldn’t make any sense. Why did it get so bad? Over something that he mostly opens up to me about. Like I know he wants to have, and he does have, that “strong” persona and all but… Still I-...” sigh

Sae: “I’m not too sure about this, though I think I need to ask you about it,”

Y/N: “What is it?”

Sae: “Before all this and the past years you’ve been together, whenever he opens up to you. Is it a lot? Does he start feeling vulnerable and sensitive?”

Y/N: “Yeah, he does.”

Sae: “When was the last time he opened up?”

Y/N: “A little while back, actually, just before he started being cold.”

Sae: “Ah, there it is. I think Rin might be going through a lot again. And since he talks to you a lot about these sensitive topics, he probably thinks you’re—”

Y/N: “Tired of him? N-no, no never…”

Sae: “There, at least you understand now.”

Y/N: “And I’m guessing his way of coping is, ignoring and lashing out on me… Huh.”

Sae: “Exactly… Now, you should probably get ready for bed. I have a spare room upstairs a door after mine, talk to Rin in th—”

The door bursts open. Rin stands there, drenched in rain. Clutching the door, his eyes looking red. But you can’t really tell if it’s from the rain entering his eyeballs or he has been crying.

Y/N: “R-Rin?”

Rin: “What the fuck are you doing here.” *my voice both raised and husky*

Y/N: “I came to see—” *He cuts me off.*

Rin: “Sae? chuckles SAE!? You know how much I fucking hate him and yet I find out you look for him whenever we have an argument?!”

Y/N: “This is the first time! And besides where the fuck do you expect me to go during a storm? Everyone lives farther off in the city or in the suburbs and I can’t really show up at a hotel looking like this now can I?! What!? You would rather have found me dead instead of alive and staying at your brother’s place?” *Rin pauses and takes heavy breaths. Before he took my arm and held it up.*

Rin: “You’re coming with me.”

Y/N: “No!” *I took his hand off my arm.*

Y/N: “Not until you calm down.” *Rin doesn’t respond and just stares at me. With eyes fuel of negativity. Anger, jealousy, and deep sorrow. However if anyone can look directly at his soul, it would be me. And despite his showing anger, glowed with relief. So much that I just hugged him, ignoring his brother.”

Sae: “Alright now, both of you get ready for bed. I’ll set up your room… For two. Calm down and settle your little fight in the morning.”

Y/N: “Yeah yeah, sure… Thanks, Sae.” *Sae just nodded and proceeded upstairs, leaving me and Rin alone.*

Y/N: “Look I’m sorry I left, okay? I’m really sorry, I should have understood and approached you better.”

Rin: “N-no, no no no don’t apologise. Please. I-I should be saying sorry. I l-let my emotions get the better of me and bursted out on you. You were just trying to help me. Like always.. D-don’t leave me….Ever again… Please.” *I smiled and managed to distinguish his tear falling onto my cheek from the water. He hugged me and held me close, showing no sign of letting go.* Y/N: “C’mon, let’s get ready for bed, okay?”

Rin: nods “Okay…”

Morning shine appeared on the bed you both slept on from the large window. Its beaming rays lit up the room, and shone on your beloved boyfriend. Causing you to chuckle, as you finally confirm the cause of his eyes’ redness.

#Kamisatoqiqi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae #blue lock #fandom ships #angst #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #x fem!reader #x male reader #m4f #M4M #m4a

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pinkcoffeecup · 1 year

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three doors down, part three

part 3, the nickname

story summary: In which Spencer’s terrible cooking skills almost burns down a building, but also gives him a chance to get to know the girl who lives three doors down.

masterlist

word count: 2,491

Spencer was exhausted. When the clock struck 4 am, Y/n ushered Spencer out of her apartment and into his own, telling him how important sleep was, and how crime would skyrocket unless Spencer got a couple of hours of sleep at the very least. She had apologised for keeping him up, and despite his polite reassurance that she in fact was not to blame for his sleep schedule, Y/n could not help but feel bad.

When he stepped out of his apartment that morning, he was once more met by Y/n as she came back from her morning run. Spencer had already established her loyalty to the various routines that her days consisted of, but he couldn’t help but be shocked by her standing in the hallway. “Oh, good morning,” She breathed, still somewhat out of her breath.

“Good morning Y/n,” Spencer greeted. “I can’t believe you went on a run after only three hours of sleep,”

Y/n let out a laugh and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at how carefree she seemed. There was something about her, and just being around her gave him a burst of energy, like he could concur the world. “I always go for runs in the mornings! I can’t let a little lack of sleep stop me,” She laughed, “I’m no baby, Dr Reid,”

“We could use a little of that mentality in the FBI,” Spencer joked, “I swear, the annual fitness tests we have are un-passable, Morgan has to be the only one who still manages,”

She raised her eyebrows at the supposedly “impossible” fitness test, secretly curious if she could ever pass it. “How hard can it be?” Y/n challenged, “I mean, if this Morgan guy can do it, it’s not impossible,”

“As I said, we could use that mentality in the FBI,” He repeated, “Derek Morgan is no average Joe, he’s absolutely massive,”

Y/n looked Spencer up and down. He was dressed in a black suit, looking as formal as ever, a vast contrast from last night's scruffy hair and wrinkled shirt. “Are you sizing me up?” Spencer laughed, “I’m taller than him you know,”

“So you’re just weak then? Is that it?” She teased, watching as he let out a painful scoff.

“They make exceptions for me,” Spencer said, “What I lack in muscle mass I make up for in brains,”

“Aren’t you cocky?” Y/n laughed, “Hyping yourself up there Dr Reid,”

Once more Spencer scoffed, “I can’t win here” He chuckled, “I'm going to be late because of you, which I was fine with by the way, until you start completely shredding me to pieces,”

Y/n smiled at his choice of words, which I was fine with. “You’re a menace Y/n,” He joked as he walked past her, turning around and walking backwards so that he could still see her. “Have a good day Lucifer,”

“Good luck with your case Sherlock!” She called as he turned the corner.

----

“Sorry I’m late,” Spencer muttered as he sat down in his seat. He was the last one to arrive, everyone was already seated around the table.

“Who’s the pretty girl?” Morgan cooed, a wide grin on his face.

He had probably said it as a joke, but Spencer’s mind travelled directly to Y/n and their conversation in the hallway. “Shut up,” Spencer sighed, causing Hotch to quickly begin the briefing.

The day was long. Every so often Spencer would find Y/n at the forefront of his mind, having to force himself to focus on the case in front of him. But he just couldn’t help himself. He wondered if she’d be in the hallway when he came home, asking him about his day. Or if maybe he’d run into her in the parking lot, where she would crack a joke and invite him in for another night of leftovers and wine.

Eventually, the team cracked the case. It was the combined effort of Spencer’s mind and Garcia's computers that had found the final puzzle piece. In the satisfactory haze of success, Spencer had even found himself agreeing to drinks with the team, something he rarely did.

As he sat down in his car, he contemplated ignoring his promise to meet his colleagues at the bar and just going home instead, remembering how badly he was wondering if he’d cross paths with Y/n. But he didn’t, instead, he turned the keys in the ignition and headed towards the bar.

“You just lost me ten bucks!” Morgan exclaimed as Spencer walked through the doors, handing ten dollar bill to Prentiss. “I didn’t think you’d show up,”

Emily gladly accepted the money and shoved it in her pocket, “I never doubted you, Reid,”

Even Hotch had made it to the bar before him, another participant who usually sat these things out, “I never break a promise,” Spencer smiled, trying to ignore his urge to turn on his heels and drive back home.

The team sat together in a booth. They always did, at least for the first part of the night. After thirty minutes, Morgan would spot a girl he liked, and pretend he was going to get a drink. Then shortly after, Garcia would pull JJ and Prentiss out of their seats to dance. Once everyone had dispersed, Rossi would complain about the music and go home. And once he had made sure everyone had a safe way of getting home, Hotch would leave too. “Spence,” JJ said, “It’s your turn!”

She glanced at the empty glasses on the table and back up at Spencer who rose from his seat, heading towards the bar. He ordered a round of drinks for the table, about to turn back to the team when he heard a voice next to him.

“Hi, could I please get one beer and two margaritas?” The voice politely ordered, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he listened to the girl order. The bartender muttered the total amount, and as the girl fished through her purse for money, Spencer reached his card to the bartender.

“Wha-” She interrupted herself as she glanced up at the man next to her. “Spencer!” She pulled him in for a hug, and despite Spencer’s shock, he gladly wrapped his arms around her. “I didn’t know the famous Dr Raid was a party animal!”

Spencer let out a laugh, “I very much am not,” He admitted, “I’m here with work,”

He nodded towards the booth in the corner, watching as they all laughed at some joke Morgan had made. “Shit, I have to warn everyone the feds are here!” She joked, starting to hurry away.

Spencer placed his hands on her shoulders, as to keep her from running, “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” He said, “Being one of the feds and all,”

She laughed, leaning her head against his hand on her shoulder. It was clear that she was already somewhat drunk, tipsy as Garcia would say. But Spencer didn't mind, he couldn’t help but find it adorable. “What? Is snitching a crime?” She grinned.

“It can be,” Spencer informed her, “And if you commit a crime I have no choice but to arrest you,”

Spencer’s flirtatious tone even surprised himself, it was a tone he didn’t think he was quite capable of. “I was called Lucifer by my neighbour this morning,” She said, referring to Spencer’s words, “So for all you know I might be a criminal,”

Right as Spencer was about to open his mouth to speak, another voice interrupted him. “Hey Reid what the hell is taking so long?” Morgan called from behind him. It wasn’t until Morgan was close enough to peer over Spencer’s shoulder that he could see Y/n. “Oh hello there,” He grinned.

“Is this that Morgan guy?” Y/n asked Spencer, holding back a laugh as she earned a nod from Spencer.

“Wow pretty boy, you’ve told her about me? I’m flattered,” Morgan joked, Spencer already annoyed with his best friend for interrupting his time with Y/n.

“Yeah,” Y/n laughed, “Spencer thinks you’re jacked,”

It was as if Y/n had made it her personal mission to embarrass the man in front of her. “He called you massive and muscular,” She giggled, only lying a little bit.

“Thanks, Reid, I’m glad you feel that way,” Morgan grinned, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, a hand that Spencer quickly shoved off.

Spencer let out a sigh, “this is Derek Morgan, as you know,” He said, deciding to introduce the two, “And Morgan, this is Lucifer,”

Y/n reached her hand out, “I’m Y/n,” She shook Morgans's hand, an innocent smile on her face, almost as if she was trying to dispute Spencer's nickname. “Nice to meet you Y/n,”

“I’m gonna leave you two alone,” Morgan grabbed the drinks on the bar, heading back to the booth and the team, earning a small cheer once he arrived.

Spencer only now realised how very close he and Y/n had been standing to each other. She had to tilt her head up to be able to look at him. Looking down at the girl in front of him, Spencer's flirtatious tone returned. “Massive and muscular, huh?”

Y/n let out a loud laugh, throwing her head back slightly. “Is that not what you said, Doctor?” She teased, batting her eyes up at him.

“You really are Lucifer,” Spencer grinned, “The worst of the worst,”

Spencer shook his head playfully as Y/n laughed once more. It was a sound he loved to hear, and he loved that he made her make it. “You know me so well,” She giggled.

She turned her head for a second, gazing at two girls behind her, “I have to give them their drinks,” She said, a small flash of disappointment on her face. “Could you help me carry?”

Spencer nodded, grabbing two of the drinks, and letting her hold the last one. Y/n led the way, Spencer following close behind. It gave Spencer an opportunity to get a good look at her and the beautiful dress she was wearing. It was a short blue dress, the fabric flowing beautifully around her thighs as she walked. Half of her hair was clipped up at the back of her head, but a few strands of hair had escaped the clip and were resting softly across her face. “I come bearing gifts,” Y/n handed the beer to a dark-haired girl, and through the process of elimination, I handed one of the margaritas to the other girl, earning a small thank you from them both. “You come bearing more gifts than drinks I see,” The dark-haired girl grinned, glancing between Spencer and Y/n.

Y/n turned to Spencer, grabbing the drink from his grip and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Yeah,” She smiled, glancing up at Spencer next to her. “This is Spencer,”

“Oh this is the hot neighbour,” The dark-haired girl said, “I’m Astrid, this is Violet,” Astrid motioned to the girl next to her, who gave a shy wave.

Spencer looked down at Y/n, enjoying the way her face turned a bright shade of red. “I am indeed the hot neighbour, a pleasure to meet you both,”

Spencer felt a sense of pride fill his body at the thought of Y/n telling her friends about him, even more so as she described him as the hot neighbour. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been referred to as just that, hot, but the thought of it made a wide grin make its way to his lips. “You’ve made him cocky,” Y/n groaned, rolling her eyes, “Don’t let it get to your ego Spencer,”

“Too late for that,” Spencer chuckled. He peeled Y/n’s arm off his body, deciding that it was time to make his way back to the team. “I’m gonna leave you girls for a bit, make sure you talk more about that hot neighbour of yours Y/n” He smirked before leaving the group and Y/n.

When Spencer had made his way back to the team, the table fell silent with anticipation. “So?” JJ said, waiting for Spencer to tell them all about the girl he’d just been caught with.

“What?” Spencer said, hoping that somehow they’d drop the topic and ignore how his cheeks were slowly turning red.

“Lucifer seems nice,” Morgan grinned, watching as Spencer turned a bright red.

“Lucifer?” Prentiss questioned, yet unaware of the nickname.

Morgan was happy to tell them about how that was how he’d decided to introduce her, and Spencer silently cursed himself for being so wrapped up in the moment.

The team continued to question Reid, but as they realised how little they were getting out of him, they decided to finally drop it. Soon enough, they had all returned to their regular bar-behaviour. Morgan had run off after a girl, Garcia had pulled JJ and Prentiss up to dance, and Hotch and Rossi were long gone.

As Spencer sat by himself in the booth, watching his friends as they drunkenly made their way through the bar, a finger poked the back of his shoulder. Spencer turned around, seeing a surprisingly nervous Y/n behind him. “Are you okay?” He asked, worried about her change of mood.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” She smiled, trying to add a careless touch to her body language. “I was just wondering if, uh, maybe you could, I don’t know, I was just thinking, since you’re sober-”

Spencer interrupted her, “You need a ride?” He asked, finding it adorable how nervous she had been to ask him. “If it’s not too much of a bother? We don’t have to leave right now if you want to stay,” She assured.

“No, we can leave right away, sit down here, let me just say goodbye to my friends,” He said, and she did as she was told, sitting down at the booth as Spencer moved through the bar to the dancing women in the middle of the room.

Y/n watched as he said his goodbyes to the women, before moving towards Morgan as he talked to a girl at the bar. Morgan grinned at Y/n as Spencer spoke to him, causing Spencer to roll his eyes before heading back towards a now smiling Y/n. “Let’s go,” He sighed, Y/n standing from her seat.

Spencer looked at her for a second, watching as Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion. He pulled the suit jacket off his shoulders, wrapping it around hers, “It’s cold out,” He said, earning a shy thank you from the girl in front of him. He watched as she placed her arms through the jacket, shoving her hands in the pockets. The jacket looked massive on her, reaching right above the hem of her dress.

The two left the bar, Spencer ignoring Morgans's smirk as they walked out the front doors. “Thanks for giving me a ride,”

“Anytime,” Spencer flashed her a warm smile, opening the passenger side door for Y/n. “We do live in the same apartment complex after all,” Spencer hopped in at the driver's side, taking a second to look at Y/n in his car, wearing his jacket, before he started the car.

The ride was mostly silent, Spencer could see how Y/n was practically fighting to keep her eyes open as the streetlights lit up her face. She was pretty like that, as her head rested against the seat, her dress inching up her thigh slightly as she got comfortable in her seat.

Soon they had reached the parking lot outside the apartment complex, “Taxi has arrived ma’am,” Spencer joked, earning a tired giggle from Y/n as they both hopped out of the car, heading inside together.

The two walked to Y/n’s door where she stopped. She began taking the suit jacket off but was interrupted by Spencer. “Keep it for a while,” He said, pulling the jacket back up her shoulder.

Spencer looked down at her as she smiled, his expression all too serious in contrast to hers. “What?” She asked, watching as Spencer smiled once more. “You’re really pretty,” He said, feeling nervous despite his coined nickname as the hot neighbour.

“Don’t fall victim to the doorstep effect,” She giggled, only being met by Spencer’s confusion. “The doorstep effect?” He questioned.

“Yeah, it’s when the guy feels like he wants to kiss the girl because of the whole romance cliche about kissing on doorsteps,” She explained, “It’s a very real thing, Spencer,”

“I don’t think it’s because of the cliché,” Spencer admitted, taking a small step closer.

“But you want to kiss me?” Y/n asked, almost as if to confirm.

“Can I?”

Y/n didn’t answer, instead, she placed a hand on each side of his face, pulling him down to meet her lips. Her lips met his, and Spencer was quick to hold her face as he deepened the kiss. He hadn’t been aware of how much he had craved this kiss until her lips were on his.

Slowly, Spencer pulled away, loving the look in her eyes as she craved more. “Good night, Lucifer,” He said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Good night Spencer,”

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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year

Text

The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 7

cw: parental death, grief, referenced murder, allusions to sex work, slow burn, more tags will be added as the story continues

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: 4k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Kate had been awake for what she was certain must have been hours, just lying there. Too afraid to break this sliver of peace she’d stumbled upon.

The steady rise and fall of her chest naturally mimicked that of Vincent's as she felt it against her side.

The quiet couldn’t last forever. He shifted away from her with a groan. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just awoken or if he’d been basking in the moment like she’d been.

“C’mon,” he said, his voice soft. “We gotta go, just follow me.”

She let him pull her to her feet without protest, following quietly behind, the lingering peace of sleep still blanketing her in a calm that she desperately needed.

As she followed behind him, one hand clasped Vincent’s while the other still carried Anne’s dress, cradling it close to her chest as he led her through the streets.

“Where are we going,” she finally asked, feeling disoriented by his route. She was used to main streets and grand entrances, not the back alleys that she was being pulled through now.

“Somewhere safe,” he said plainly, and as her drowsiness began to fade, the evasiveness of his answer struck her.

She was on alert once again and although the streets weren’t ones she was used to, it didn’t take long before some of them became eerily familiar.

As soon as she realized she stopped in her tracks, staying firmly planted in place as Vincent attempted to tug her onwards. “What do you mean somewhere safe? You said she was dangerous.”

“She won’t hurt you, don’t worry,” he tried to reassure her, but the fact that he’d attempted to hide it overrode the sincerity in his tone.

“I don’t even know what she is!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but I need to find somewhere safe to bring you and Evelyn is one of my only options.”

A few days ago that wouldn’t have been nearly enough to convince her but a few days ago she had a lot more freedom. “Fine, but you have to tell me what she is. No more vagueness and secrets, I want to know.”

“Do you promise you won’t freak out?”

Kate nodded solemnly.

“Alright, well the closest thing you have in human lore is a vampire.”

Kate gasped, her eyes widening as her hands flew to cover her mouth. “She’s a vampire? Hold on, vampires are real?”

“You promised not to freak out, this looks like freaking out.”

Her mind was already darting through the implications. “Wait, so how many of the creatures in folklore are real?”

“I don’t know, most of them. Can we talk about this later?” he asked as he glanced around.

“That’s wild, that’s… you know, in hindsight, I think I should have seen that coming, she fits it perfectly. She isn’t doing much to hide it, is she?”

“No, she most certainly is not. Can we please go now?”

The new information hadn’t done much to soothe Kate but she let Vincent pull her along once more. She’d already decided to trust him, if he said she’d be safe here she knew that it was true.

Or at least that he believed it.

It was much easier to enter Evelyn’s home through a doorway. Not that she would have had the option. She noticed with a twinge of misplaced pride that all the windows that had previously been left open to air out the rooms were now firmly closed and locked.

Vincent walked in ahead of her and she let him take the lead. As eager as she’d been to run into situations head first, this seemed like one where it was wise to stay back.

She heard the clicking of heels and a familiar voice said, “I swear to god if you’re bringing me another unconscious human I am going to…”

Evelyn stopped in her tracks the second she laid eyes on Kate, her expression shifting from that of vague amusement to a distressed sort of fury.

Vincent gave her an apologetic smile. “Well, she’s not unconscious.”

Her eyes flitted back and forth between you, the moment of angry panic fading back to her practiced lazy confidence. “Vincent, I swear to god, you cannot keep doing this.”

“She needed help!”

“Odd, feels like you can’t seem to stop running into people who need help. I don’t know how I seem to keep missing them. Actually, maybe I prefer it this way. You’re getting too trigger-happy lately. At least this one seems like she’s been invited here, although why you’d do such a thing is beyond me.”

“For the record, I am not trigger-happy. The Daniel thing wasn’t even my idea! She’s the one who knocked him out!” he said, gesturing vaguely in Kate’s direction.

That seemed to pique Evelyn’s interest, her gaze shifting for the first real time, to Kate. No longer was she regarding her like a stray dog Vincent had brought, now she was looking as if she was a real person standing before her.

“Did you?” she prompted, looking Kate up and down, making her squirm a little under the unrelenting inspection.

“I needed to. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

That earned a wry chuckle from her. “Well, at least this one’s more interesting than the last one. She’s got more bite to her. Maybe we will get along.”

Kate winced at the word bite. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Kate hadn’t thought that Evelyn could get any more irritated with Vincent but in that moment she was genuinely concerned for his wellbeing.

“Now why would she think that’s a joke,” Evelyn asked through gritted teeth.

It was his turn to squirm as she glared at him. “We may have discussed some of your… proclivities.”

Her jaw tightened as she stared Vincent down. “And what else might have you discussed?”

“On the bright side, you don’t need to worry about calling them humans when she walked in. There’s no more game to give away, use all the weird language you’d like.”

Evelyn did not seem to view this as the positive Vincent was attempting to spin it as.

“I am counting the days until you either figure this shit out or give up and frame someone. I can’t even get gray hairs but I swear every time we talk I get closer.”

That perked him up. “About the figuring it out situation…”

Kate cut him off. It was her decision now anyways, he didn’t need to flounder in an attempt to explain. “It’s done, my mother confessed. She hasn’t been arrested yet but it’s only a matter of time.”

“You solved it?” Evelyn asked, giving Kate a once over as she did.

She nodded. “Should’ve done it sooner. It’s my fault it even took as long as it did. But this case will be closed soon, I will make certain of it, do whatever it takes.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow at her statement. “Whatever it takes, huh?”

Kate nodded, her absolute determination refusing to waver.

Vincent cut in, adding, “Also, everyone might currently think Kate did it so that’s a minor roadblock we need to handle. In related news, I’m just gonna leave her here for a couple hours. Just like… 12 hours. Maybe 14.”

Her attention snapped back towards him, losing whatever interest she’d had in Kate. “Vincent! I have appointments tonight, what am I supposed to do?”

“Postpone them?”

If looks could kill, he would be long gone. “You aren’t doing this. I know you aren’t. What has gotten into you? You said you figured it out! That’s it. It’s done, case closed, just go arrest her. We can all celebrate no longer being murder suspects and you can take Kate along as you clear her name.”

“I have to figure some stuff out first.”

She rubbed her temples. “Vincent, I went along with your stupid little plan to unravel all of this instead of just pinning it on someone, please don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Just give me a few hours, that’s it.”

“14 hours is not a few hours.”

“You’re the best, thanks!” he called back, already heading towards the door as Evelyn continued to scowl at him.

She spent what felt like an eternity just glaring at the door that was slowly swinging closed with a squeak that seemed deafening in the otherwise quiet room.

Finally, with a huff, she turned her attention back to Kate, saying, “I know this isn’t your fault but I think I might blame you anyways.”

Kate managed a weak smile. “Shame, I thought we could both blame Vincent.”

“I might take you up on that when he gets back. He’d rather listen to his human of the week than me anyways.”

Kate wanted to press that statement and learn more about Vincent but it seemed wise to leave that particular topic alone, at least until Evelyn calmed down.

“Who were you going to pin it on?” she asked instead. It took massive amounts of restraint to not tack a ‘was it me?’ onto the end of her question.

“I couldn’t have cared less. You were at the top of the list until Vincent started fawning over you. Your little fiance was a close second.”

“He’s not my fiance. And the motive isn’t there, it wouldn’t have made sense.”

She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter if it makes sense, just matters that it’s not me.”

“Speaking of my non-fiance, where are they? Him and that detective?” Kate asked as she glanced around, looking for any signs of a makeshift prison.

“Blindfolded and handcuffed to a pipe in a closet. They’re very annoying to take care of, I wanted nothing to do with the matter but the alternative was Vincent taking care of them and I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

“Because they would have escaped under his watch or because he would’ve let them go?”

She waved the question off. “One or the other, impossible to know with him. Although those two don’t really seem like his type, especially not after he met you.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t help but wonder what would it have been like if he’d met one of them first. Maybe he would’ve been by Daniel’s side instead. The thought made her feel a little sick, though she couldn’t fully place why. Pushing it aside, she continued on with her neverending questions.

“What appointments are you missing?”

“I’m supposed to be drinking people’s blood, dear. Amongst other things. Why all the questions, are you interested?”

She smiled and Kate couldn’t tell if she was flirting or teasing her. If she had to bet, she’d put her money on both.

“Do you… kill them?” she asked hesitantly.

“God, you’re so dramatic. No, I don’t kill them. You’d be surprised how many people are ready and willing to participate.”

“You get men to willingly sign up to get their blood drunk?”

“Did I say men?”

“Just any old person then?”

She shrugged and gave Kate a knowing smile. Every smile from her felt almost antagonistic. Like it was meant to be a little frightening, an active attempt to make herself as offputting as possible. “I don’t discriminate. Bloods blood, after all, and a humans a human.”

One thing was missing from her menacing smile though. “You don’t have fangs. Don't vampires usually have fangs?”

The question seemed to catch her genuinely off-guard, reeling back a little before regaining her composure and putting on her imposing little performance once more. “I did. They got filed down, it’s standard practice nowadays. Hurts like hell but they say it's better than being so recognizable, that there are less suspicious ways to draw blood. It’s a shame, I wish I still had them. Fuck what the humans think, I can fend for myself.”

“Wouldn’t that just make everything harder? I imagine the clothes do,” she said, looking down at the intense black that even Kate couldn’t match in her funeral garb.

“It does. I don’t give a shit. We’ve hidden for long enough if you ask me.”

Kate couldn’t help but smile at the thought. She’d spent her whole life hiding and lying, not knowing there was any other option. And then these monsters, these creatures of honesty and bravery appeared and it somehow felt more foreign than anything else they ever could have shown her.

It was overwhelming, being faced with people with so much to lose being so much braver than anyone she’d ever seen, than anything she could ever do.

Now when she thought of returning home, back to normalcy, it wasn’t just dread of the inevitable that filled her. There was something else sneaking in, this sense that she would be choosing this, that she could escape the endless lies and the hiding. After all, they did.

Her breathing got shallower and her chest felt tight right under when she was holding Anne’s dress.

Looking down at it, she came to a decision and the tension dissipated. The dread and the grief couldn’t catch up with her if she just kept moving so that's what she’d do.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” she said with the politest smile she was still capable of. “Do you have somewhere I can change?”

“Where ever you’d like, I don’t mind.”

Kate got the distinct impression Evelyn wouldn’t have minded if she started stripping right there and then but still she wandered off until she found an empty room.

It had a bed in the center with some suspicious stains on it that she tried not to think too hard about and dozens of mirrors lining the perimeter of the room. It wasn’t exactly ideal but it would do for the short time she’d be here.

She had absolutely no intention of staying put, but she knew she couldn’t show up as she was. Even now she wasn’t that reckless. But Vincent had unintentionally given her a disguise and she’d be amiss not to use it.

It was a good bet, no one really noticed the servants, especially if she stuck to herself. The hardest part would be getting out without Evelyn stopping her.

Her attempt to get out of her mourning clothes was not going well. She hadn’t noticed how much she was shaking until she was face to face with the buttons and lacing of her dress.

A familiar, looming presence arrived in the doorway.

Kate could feel her gaze even before she turned to meet Evelyn’s eye.

“It’s polite to knock,” she said, not allowing the woman’s presence to stop her from attempting to free herself of the endless black clothing.

She watched, an amused look on her face as she watched Kate struggle to undo her clothes on her own.

“You need help with that?” Evelyn asked, not even attempting to hide her smile.

“I’m fine,” Kate replied with a huff.

“Seems like it.” She watched as shaky fingers struggled to untie a bow for a few moments more before pacing over and swatting Kate’s hands away.

She pushed Kate’s tensed shoulders down and added, “Relax a little, I don’t bite. Well, I do but that’s beside the point.”

Somehow that didn’t add to Kate’s trust in the woman.

She continued on, barely paying any mind to the rising tension of the girl below her fingertips.

“What do you think of him,” she asked as Kate felt the garment loosen.

“I don’t know. He’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, I guess. Haven’t had much time to think about anything at all lately.” That wasn’t quite true but she was sure Evelyn didn’t want to hear about the neverending flurry of thoughts that plagued her.

Evelyn guided the dress down her arms, the corset loosening around her a few moments later.

She kept talking as she worked. “That boy has a real bleeding heart. I try and get him to loosen up and have some fun and he brings home a handful of strays with sob stories.”

“Is that what I am?” she asked, trying to get a good look at the woman behind her through the mirrors. “One of his strays?”

“I don’t know. Usually, he moves them along pretty quickly, tries not to get too attached. With you, well, I think it might be too late for that. Good luck getting rid of him now, I certainly haven’t had any luck with it.”

The last remnants of her mourning garb fell to the ground and before Kate could protest that she could take it from here Evelyn was already helping her into Anne’s clothes.

“Are you trying to?”

“Not really. But don’t tell him that, I have to keep up pretenses. I would ruin my brand if people found out I wasn’t a heartless bitch.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think there’s any danger of that.”

“Be careful. What is it they say about glass houses?”

As Evelyn finished, Kate looked at herself in Anne’s clothes in one of the many mirrors lining the walls, but Evelyn didn’t seem interested in leaving. She hovered just behind Kate, eyes roaming her without so much as a care about Kate’s feelings on being inspected.

Her head cocked to the side as if trying to get a new angle on Kate. “Your mind is elsewhere. What’s going on up there?”

“I need to go back.”

“I know. That’s why you’re getting dressed, isn’t it?”

“Vincent wouldn’t want me to go,” Kate blurted out.

Evelyn looked around the room. “Huh, I had no idea he’d snuck back in here. Making decisions for you before I could even lay eyes on him, how does he do it? Go. Do what you need to do. If he comes back early I’ll handle it.”

“Promise?”

“In regards to you sneaking out? Sure. I make no promises about anything else you might do. I have evidence of how easily you get carried away tied up in the other room, I’m not that foolish.”

“Thank you,” she said, and she wondered if Evelyn could hear her sincerity or if she’d gotten so used to faking it over the years that no one could tell any longer.

Getting home was easy. She lived in this city her whole life, lived there for so long, she could find her way home from anywhere.

It filled her with unease the second she laid eyes on it but the emotion didn’t feel out of place. It had always been there, bottled up with every other emotion.

She managed to make her way past people of various stations as she slipped inside, avoiding eye contact and keeping her head down as much as she could.

She was so set on keeping her head down and out of trouble that she didn’t even see her coming until she heard the faint gasp.

Her head rose to see Anne backing away from her, hands raised in a quiet surrender, like she was a wild animal who could pounce at any moment.

“Kate,” she said quietly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She hadn’t been certain why she was coming back until this moment, with Anne in front of her. Before it was just the need to keep pushing forward propelling her, sending her back again. But now, staring down the person who’d been her only friend, she knew exactly why she was here. “I needed to come back.”

Anne kept backing slowly away, edging towards the door. “No, you didn’t. There’s nothing left here. Now I know we didn’t leave off on the best terms but you shouldn’t do anything rash.”

“I didn’t… you’re scared of me.” The observation felt like a punch in the gut, all of the air being sucked out of her.

“No, I’m not,” she said too quickly in a voice a little higher than it should’ve been.

“Please don’t do this. I’m still Kate, I’m still…”

But was she? She wasn’t even sure she could recognize the Kate that Anne knew anymore. For so long, that was the closest to honesty she’d gotten, and yet now that girl felt like just as much of a stranger as everyone else did with their own unique set of lies.

“Yeah, of course you are,” she said, in a desperate attempt to placate her.

There was nothing she could do to fix this. Not this version of her, not this person who Anne didn’t know. Kate had pushed her away at just the wrong time and now Anne was scared of her and there was nothing she could do to change that.

Anne finally seemed to decide she’d edged close enough to the door, turning heel and running through the doorway.

A few moments later, a familiar detective walked through the door, presumably retracing Anne’s panicked steps.

Worry creased his brow as he laid eyes on Kate. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, rushing to her side. He pulled her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his in an attempt to ground her. “You shouldn’t be here. I’ve got this, you’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“No. I… I needed to be here.”

He glanced nervously behind him as he spoke. “Alright, we have bigger problems right now. Is she going to tell someone you’re here? Do we need to run or can you just hide?”

And she didn’t know. She has no idea if her best friend in the world was turning her in as they spoke.

The most she could manage was a shrug and then they were off, Vincent dragging her behind him.

This time there were no arguments as he took her back to Evelyn, shouting, “I told you to keep her here,” as soon as he entered.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “She wanted to leave, what was I supposed to do, lock her up?’

He was wide-eyed and disheveled, looking more frustrated than Kate had ever seen him before. Evelyn stood as confident as ever.

Kate just let them bicker, Vincent furious and insisting she could’ve been hurt while Evelyn tried to remind him that it wasn’t his choice to make.

“What were you even doing there?” Kate finally asked, cutting off their fighting in an attempt to make sense of as much of this as she could.

“Talking to your mother, trying to get her to recant her statement. To give you an escape route, if you needed one. I think if you let me try for longer, I might be able to-”

“Please stop.”

He shook his head, “No, I really think it’s possible.”

He didn’t get it. She had to make him get it. “And who then? If not her, then who? What innocent soul are we sacrificing if it's not my mother? “

“I don’t know, we’ll figure it out.”

“No, let’s talk about it right now. Maybe Evelyn, what about that? She’s an easy target.”

He looked like a kicked puppy but she couldn’t stop. She needed him to understand. “You’re not being fair…”

“Okay, not her. Blame it on one of the staff then. They had easy access, I’m sure we could come up with a motive. I’ve got an easy one, just say it was Anne. Everyone knows we’re close, it would be an easy sell.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. I can’t stop until you understand.” She got more and more frantic the more she spoke. “ It has to be her. She did this. I know she’s my mother and I know you feel for her but I also know that we can’t just leave this be. He’s dead and she did it and that has to be it. I need that to be it.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay, that’s it then.”

“That’s it?” she asked, and she hated how small she sounded.

“That’s it. Your call.”

She expected to have to fight harder but he backed down. He’d been telling the truth, she supposed. It was up to her, her choice to make.

She opened her mouth to thank him but before anything could be said, a knock on the door echoed through the room.

Kate and Vincent turned to look but Evelyn sprung right into action. She manhandled Kate into the closest cupboard, shutting the door after hissing at her to stay absolutely quiet.

She held her breath as she stood in the wooden box that was barely big enough to fit her. The front door swung open and Evelyn alone greeted the people at the door, Vincent off somewhere. Maybe he was hiding in some other equally cramped space.

Her blood ran cold as she heard a few words through the door, muffled talk about warrants making its way to her.

The police were here. If they found her she would be arrested but worse than that, there were two kidnapped people in this house, kidnapped people who knew far too much.

If they found and freed them, that was it. Evelyn would be arrested and what would Vincent even be able to do? Harvey and Daniel would hear tales about all the things they managed to do despite having been kidnapped and they’d all know. Vincent would have to just go, leave the two of them at the mercy of the law, or worse, he’d try something stupid and all three of them would get hurt.

Kate did the only thing she could think of. She took one final, deep breath as she stepped out of the cupboard

“I’m in here,” Kate called, praying she could convince the police that Evelyn had no idea she was hiding here, that at the very least she could protect someone.

It certainly got their attention. Barely a moment had passed before she was being restrained and hauled towards the door.

On her way out she passed Evelyn, giving some sob story to the officer in front of her.

In one fleeting moment of eye contact, as Kate was pulled out, she saw a gleam of acknowledgment in her eyes, a quiet thank you that turned to fear once more before any of the officers even had time to notice.

It was in Evelyn’s hands now. Kate was shoved into the back of a police wagon as she sent a silent ‘good luck’ to the pair she was leaving behind. She had a feeling they’d all need it.

#the shapeshifting detective #terato #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #shapeshifter #Evelyn my beloved <3 #we’re almost done folks

83 notes · View notes

synonymroll648 · 1 year

Text

no hummingbirds, no butterflies (just soft whirrs & peaceful daylight)

pairings/relationships: queerplatonic keefex, minor mentions of dex’s dynamics with his parents, + referenced dadwin (keefe & elwin as a parent-son duo of sorts)

tws: minor (autistic) overstimulation, anxiety, touch starvation, swearing, implied sexual humor (keefe’s here, what’d you expect), and i think that’s it - but please let me know if there’s more that should be added!

summary: “I—okay, fine. You’re not patient with gadgets or alchemy or anything that’s a project,” Keefe laughs, and then his voice goes…gentle. Like midnight rain. “But you’re patient with people. You’re patient with me.”

You’re patient with me, Keefe says, and Dex thinks, What an interesting way to say ‘I love you’.

OR: An exploration of what Keefe and Dex’s dynamic could’ve been if Keefe hadn’t run off to the forbidden cities.

additional notes: happy final day of @keefex-week 2023, even if this is for the day 1 prompt queerplatonic! i started this fic back in feburary as an ayyam-i-ha gift for the one and only wonderful @bookwyrminspiration, but didn’t finish in time, and then i tried finishing it in time for its tumblr bday, and didn’t finish in time for that either. but at least i finished in time for this! i hope you enjoy the third draft of keefex being queerplatonic and neurodivergent (i wrote this with autistic!dex in the front of my mind. also, this entire fic was inspired by this keefex shitpost i made [and the really gay eckodon scene in book 4].) comments and constructive criticism are appreciated!

word count: 6.4k

ao3 link (recommended)

taglist: @gay-otlc @purplesoup-lad-le @when-wax-wings-melt @asexual-juliet @cowboypossume @xanadaus

fic under the cut :)

Out of all the things that can surprise Dex Dizznee at 12:21am, getting hailed by Keefe Sencen isn’t one of them.

The buzzing of his imparter laying on his bed cuts through the quiet ambiance of the noisemakers carefully placed in his room. The gadget Dex has mindlessly fidgeted with for minutes on end gets set down on his desk, and he carefully steps through the mess on his floor to pick up the hail.

(After turning the volume down, because Keefe has accidentally woken up Dex’s parents from laughing too loud on more than one night like this.)

“Heeeey, Dexy,” Keefe deliriously croons across the line.

Deliriously is the correct description, Dex knows, because Keefe only ever uses that tone when his guard is down—and after Loamnore, lowered guards only ever occur after a mental breakdown or from serious sleep deprivation.

Or both.

“Hello to you too, at this totally reasonable hour for the two of us to be awake,” Dex sits down on the edge of his bed, tucking his feet up onto the mattress.

A snicker. “Tooooootally.”

Dex does a brief internal analysis of his face—he doesn’t have enough time to be thorough without being awkward, but no mental notes at all is bound to leave him floundering later on in the conversation.

Dark circles → Keefe is probably at least halfway out of his mind.

Bedhead → Keefe is definitely at least halfway out of his mind.

Lots of blankets and pillows → Keefe is either content or in the middle of an existential crisis.

Slightly more prominent freckles across the bridge of his nose than usual → Congratulate Keefe on getting some sunshine.

Keefe starts talking again, and Dex is glad that he doesn’t have to be the one to resume conversation. “What’d I interrupt?”

“Me trying to get work done for the Black Swan or school but being too tired to think properly.”

“I’m guessing you’re also too awake to go to sleep.”

“Bingo,” Dull exasperation on Dex’s end.

“Relatable.” Fatigue softens the ‘t’ so much that it’s only implied at best. Relatable is surrender wearing a humorous mask; Keefe’s favorite shield.

You need to say something. It’s the start to an all-too familiar chain reaction. He almost lists out all the ways You need to say something evolves into something much more panic-inducing, since lists usually help, but this is one of those few exceptions where listing it all out will screw him over.

So Dex starts on the steps to prevent that, with an inhale quiet enough that Keefe hopefully doesn’t think he’s sighing. Next is grasping for something to contribute. Something silly, preferably.

Dex is a second slower to reply than he’d like, but he finds something that works. His headspace relaxes once he asks, “Is the bingo card or the bingo pieces or the bingo itself relatable?”

“Hmmmmm, good question…” Keefe tilts his gaze up to the ceiling of his starry bedroom at Splendor Plains.

Dex takes his thoughtful pause as an opportunity to study Keefe further. He notes gulon pajamas, and eyelashes that are long and dark and confusingly nice to look at—which makes him think of the eckodon ride to Alluveterre, the first time he’d really noticed them—which makes heat begin to fester under his skin, because that was a lot of physical contact and—

—Keefe starts talking again, and it’s enough to get his brain to shut up. “Bingo pieces, probably. Sometimes I get put in situations where things work out, and sometimes I get put in situations where they don’t. Comes down to everyone else’s luck.”

The Keefe is either content or in the middle of an existential crisis part of Dex’s mental notes from earlier resurfaces at the front of his mind, and he leans a little more towards preparing for helping Keefe through an existential crisis.

Then Dex leans a few degrees back into the or part of the note, once Keefe cracks, “Kinda like all the backstories we came up with for Keebler elves.”

Laughter, fast and loose and loud, threatens to explode out of Dex’s chest. He quickly covers his mouth, unable to help looking away and throwing his head back while he tries to not disturb the sleepy nighttime air that blankets Rimeshire.

When Dex looks back down at Keefe, there’s a proud grin crinkling the corners of his eyes, smushed up against the cozy mess of his bedding. Keefe wrestles a hand out from under the blankets it was trapped under, and points directly at his imparter camera. “You thought it was funny, don’t deny it,”

“I won’t,” Dex relents. A wistful sigh almost turns into snickers, since he’s apparently spent way too many nights talking with Keefe over the past few months. “That was probably the funnest reason for pulling an all-nighter.”

A giggle. More than one giggle, actually. A whole stream of them, like a human song kids would get hooked on. (Giggles. Keefe is undoubtedly delirious, guaranteed to be more than halfway out of his mind. There’s no other explanation for him being so light and sunny at 12:26 in the morning.) “Best all-nighter eeee-ver! No school, just the silly.”

Dex arcs an eyebrow like the sunrise that’s hours away. “The silly?”

“The silly!” Beaming a childish grin, Keefe’s fist punches out of his heap of blankets and up into the air, almost as if he’s cheering for something.

The force of it sends Keefe’s imparter—wherever it’s propped up on—toppling over. The view on Dex’s imparter shifts to close-up constellations behind glass. He hasn’t done well enough in his Universe class to be able to identify anything before Keefe cries, “Dex! Mrs. Stinkbottom! My dearest companions! Noooooooo!”

This time, Dex has to gently bite down on his knuckles to keep himself from laughing too loud.

(Dex has to stop himself from wondering too much about the depth behind My dearest companions too. Because he’s gone down far too many rabbit holes about whether or not he’s romantically attracted to Keefe and been left with a confusing answer of no, but also not being satisfied with the label platonic either. He just focuses on the joy of someone finding him valuable outside of his tech and alchemy skillsets.)

There’s a smile on Dex’s face so wide it makes him feel dumb as he watches Keefe lean over his bed to try and grab at his imparter. Awkwardly angled footage goes a little fuzzy as Mrs. Stinkbottom gets pulled up before Dex. Well, not Dex, the imparter, since Dex is leaned back against his pillow and headboard and not collapsed on Keefe’s bedroom floor, but no one cares about technicalities like that other than Dex.

Finally, Keefe’s hand presumably wraps around his imparter, and Dex’s screen is a blur as Keefe hauls ‘him’ up. “I got a little too silly for the world to handle,” he pouts.

“The world? I don’t think me and Mrs. Stinkbottom count as the world. Pretty sure there’s a lot more to the world than that.”

“Well, that’s the only part of the world I care about right now.”

Don’t read into it, don’t read into it, don’t read into it—

Dex doesn’t read into it. Because he’s a master at this seemingly mythical thing called self-restraint, if his friends are anything to go by. “I dunno, I’m pretty sure you care about your blankets and pillows right now,”

Keefe’s lips thin into a disconcerted line. “...Yeah, I do. Caught me red-handed,” he mumbles, relaxing further into the comfortable disaster he’s wrapped himself in. “But that’s it.”

You sure about that? he wants to ask, but takes the few seconds of silence to consider his options and turn the conversation towards something else instead. “How much have you slept?”

Things That Would Replicate Keefe’s Hysterical Laughter at That Question When Mixed Together Properly:

Tea kettles when their contents are boiling.

Monkeys screeching.

Gasps from someone who almost drowned. Or ran a long distance at a high speed and finally got to stop. Or something like that.

A recording of someone’s sobbing or laughing that could pass as both to unaware listeners.

It’s a little startling—startling enough that he jumps at the unexpected change in sound. Frantically, he turns down his imparter volume. And then Dex tries to climb under his covers as quietly as he can and curls up on his side, so he can fake being asleep if his mom pops in to check on him. (She’s a light sleeper, which she’s jokingly coined as her proof that she married into the Dizznee family instead of being born into it.)

Keefe wipes at his eyes. “You gotta specify a time frame, Dex. Tonight? The last twenty four hours? The last week? Etcetera,”

It takes a blip of time to remember what they’re talking about. “Last twenty four hours.”

“I took a nap after lunch. Ro woke me up for dinner. After that, I painted until I spilled my water jar on accident. Cleaning up made me realize how tired I was, so I tried to sleep. Buuuuut…” Something about the way Keefe’s facial expression just barely shifts makes Dex suspect that he’s either gonna cough up a hard truth or lie to cover it up. “my brain wouldn’t shut off. And now we’re here.”

Dex takes a shot in the dark—literally. The only thing lighting up his room is his open curtains. Moonlight washes the room in pale silvers and a whole scale of blues. “Was it that you couldn’t stop thinking period, or you couldn’t stop thinking about the wrong things?”

The steady, easy rise and fall of Keefe’s form stills. It resumes when Keefe sighs and says, “Does anything get past you?”

I’ve spent my whole life analyzing everything to the best of my ability, because I’ve spent my whole life out of the loop and fighting to get in it. It’s late at night, and your guard’s down. Of course nothing you do gets past me. Too serious, too blunt. Killjoy of a response. Dex condenses it into something lighter, but still truthful. “When it comes to you, no, not that I know of.”

“I feel like that’s a sign that I’ve overshared on one too many nightly hails over the past few months,” Keefe tries to laugh it off, but Dex can sense the nervous undertone.

“I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop you next time you try to open up,” Dex offers. He hopes Keefe doesn’t take him up on it.

Dread begins to stir in his stomach as Keefe pauses to consider. It dissipates when Keefe says, “Nahhh, I trust you to not take advantage of me being stupid. Also, like—actually, you know what? Can I ramble about something? The only way my brain can make points is through stories right now. But if you want me to shut up, that’s fine.”

“Ramble away,” Dex says. It’s nice being your number one person to talk to, even if I’m sure it won’t last forever.

“Okay, so, earlier today—well, technically yesterday now, but no one cares—anyways. Anyways.” Keefe clears his throat, fist in front of his mouth. Eyebrows downturn in a way that’s either ironically or unironically serious; Dex can’t tell.

Dex poorly suppresses a smile. Turns up the volume again to hear him better, and resolves to just remind Keefe, No sudden noises please, if he gets too loud again.

“So basically, after Ro woke me up, Elwin knocked on my doorway today and told me dinner was ready if I was hungry. It was in the usual spot he leaves it for me since being in the same room as people is hard and he’s cool about me eating alone, y’know? I feel like I told you about that already, but whatever.” (Keefe has indeed told Dex about this routine. On multiple occasions.) “I hear his footsteps walking away, and I open the door and I say ‘Elwin?’”

“Out loud, or using signs?”

“Out loud,” Keefe confirms.

It’s been a month or two since Keefe managed to start saying short phrases to people aloud again, but it’s still difficult enough—especially without preparation beforehand—that it’s always a surprise to hear him mention talking out loud face-to-face recently. Dex’s eyebrows nearly touch his hairline. He holds back the Wow, Keefe, incredible job—genuinely, ready to jump off the cliff’s edge of his tongue. Lets Keefe keep talking.

“So he turns around and he tilts his head in this way that’s like, hey, keep going. My nerves started acting up, but I managed to ask if we could eat at the table together. I had to clear my throat and clarify—well, I was really just rambling, but whatever—that sitting, like, right next to him would be too much. And I’d probably have to sit on the opposite end of the table, but he told me that was totally fine. No disappointment or anything. And we—we actually had a conversation. Not just a few sentences. I could keep up with talking back and forth for longer than a few minutes. And there was this point where he said…” Keefe stops. “He said, um. Hang on.”

Keefe flops his face into his pillow. Dex suppresses an instinctual smile at the unintelligible noises that come out of Keefe’s throat, because he doesn’t know if they’re positive or negative. Yet.

So he asks. “Is this good or bad?”

Keefe nods. Confusion forms in a crease between Dex’s eyebrows. Some absurd part of Dex suspects Keefe can sense it through the screen, because he turns his face towards his imparter and clarifies, “Good. I think. I’ve just forgotten how to handle affection in general. And I’ve never known how to handle it from parental figures.”

Parental figures has delighted surprise lighting up Dex’s face for a split second before he smooths his expression out into something neutral again. Elwin’s always been a lot better than Cassius. Keefe maybe, just maybe, finding someone else to call ‘dad’ or something like it would be good for him.

Dex hopes they get there. Eventually.

Dex also doesn’t know if it’s too early to tell Keefe that, so he errs on the side of caution. “From what I’ve heard you tell me, I don’t think Elwin minds that you don’t really know what you’re doing. But what did Elwin say to you? You cut yourself off.”

Keefe blinks, a bit slow to respond. “Sorry, I was processing that first sentence. Uh. He said that he was really proud of me. For,” —Keefe’s laugh in between words is bittersweet— “being so brave about all of this. And I thought he was playing up how he felt to make me feel better, so I told him that he didn’t have to lie to me. Then he told me that he was being dead serious, and he was sorry he didn’t say it more often. And he tried complimenting me more, but, um, I—I told him to stop because I didn’t want to start crying, y’know? Especially since I couldn’t—can’t hug him. Or anything like that,”

Dex doesn’t really know how this relates to whatever point(s?) Keefe was trying to make earlier about trusting Dex, but he’ll roll with the punches. “I’m not a professional on emotions or anything, but I think it’s okay to get overwhelmed by someone being nice to you when you’re used to literally nothing at best.”

“That’s…” Keefe goes quiet. Dex wonders if he said the right or wrong thing. Hopefully it was right. It feels right, at least. “That’s good to hear. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dex says, and gives him a tired smile. Not because he’s tired of Keefe, but because it’s who knows what hour in the morning now and Dex has been on a losing streak with his sleep schedule for roughly a week now.

Keefe sighs. “I wish I could hug you,” he whines. “You’re always so nice about putting up with my bullshit, and you’re cute when you’re tired, and I call you all the time but I still miss you because it’s not the same as when I could wrap my arm around you and say I’ve got you, Dexy, without physical consequences.”

There are many, many things that Dex could think in response to that. There are many, many things that Dex does think in response to that. But the first thing that comes to mind is if this conversation had been a string of imparter texts, Keefe would have written something along the lines of “:(((“ at least once just now.

Keefe bulldozes on. “Like, you’re so…patient,”

And then Dex cuts him off with a snort. “You are the first person I have ever heard call me patient. Ever.”

“I—okay, fine. You’re not patient with gadgets or alchemy or anything that’s a project,” Keefe laughs, and then his voice goes…gentle. Like midnight rain. “But you’re patient with people. You’re patient with me.”

You’re patient with me, Keefe says, and Dex thinks, What an interesting way to say ‘I love you’.

It’s an observation. Not a revelation, because Dex has known for months now that his dynamic with Keefe is defined by oddities. They are misfits on the outskirts of everything they know. They are two boys that don’t fit neatly into any boxes—one with a genetically modified ability that’s drastically altered his life in ways no one knows how to fix, and the other the son of a bad match that’s become a regent at 15 and a Black Swan technopath even younger. They are more than that, too, and they see all of that more in each other. They see all the mundane more and the wild more and all the more in between that doesn’t fit into any box society likes. They’ve been seeing more of all the more in one another over these past few months, and scrapping their discoveries together like spare parts into something that’s probably confusing and worthless to the rest of the world, but it works for them.

Progressing without refining, coloring outside the lines—it’s not what mechanics or artists are supposed to do, but for this piece, for their style, for their invention, it works for them.

This weird version of love that they have, that seems to permanently float either between or outside platonic and romantic binaries (Dex is too sleepy to tell): it works for them.

It works for them.

“You make being patient worth it, Keefe. You always do, in the long run.”

Half-lidded eyes shoot wide, and Dex can’t tell if the glaze over icy irises is due to tears or lighting until Keefe’s turning away and whining, “Dex, what the fuck did I say about not wanting to cry?”

Dex is glad that his words touched Keefe, since his hands can’t. Appreciation presents itself through amused exhales at the smile on Keefe’s face that won’t go away. “I thought you liked honesty, though?” he teases.

Keefe rolls back over in his twist of bedding to glare at his imparter, but it looks more like a pout. “Yeah, but I also like not having a crisis over whether or not—I’m pretending I live in an ideal world that doesn’t hate me, by the way—I want to draw you a bajillion times or paint you a bajillion times or tickle fight you until you’re in hysterics because I like the way your laugh sounds or hug you for an eon normally or hug you for an eon the way we did on the eckodon or if I want to kiss you. And I know that last part’s probably overreacting, but also, I can’t tell if it’s wanting to, like, kiss you on the cheek? Or more than that? Or less? Which makes things harder and way more confusing,”

Dex’s eyebrows aren’t practically touching his hairline, they are touching his hairline. (In spirit. Because eyebrow muscles don’t work like that in the real world. He thinks.) Dex adds You want a REPEAT of the eckodon ride? onto his mental list of conversation topics, then asks the slightly more pressing question he got from Keefe’s rambling: “You want to kiss me?”

Because Keefe Sencen? Renowned heartthrob that had half the girls at Foxfire wrapped around his finger without even trying that hard? Wanting to kiss him? Him? Dex Dizznee? The sheer notion was fucking absurd. Bonkers. Ridiculous.

“I mean—like—listen—okay, just, just let me explain before your brain runs wild, I know how you are,” Keefe splutters.

Dex suppresses a grin at Keefe being the flustered one for once. “Oh, I’m definitely listening.”

“Okay, so, first off, kissing was a brief idea that popped into my head when I thought, How do I show Dex how much I care about him? Kind of like an afterthought. And the original afterthought was, like, impulsively kissing your cheek. In a goofy way. Not full-on making out with you or anything.” Keefe pauses, and two things shift in the meantime: Keefe’s facial expression tipping off of panic into thoughtfulness, and Dex’s facial color gradually sliding from its pale base color to a blush that only gets more vivid as Keefe talks. “Though I probably wouldn’t complain if we made out, but it’s not something I’m yearning for every second of every day or anything. The possibility only just hit me, after all. I want it if you want it, I mean. But if you don’t, I’m all good. We’re all good.”

Dex blinks. Throws all caution to the wind, and thinks about it. Thinks about whether or not he’d like that kind of kissing from Keefe. Keefe would most likely start slow, because that feels like a Keefe thing to do, so Dex imagines that. Imagines how he might feel if they were whispering to directly into each other’s ears instead of each other’s imparters, if Keefe pulled him in for a kiss instead of keeping his distance without compromising himself—

—and almost immediately thinks No thanks. Which is a little odd, since he likes the way Keefe looks and acts, but his stomach hollows out at the idea of another mouth moving over his, no matter how kind the intention. Mashing two mouths together is an overrated display of affection hyped up too much by mom’s romcoms and other romance enthusiasts is the explanation for it that pops up into Dex’s head. The lack of spark or pull that Dex feels towards kissing in general plus the weirdness of textures and germs interacting through mouth to mouth contact probably factors into his opinion too.

Overriding that kind of mind and body instinct feels wrong, so Dex offers up more honesty to Keefe. “I think I’ll pass on the kissing. Making-out kissing, at least. Kissing anyone makes me feel weird—a bad kind of weird, if you get what I mean.”

“Sir yes sir!” Keefe barks out, giving him a cheesy salute, and Dex giggles. “Thank you for making it easier to make my brain shut up about kissing you. The identity crisis prevention is appreciated.”

“Of course, of course,” Dex jests. “But for the record, I don’t think you potentially wanting to kiss boys in general is a bad thing. As long as they’re good for you, y’know?”

Quiet overlays Keefe’s demeanor, and Dex can practically hear the gears in his brain turning. Processing. Then Keefe gives a small smile and says, “Thanks, Dex. I’ll keep it in mind. Buuuuuut,” Keefe claps his hands suddenly, and Dex nearly jumps out of his skin. “I’m not in the mood for heavy introspection right now! Soooo…maybe you could tell me about the things I said that you’d be okay and not okay with instead? For the sake of, like, boundaries and stuff.”

“Ah, yes. Discussing boundaries when we’re both sleep deprived and not thinking straight. Incredibly intelligent move.”

Dex apparently didn’t put enough lightheartedness into his deadpan, because Keefe scrambles to backtrack. “I mean, yeah, you have a point, we can do that sometime later in daylight, or later, or never. Whatever you feel like. No worries.”

“I was joking. We can and probably should talk about it now, even if we’re not 100% functioning,” Dex reassures.

“Okay. Um. Where do you want to start?”

Dex references his mental conversation prep list, and plucks out a relevant item he hasn’t used yet. (He will use the sunshine comment before the end of this hail, or so help him.) “Can we talk about the whole ‘basically wanting a repeat of the eckodon ride’ thing? Because in the moment you seemed pretty eager to end that, and I’m simultaneously confused and curious at your…change of heart, so to speak.”

A hypothesis Dex will never be able to test the accuracy of: If Keefe weren’t under the weak starlight of his bedroom walls and somewhere brighter in this moment, Dex would be able to see a flush crawling over Keefe’s ears. Perhaps even over his cheeks, too. The musing is based on evidence—the hand running through Keefe’s bedhead, the loaded exhale, the averted gaze, the upper teeth worrying his lower lip.

Anxiously, Keefe chants strings of swears under his breath before composing himself a little. “First things first, just to know how much of my dignity I’m losing here at whatever time of night it is right now, can you tell me how often you think about the eckodon ride? And what you think of it, if you do think of it at all?”

Oh god. Dex had not prepped for actually talking about that. At all.

So much for not floundering later on in the conversation, he curses his past self.

“Do you want me to start right now and then just pause and backtrack when I word things wrong, or do you want me to try and get things sorted out before I talk?” Clarification and a counterattack, a delay of the inevitable.

“Take your time,” Keefe murmurs.

Dex does. While Keefe breathes in a purposeful pattern he messes up every now and then, Dex rearranges the scramble of thoughts in his head until every piece is in the right place. And then he double checks to make sure it’s right. And when he thinks Maybe I should triple check, he forces the words out into a freefall and hopes that when they collide into the connection between him and Keefe, it won’t hurt. “Before I get into emotional vulnerability, I would like to say that I still stand by my opinion that your breath stunk. You need to invest in having carry-on breath mints at all times, dude.”

Keefe bursts out laughing, and it’s everything from playful ocean waves curling and splashing at his lower legs on a shoreline walk to distant melodies whispered in the wind. “I’ll do that, next time I go out,” Keefe promises, and for now, only Dex will ever know how big it is to hear Keefe make plans for a more social future he said he’d given up on at the beginning of these nighttime hails. “But only if you do too. Because I swear, your breath rivaled gulon farts, my guy.”

But only if you do too. My guy. It softens Dex like the glow of the stars outside his window. His smile is a crescent in the dark. “Fine, fine, I will. Maybe I’ll make my own and hail you so you can watch alchemy antics.”

“Please do. But finish talking first.”

Dex takes a deep breath. “Okay. Uh. Where was I?”

“Emotional vulnerability, I think?”

Exhale, trace back to which thought he left off on, and go. Hurtle out of comfort and into the brilliantly terrifying unknown. Speak before the end of the fall. “Right, emotional vulnerability time. I don’t think of the eckodon ride every second of every day or anything. But it pops up from time to time. More often when I’m talking to you, of course, but it’s not like I can hear whale songs or see Z-shaped objects without at least briefly thinking about it. As for what I think of the eckodon ride, I think…” Dex falters. Stumbles. His carefully constructed thoughts flutter just out of reach.

What was I thinking earlier? What have I thought about it before? “I think it was nice. Confusingly nice, but nice. I felt—it felt—it was different. A lot more physical contact than I was used to. And I guess I liked looking at you close up more than I was willing to admit before. Noticing little details was interesting—like how long your eyelashes are, since I didn’t really have anywhere to look but your eyes and I usually try to look close to people’s eyes but not quite since I get distracted by their eyes when they talk if I make eye contact, but we weren’t talking, and I just got to look, and—ugh, I’m rambling. That sounds weird. My words aren’t, I dunno what the word is—wording? Right? That’s wrong, but whatever. My words aren’t wording. You get what I mean.”

Dex drags his hands down his face, and grimaces at the light layer of sweat that’s built up there in such a small amount of time. Has the freefall ended yet? Will his stomach please stop hollowing out?

The freefall crashes to an end, and Dex slips out of the wind into into safe waters when Keefe asks, “So you didn’t mind how close we were the whole time?”

With only the moon as a witness, the timidness in Keefe’s voice is clear. With only the moon as a witness, all the air empties out of Dex’s lungs when he says “I didn’t really mind, but I thought you did,” into what feels like six feet underneath the sky.

Thuds pulse loudly in his veins and ears in the real silence. Every gentle slide of fabric moving with the crests and troughs of Dex’s breathing feels like the edge of too much, but Dex doesn’t know which side of the edge it falls onto. Staring at his imparter is too much now, too, so he turns his face into his pillow and swipes his thumb back and forth across his sheets as a nearly futile distraction from his frazzled senses.

Keefe reels him out of it, out of the increasingly weird stimulation levels and the imaginary water. “I didn’t really mind either, and I didn’t know what to do with that, so I shoved you away and jumped to something that I understood. And then I tried not to think about it. Which worked for a while, but then Loamnore happened, and now it’s really hard to not think about how much I miss being close to people, which makes it extra hard to not think about the eckodon ride when I’m around you, and now we’re here.”

A hum vibrates in Dex’s throat; it resonates with all the gadgets scattered around his room on sleep mode. “So originally, you didn’t want to fully process the eckodon ride, but now that you have, you miss that kind of proximity?”

“Yes,” Keefe breathes out a syllable and longing.

“That makes sense,” Dex nods to himself.

Contemplation lulls talking from either end of the line to sleep for a little while, but not Dex. Yet. At some point, Dex’s imparter slipped so that he couldn’t see Keefe and Keefe couldn’t see him. Not focusing on the changes in his expressions and environment, when it’s so late and quiet and Dex woke up at 2am yesterday and hasn’t slept since, makes it a little difficult to stay awake.

“So if I end up being able to handle touching people at some point in the future,” Keefe starts, and Dex starts at the sudden verbalism and the hope in his voice that they both thought he’d lost, “kissing you is a no, but hugs are a yes?”

“Hugs are a yes,” Dex agrees.

“What about, um—” Keefe stops short.

Laziness compels Dex to flick his imparter upright with telekinesis instead of just reaching over and grabbing it. He raises an eyebrow at Keefe. “What about what?”

Dex is the furthest thing the elvin world knows to an empath, and yet. And yet. He can feel Keefe’s embarrassment through the countless miles separating Rimeshire and Splendor Plains. Keefe’s almost completely buried beneath blankets, pressed deep enough into his pillow that only some messy blond tufts are visible.

“This is so stupid,” Keefe grumbles into fabric.

“I think this is rather funny, actually. Hilarious, even,” Keefe can’t see Dex’s shit-eating grin. “Share with the class, Keefe. How were you gonna finish that sentence? Be honest,”

(Dex turns down his imparter volume to the lowest setting. Just in case a certain froster is wandering around the halls with those silent mom feet of hers and walks in at the worst time possible.)

Dex thinks he hears Keefe mumble holding hands, but that seems far too innocent to be correct, so he asks, “What?”

Keefe pops up out of his cocoon. He looks like he wants to shrivel up and disappear to somewhere that’s anywhere but near his imparter. “Holding hands. That’s how I was going to end the sentence.”

Suspicion narrows Dex’s eyes. “Considering the kind of jokes you like to make, I feel like it takes more than the idea of holding hands to get you flustered,”

“Not anymore,”

Dex can’t tell if Keefe is whining or scraping the surface of loneliness that he’s shoved aside for tonight, and decides it’s a good idea to pull him away from that. He can lament his losses when the sun’s there to smatter more freckles along the bridge of his nose. “Getting back to the point—you wanted to know how I felt about you wanting to hold my hand?”

Slowly, Keefe nods.

“I don’t see why it’d be anything to get flustered about. We used to hold hands for light leaping all the time. Extending that doesn’t seem like a huge deal, in this hypothetical.”

“How the fuck are you so chill about this but I’m not,” Keefe says, and yeah, he’s definitely whining now.

Dex laughs. “My serious answer is because 1) I’m not touch starved and 2) we’re talking theoreticals, and my emotions kind of take a backseat during conversations like these so my critical thinking skills can take the wheel, since it feels like there’s no stakes since it’s all, as I said, theoretical. My joking answer, on the other hand, is because I’m cooler than you.”

Keefe cracks a smile. “True, true,”

“Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Is there anything else I said earlier that you’re not cool with?” Keefe returns.

“List it off again?”

“Uhhhh…” What some humans would call Keefe’s ‘Adam’s apple’ bobs as he tips his head back and thinks. He raises one hand and flips up a finger for each item he rattles off. “Stuff we haven’t talked about yet: Me wanting to draw you a bajillion times, me wanting to paint you a bajillion times, me wanting to get into a tickle fight with you just because I like how your laugh sounds, and teeeechnically cuddling?”

This is the kind of thing that Dex should probably have to mull over for a while, but answers come to him oddly easily. “All of those are fine, but I will warn you that I might kick you on instinct if you tickle me too much. Which isn’t that hard. My dad makes fun of me all the time for still being ticklish. He said that Dizznees usually have built up immunity to tickles by my age.”

Keefe blinks. Numerous times. Exaggeratedly. “Normally I’d be losing my mind at you being cool with me using you as a pillow for no reason, but I’m way too stuck on tickle immunity being a thing you can build up.”

Dex forgets to be quiet with his wheezing. “Dude, I have so many whack stories about things me and my family have done that have to do with tickling. Like, my dad said that when he was a level two he’d make elixirs specifically to give him vampire fangs so he could bite his siblings harder when they tried to tickle him,”

The tea kettle monkey screeching hysterical laughter from before comes back with a vengeance, and Dex is very glad his imparter is as quiet as it can be without deafening Keefe out entirely. “I need the full story now,” he gasps out.

“You’re in for a ride,” Dex says, settling into a more comfortable position on his bed. But then he remembers one thing he swore he’d say before this hail ended, and makes sure to look the camera head on when he comments, “Oh, by the way, before I don’t shut up for another three hours, good job getting some sunshine. The freckles look nice on you.”

Horror rounds Keefe’s eyes comically. He frantically runs his fingers along his cheeks as if his aforementioned freckles were braille spelling out some awful message on his face. “You can see them?”

“How else would I know they look nice on you?”

Keefe groans and curls up like the roly poly bugs Dex loved to pick up as a kid. Keefe’s imparter falls forward, and the imparter screen thumps into fuzzy blackness. “I chase Bullhorn around the property so Elwin can have a break for a day one time, and this is how the world rewards me,”

“As I basically told you already: I think it’s a great reward. Anyway. Wanna hear about just how petty my family gets or not?”

“I’m 100% down, Dexy. Hit me with good old storytime.”

Storytelling hasn’t ever really been Dex’s thing, but Keefe doesn’t seem to have high standards, which is nice. (The other explanation is that Dex is better at storytelling than he thinks, which he refuses to believe because he hates being wrong about anything ever.) He laughs more than Dex expected, and insists on getting his sketchbook at one point to draw out certain parts, and then they both giggle so hard they can’t breathe. They gesture and talk and talk and talk until Keefe says his throat and ribs hurt, and Dex agrees on that last part.

Dex’s last thought before his breathing slows and evens out is some hazy musing of how nice it is that he can be Keefe’s person without having to feel hummingbirds or butterflies to get there.

Both of their imparters are on when they fall asleep to soft whirrs and wake up to peaceful daylight.

#qpr keefex fic #but it's the real thing this time!#qpr keefex #keefex #keefe sencen #dex dizznee #kotlc #kotlc fic #keefex fic #keeper of the lost cities #keefex week 2023 #autistic!dex #bisexual!keefe #aroace!dex #keefe feels alterous attraction towards dex in this btw. if i didn't make it obvious enough (sorry if i didn't)#dadwin #forever in mourning of how keefe isn't gonna get adopted by elwin :( ik grady and keefe is good but. KEEFE AND ELWIN [sobs]

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 2 years

Text

Master Of Puppets

Summary: After you’ve been hiding away in your trailer for days, your best friend Eddie Munson comes to check up on you with ice tea and pizza but things take an emotional turn over your shared love for music and singing together.

Pairing: bestfriend!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Romantic Porn With Plot (18+!) | oral (f receiving),fingering, pulling out, a sexual innuendo containing Robert Plant |, Friends To Lovers, Teeth-rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort Vibes, Quite A Good Heap Of Angst, An Ungodly Plethora Of Pet Names Linked To Food, Mentions Of Weed, Talk About Depression, Me Slightly Nerding Out About Music

Word Count: 4.7k (What can I say? My heart has a massive boner for Eddie Munson 🖤)

A/N: Ight, I never really wrote friends to lovers before but here we go! This fic was brought to you by me discovering the existence of watermelon flavored ice tea and devouring a pizza while having absolute Eddie Munson brain rott. Enjoy!

Please consider liking, commenting and reblogging! It means the world to me🌸💞

Feel free to check out my Masterlist!

Tagging: @madstwd thank you for listening to my rambles on Discord and being just as excited as I am about this! @ysmmsy I'm getting to the Animal Kingdom request I swear but can I offer you this in the mean time?

Heavy raindrops hammered onto the roof of your trailer just like the hot tears that were overflowing your lower lash line and cascading down your cheeks. Belly first you had flopped yourself onto your messy bed hours ago and hadn’t really moved since. The oversized Led Zeppelin shirt you counted as one of your very favorites didn’t give you any of the comfort you were longing for so desperately today.

Today wasn’t exactly your day. That’s what you were telling yourself for at least two weeks now. All energy seemed lost, sleep was something that rarely happened and maintaining some sort of social life was clearly out of question entirely. Oh, it had been getting really bad for you again but you refused to accept that this depressive episode was actually happening. You didn’t want it to, of course, but the situation of you laying with one side of your face pressed to the mattress while silently crying told a different story and the rainy madness going on outside served you just fine.

With your trusty teddy bear pressed closely to your chest, you let out a long and tired groan oozing with discomfort. You needed to get a grip, to take a hold of the situation - of yourself for that matter- but the exhaustion of simply being awake that now inhabited each and every muscle didn’t let you. Everything seemed to be too much of an effort. Taking a shower and getting at least halfway dressed 4 hours ago had already felt like running a marathon and you still couldn’t be bothered with getting up again.

Rubbing your puffy face against the sheets to haphazardly wipe away a new flush of tears, you got interrupted by a fast and stern knock on your door. You didn’t react to it with any more than a puzzled frown.

“Ey, pumpkin! Open up!” The muffled voice of a certain Eddie Munson rang through the thin walls.

Your closest friend since you set foot into Hawkins High hammered his palm against the door again after you said or did absolutely nothing.

“C’mon, I know you are there!” he argued, “You left your bathroom light on.”

From an indistinct point where you’d been busy staring holes into the air, your gaze shot down the short floor to your bathroom door and Eddie was right. A telltale beam of soft, warm light illuminated the gap between the door and the wooden ground.

“Fuck…” You muttered under your breath but still didn't bother to move. Maybe he’d let you alone if you just did nothing long enough.

“Hey, I’m getting wet out here, sweet pea!” Eddie tried to convince you, “But you know what’s worse? That nice, hot pepperoni pizza I’m having here is getting soggy if you don’t open up soon.”

“Hmm…” You pondered with yourself for a moment at the announcement of hot pizza in your severe lack of breakfast or lunch.

“May I add that I brought ice tea and a fat joint too?” You could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice even through the thundering rain, “That’s a deal you absolutely DO NOT want to miss!”

“Smug asshole.” You sighed while rolling your eyes. He got you and both of you knew.

“ALRIGHT, jeez.” You answered eventually before you rolled yourself onto your back and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

You knew that you probably looked like you got hit by a bus and that Eddie would turn to-the-moon-and-back concerned in no time but in exchange for a good slice of pepperoni pizza and a hit of pot you felt somewhat ready to handle that.

After you finally dragged yourself off the bed, you waddled towards the front door. Before you opened it, you took one deep breath to steady yourself for the wave of worried attention that was about to hit you.

“Can’t even mope around in peace, can I?” You started with a humoristic remark to play right over your disheveled looks.

“Love you too, pumpkin-” Eddie was about to lean in and press an obligatory smooch to your forehead but he stopped right in his tracks as his deep brown eyes locked with yours.

He inspected you for a moment before his eyes dropped down to your hands. Chapped black nail polish, chewed off fingernails and sore cuticles from nervously picking away at the delicate skin. He didn’t need to see more to know what was going on. Eddie had seen you like this plenty of times. He was the only one you’d let close enough into your life to see you like that.

“Oh..” It left his lips in a soft murmur.

You knew that he wasn’t passing any judgment over the state you were in yet it still pulled at your heartstrings to see the apprehension in his features rising.

“Alright.” He shrugged his leather jacket-clad shoulders ever so slightly to snap himself out of his thoughts “Let’s get you to eat and drink something.”

With that you stepped back and made room for him to enter the trailer you called home. Without further ado, Eddie passed you by, heading for the bedroom where you watched him toss the pizza box onto the mattress before sliding his backpack off. It hit the floor with a dull thud, indicating at least two bottles of the advertised ice tea.

Without saying anything, you followed your friend, taking a seat right next to the pizza carton from where you watched him roaming around in your shelves like he lived here himself. It didn’t bother you because he was allowed to and there was nothing hidden between books, vinyls and VHS tapes Eddie hadn’t seen yet. After flipping through a carefully collected and cherished array of Mötley Crüe, Led Zeppelin and last but not least Queen records, he reached your Metallica vinyls at the end of the shelf. With a gentle yet professional frown he pondered over Kill ‘Em All before his finger hovered towards the striking blue cover sleeve of Ride The Lightning. His lips pouted slightly as his eyes switched from Ride The Lightning to the newest addition to your collection: Master Of Puppets.

54 glorious minutes of head-banging, vocal-cord-trashing, toe-curling metal goodness straight from the heavens.

It had taken about one listen to it for Eddie and you to hopelessly fall under its spell.

“Go ahead, we both know it’s going to be Master Of Puppets anyway.” You tried to joke as you reached down to grab his backpack.

In a swift pull you dragged it towards you, unzipped it and fished for the ice tea.

“Watermelon?!” You arched your brows to a skeptical frown, “Where the hell did you get watermelon flavored ice tea, Eds?”

“At the store, duh.” Eddie winked at you in a teasing manner, “I thought we’d be a bit experimental and try something new.”

“Experimental sounds about right..” You muttered, unscrewed the bottle and took a deep swig.

“And?” Eddie looked at you in expectation before you had even swallowed.

“It’s not…bad.” You confessed after unconsciously smacking your lips and rolling your tongue against the top of your mouth for the fruity sweet aftertaste to spread.

“Let me have some.” He stretched out his hand for you to give him the bottle.

After handing it to him, you watched his expression as he put the bottle to his lips. Similar to you, Eddie seemed pleasantly surprised at the comfortably leveled out taste of watermelon and sweetened tea. He took another drag before his attention wandered back to the vinyl he was about to plop onto the record player. A familiar, softly flickering sound emitted from the speakers as soon as the needle hit the black vinyl disc for a few seconds before the treacherously calm, somber intro melody to Battery set in. You didn’t notice it at first, but the way Eddie swayed his head from side to side in nothing but sheer acknowledgement of good music elicited a smile to form around your lips. It was an honest and effortless smile that nearly went unnoticed if it wasn’t for Eddie taking a glimpse at it from the corner of his eye.

“Look at that.” He chuckled with a tinge of relief in his tone “All it takes is ice tea, some pizza and Metallica to get you smiling!”

“Don’t forget about yourself, Munson. You deserve some credit too.” At the mention of pizza your fingers wandered out to open the box and tear a warm piece from the cheese and pepperoni loaded circle.

“Some?” He raised his brows at you before a wide grin took over.

“Yeah, some.” You repeated yourself as he slumped onto the mattress next to you and took a slice of pizza for himself.

For a moment both of you were simply chewing away while James Hetfield’s voice thundered through the speakers alongside shredding guitar riffs. By now both of you knew the record by heart and if it hadn’t been for your pizza-stuffed mouths you’d have sung along and most likely tried to imitate every waaaaah and weeeee of the guitars too. After you basically devoured the first slice of oven-baked goodness, you sighed a little and turned your heads towards Ed, who almost looked like chewing off his fingers alongside the pizza crust if he didn’t pay close attention. The sight in front of you drew an amused giggle from you before you stated what you wanted him to know: “Thanks for stopping by, Eddie.”

Chugging down the last bite, he looked at you with a warm, gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Sweet pea, I haven’t seen you in days and I got really worried. That’s the least I could do. In fact, I think I should’ve stopped by way sooner if I had known what’s going on.” He lazily licked the grease of his fingers before he added, “Do you want to talk about it?”

At that you shrugged your shoulders and scrunched your nose a little.

“Not now…I’m just happy that you are here.”

“Okay.” Eddie nodded and his eyes started beaming at you with a sparkle that was unique to him “Do you want to sing along to Master Of Puppets instead?”

It was the second track of the record and your personal favorite, closely followed by Welcome Home (Sanitarium).

“Eddie Munson on the background vocals?” You asked, the beam of joy in his eyes being positively contagious.

“Hell yeah, baby!” With a nod of his head he practically jumped from the bed as Battery was nearing its end.

The two of you were barely given a break to catch your breath before the intro riff kicked in and sent you into absolutely feral heavy metal overdrive. You couldn’t help the massive grin spreading on your face as you witnessed just how much Eddie put his whole heart into throwing his curly, fuzzy mess of hair back and forth to the pushing beat. He made being happy and carefree look like such an effortless thing to do. Bouncing back and forth like a bouncy ball he shook the weight of the world from his shoulders, appearing untouchable to any form of anxiety, pain or dread. It seemed as if the music resonating through your bedroom made him invincible and as much as you loved seeing him all spaced out like that it struck a nerve within that had turned very sore lately. You wanted that too, wanted to just let go of everything and anything for the music to sweep you right off your feet. You wanted it so bad that you took a good gasp of air and closed your eyes, getting ready for your very favorite part of the song.

After the first solo faded into a hammering, almost march-like beat, you steadied yourself and felt your heart drop as Eddie shouted alongside James Hetfield: “Master, Master!”

“Where’s the dreams that I’ve been after?” You shouted in return, feeling how the words settled right in your stomach, twisting it in every possible direction.

“Master, Master!”

“You promised only lies!” Not the music but the truth behind those lyrics started knocking you off your feet.

“Laughter, Laughter!”

“All I hear or see is laughter!” Your voice rendered into a choked back sob.

“Laughter,Laughter!”

“Laughing at my cries!” In a hasty gasp you tried to fill your lungs with the necessary oxygen before the last line was about to crush you.

In a helpless wail you didn’t know your body was capable of, you practically screamed: “Fix me!”.

Two words to wrap up the verse you had tossed and turned in your mind countless times. Two words that had left your lips while singing together with Eddie umpteenth times but this time they felt like ripping all your pain right out of your chest. It felt like a plug being pulled with all the clogged up torment, dirt and emotional mud behind it now oozing out of you.

This was nothing short of real, physical pain and your eyes shot open just to realize that you were crying again. A wave of nearly scorching hot tears erupted from your eyes, the desperation behind it crashing through your entire body and for a moment you were sure to lose your balance at the earthquake of emotions surging through your veins.

Through the tears you barely made out Eddie who was looking at you in what could only be described as utter consternation. For a handful of ragged breaths, time appeared to stand still for the both of you. Nobody dared to move as the tears fell from your face to soak the collar of your shirt and the second guitar solo cut through your sobs.

The sound of those two last words was still ringing in your ears as you recognised how Eddie leaped towards you. Your brain refused to understand what was happening as his warm hands cupped your face with his hands and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips with bruising force. Compared to the emotional earthquake this felt absolutely earth-shattering but in the best way possible. It wasn’t the first time Eddie kissed you, but it never happened like that. This wasn’t a slurry and sloppy smooch on your lips while both of you were drunk off your asses at a bonfire in the woods and this surely wasn’t a gentle peck of appreciation on your forehead. You had never dared to tell him that you never minded the clumsy drunk kisses at parties let alone ask for more of them. You didn’t want to ruin this friendship and if that meant keeping your mouth shut about fantasizing over hasty drunk kisses from your best friend you rolled with that.

Before he could break from the kiss or even just so much as think about it, you reached out to grab a fist-full of his shirt underneat the jacket and pulled him impossibly closer to your trembling body, reciprocating his kiss over and over. Instead of words, you let your bodies do the talking as your free hand got lost in his shaggy curls. You had touched his hair a million times before but this time it felt different. You knew how he smelled, leather, weed and a hint of flowery fabric softener, but right in that moment it hit you in a way it never did before. He seeped right into you, the way his plush lips felt against yours, his smell that was home to you, and sealed every crack in your pained heart with just him being there, kissing you like there wouldn’t be another tomorrow for the two of you.

Instead of more tears falling from your cheeks, you felt a blazing warmth spread in your chest. Every time his lips crashed onto yours, every time Eddie playfully nibbled at your bottom lip and every time the tip of his nose brushed against yours it sent little lightning bolts through your stomach right down to the building heat between your legs. Your loose shorts weren’t giving you any friction to ease the pulsing ache that kept growing.

With your hand still tightly fisting and effectively crumpling his shirt, you pulled Eddie with you, both of you stumbling backwards to the edge of your bed. You slumped onto the mattress back first, the bed frame creaking under the impact of Eddie crushing down onto it right with you.

“You better get those clothes off, Munson.” This demand was the only legit reason to break away from him as you scooted towards the head of the mattress.

“Right away, pumpkin.” He mumbled back with an out of breath voice, his eyes trained on you as you pulled your shirt over your head.

“Stop.” Eddie suddenly interrupted right before you were to wiggle off the shorts and you immediately froze in your movement.

“What?” It burst right out of you in worry that he abruptly came to the conclusion that this situation wasn’t something he wanted to entertain anymore.

“I wanna do that myself..” He answered, that shit-eating grin that you had been able to hear through the rain as he knocked on your door returning to his face.

You let out a relieved sigh as you watched him get out of the jacket. His shirt followed in an instant accompanied by a pair of shoes being tossed to the side. You could hardly pull yourself together as your eyes roamed over his body, admiring his tattoos. You wanted to touch him so bad, to gently sink your teeth into the crook of his neck and leave love bites and hickeys all over his throat and chest.

Eddie took his time to slip his socks off, to unbuckle his belt and pull his ripped jeans down alongside his shorts and with every second passing you felt closer to simply combusting from the flaming desire to feel his skin on yours.

“Eds, please!” You groaned as he stepped out of the fabric pooling at his ankles.

“Patience, babe.” He chuckled, kneeling onto the mattress while his hands reached out to grab your thighs just right above your knees.

It was a soft grasp around your skin and yet it made you shiver with goosebumps washing over you. He squeezed your flesh tenderly before his fingers wandered upwards to the hem of your shorts. You bit your bottom lip to hold back an excited moan but that was to no use. It slipped right out of your mouth, motivating Eddie to just grab the damned fabric and tear it down your legs. With your ass lifted, the waistband slipped right down and the piece of clothing off your body. Just before he threw the shorts to the side, Eddie just looked at you, taking in the sight in front of him.

“You’re beautiful..” It spilled out of his mouth, unfiltered and in all honesty.

“I can only say the same about you, pretty boy.” You responded and felt your heart nearly leap out of your ribcage as Eddie blushed ever so slightly at your compliment.

It took him a moment to snap out of it but as soon as he did he went after you like a vulture, his hands shooting out to wrap themselves around your hips while he lowered his face to your stomach, peppering it with kisses that left a trail downwards. Feeling his lips nip at the sensitive inside of your thighs threatened to knock the air out of your lungs and there wasn’t much missing for you to tear holes through the sheets. In agonizingly slow movements he kissed his way closer to your soaked cunt and you were sure to be leaking onto the fabric underneath you by now.

“God, Eddie, please!” You heard yourself beg for his touch and he granted you your wish.

In a loving caress he pushed his soft lips to your throbbing clit before he slowly opened his mouth for his tongue to dart out and part your folds with one languid stroke. Like a man parched he lapped at you with the full width of his tongue and you could’ve sworn to see stars behind your fluttering eyelids. He was so utterly careful yet determined in his way of handling your body that it drove you straight to the edge of sanity. You could barely grasp a thought as he switched to drawing circles with the tip of his tongue and you felt a curious thumb softly ghosting over your cunt. The muscles inside started twitching and the mere thought of it and you couldn’t help yourself but to arch your hip into his direction as he pushed into you. Feeling his thumb inside of you set every nerve on fire and you knew you wouldn’t last long if he started moving. For a moment Eddie just let it stay like this, feeling your heat from the inside but soon enough he gently pulled it back out, leaving you to clench around nothing as his finger played around the entrance, not entirely drawing back but also not plunging in again. You didn’t know that you could want him even more at that point but he proved you wrong, keeping you right at the edge of ecstasy until you could hardly take it anymore. The coil of tense muscles in your lower abdomen so ready to burst at any second now that you silently pleaded for that one necessary stroke to hit you just right. You wiggled your ass in his firm grip, desperately trying to get more friction out of anything but it was a fruitless attempt. Eddie toyed with your body ready to trip over the edge until you were nothing but a mewling mess underneath him, voice equally sore as your overstimulated muscles now. It almost felt as if you were ready to cry again but this time out of frustration while the need for release grew by the second. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment. Your mind was entirely devoid of words let alone thoughts and the only thing you wanted was for your body to snap and spasm in an overdue orgasm.

For one last time you focused all the attention left in you to angle your hips towards Eddie's face that remained buried between your trembling thighs. Picking right up on that, he shoved his thumb back into you in the same motion, thrusting you over the edge straight into a firework of unleashed pleasure that ignited every single nerve ending in your body. You couldn’t say if you ever came that hard before but it was for sure that you never brought yourself to just that height alone. It wasn’t only your body getting swept by a rush of bliss but your heart bursting with unfiltered love and joy too. The crushing tide of emotions and hormones washed right through you and for a heavenly blink of an eye made you forget about everything before you fell back to planet earth, gasping for air and eyes wide open.

Your gaze immediately fell to Eddie who’s mouth and chin were drenched in your release as he rose from between your legs, pulling his thumb out of you and scooting up to you to press a wet kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself and you weren’t sure if that ever happened before either.

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, Eds.” You breathlessly mumbled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I hope not!” He smiled softly, his teeth playfully nagging at your bottom lip “I’m not going to give anything of this to the sweet ol’ Reaper anytime soon.”

“Well, if you keep on doing me like that you better have a good negociacion strategy ready because you’ll need it!” Although every muscle still felt sore and heavy, you wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him in closer.

A breathy moan escaped his mouth as his cock brushed through your overstimulated folds.

“Uuuh, do that again. It’s giving Robert Plant.” You couldn’t hold back an amused snort as the very much intrusive thought slipped right out of your mouth.

At first you couldn’t quite decipher what Eddie's facial expression regarding that was trying to tell you because the comment hit him just as unexpectedly as it fell from your lips but as he leaned in to caress the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose, he moaned right into it, his hot breath breezing down your neck while pushed himself into you. Feeling him glide inside you while everything still felt hypersensitive had you clawing your hands to his back.

“Fuck!” You huffed into the crook of his neck before latching your teeth into his warm and soft skin.

The gentle yet firm bite elicited another moan that got lost in your ear and a heavy thrust of his hips as he started fucking into you with reckless abandon. He left you no time to catch a breath and railed you into the mattress instead. As if you pushed one of his buttons just right with that, your lips wandered further up his neck to place another bite at his pulse point while your fingernails dug into the tender skin of his back.

“Woman!” Eddie groaned at the bits of pain you inflicted.

“Yes, sir!” You chuckled in return.

“If you do that again I can’t promise that I can pull out, pumpkin.” His mumbled words send a shiver down your spine and for a moment you actually pondered to do it again right there and then to feel him come undone inside of you.

Although the two of you were stupid dumbasses and very much stupid dumbasses for each other… you weren’t that stupid. So instead you soothed the forming bite mark with careful, loving kisses as Eddie thrusted into you, chasing his own climax with relentless fervor. Feeling him that close effectively wiped away every dark thought that had been haunting your mind, depriving you of a good night's sleep and even infesting your dreams when you were lucky enough to get some. Right now there was only him and you refused to have it any other way ever again. Eddie had complimented you as a friend for sure but whatever this here was, it made you feel whole for once.

“Damnit!” Eddie’s hoarse voice ripped you out of your thoughts and sensations, “Fuck, imma…”

Biting his lower lip he nearly ripped himself away from you, pulling out of you just in time to spill his release all over your belly. His seed splattered out in warm, sticky ropes onto your slightly sweaty skin.

“Holy shit…” He practically collapsed onto you with a huff, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and hugging you so tight as if you were to disappear into thin air if he’d let go of you for just one second.

At that you wrapped your arms around his torso as firm as you could without squeezing him to death.

“Eddie?”

“Huh?”

“You wanna know a secret?”

“Uh-hu…”

“I love you.”

“I know, you told me.”

In an amused kinda way you rolled your eyes.

“Not like that, idiot, I mean really love you.”

“Oh…”, His breath hitched every so slightly “I love you too, sweet pea.”

“Pumpkin, sweet pea… are you hungry or something?” You snickered while your heart felt like skipping more than just one beat at his words.

“Maybe….my cute little marshmallow, my favorite piece of cake, my flaming hot chicken wing, my-”

“Oh fuck off, Munson!”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson × reader #eddie munson × you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #bestfriend!Eddie munson

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tragiclilb · 2 years

Text

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ YOUR NAME ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

(Alex can’t get your name out of his mouth)

(Warnings: fluff, lots, horrible amounts, drinking)

(A/n: Yes I know this should have been more than a oneshot unfortunately i’m a little bitch who refuses)

(Words: 1858)

“Please I swear it will be fun!” He said pulling me into his room.

“Alex, you said that the last party. And we know how that turned out.” I said giving him a telling look.

In the past 4 months he’s had a track record of bad party experiences. He for some reason couldn’t leave a party with out making a girl mad. Each girl seemingly not only furious with him but me as well after. I just have learned to assume it’s because I’m his best mate but, it still always felt a bit odd.

We would go to a party, he would get shit faced, and 2 hours later I would have a girl storming up to me, saying I should deal with him. And I was not looking forward to spending my Friday like that this time.

“Please I’ll do anything. I just need you there.” He said giving me a pouty look. His dark, shoulder length hair falling in-front of his face. Sometimes he’s just so exhausting.

“Oh fine. But this is the last party, I swear.”

“Thank you! Well, we better get going, we’re already late.” He smiles wide and drags me to the car.

“So you sleeping over at mine?” I make sure to ask ahead of time. Knowing I’ll be driving home.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He nods pulling his jacket back in place after the buckle tossed it around. He starts the engine and rolls away driving down a few streets to the house party.

We pull up and immediately I can see it’s already packed. We walk in, the music pounding are ears. It’s some trashy pop song that came out last year. We both looked at each other and laughed a bit at the sound.

“I’ll go get us some drinks, okay?” He yells over the noise.

“Okay sounds good.” I say and he walks away to the kitchen.

I wander around for a while looking to see if I could finds anyone I know. Old friends from when we where in school always tend to show up at these things.

I search around till at the stairs I see Emma, one of my said school friends. She meets my eyes and runs down the stairs her long blonde hair swaying behind her. She was still as gorgeous as ever. She was the type of person in school who everyone was drawn to. She was insanely popular, but kind as well. It’s almost annoying.

“Hi, how have you been.” She smiles.

“Pretty good actually, I’ve been traveling around with the boys for a while. Where back in town for a break though.” I explain and she nods smirking to herself.

“You still hopelessly in love with turner?” She laughs and I fight the urge to smack my hands over her mouth.

“Shhhh, he’s somewhere around here, also we don’t talk about that. It was years ago.” I say looking around panicked. Hoping he didn’t overhear.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry, it was a sweet crush though, you where head over heels.” She giggles, just then I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“For who?” Alex asks innocently, obviously already multiple drinks in.

“No one, just an old school crush.” I say covering for myself. He looks at me with suspicious eyes. He probably noticed he was staring to long so he shakes his head looking down. The drinks obviously getting to him.

“Hey come on, let’s do shots.” He says getting out of his momentary funk grabbing my shoulders.

“Alex, I’m staying sober tonight, you know this. I have to drive you home.” I say and he sighs loudly.

“Your no fun.” He runs his hands through his hair letting go of me and walking to the counter. He takes 3 more shots and scoffs. I feel bad so I walk over to him leaning against the counter next to him. He puts his hand out for me and I grab it. He fiddles with my fingers. Picking at my nail polish which I’ll just have to re apply later.

“I’m sorry for dragging you along, I know you don’t like this stuff.” He says turning to look at me.

“It’s okay, I’m pretty sure I go anywhere you go anyways.” I say jokingly and he smiles to himself getting pink in the face. Probably the alcohol heating him up. He looks back up to my eyes.

“You…. You have really pretty eyes.” He says looking dazed. He makes it so hard to forget about my feelings. He loves to say horribly sweet things when he’s out of it. It’s another reason I didn’t want to come to the party. It hurts hearing him say things I wish he actually felt, only for him to go try and make out with random girls a few minutes later.

“Yeah yeah okay, I’m gonna go get you some water.” I say and go to the back yard looking for a cooler.

Much to my dismay the cooler happened to be In the front yards for some reason. So after 10 minutes of traveling between people and searching for it, I found it and grabbed a few waters. I’m about to walk back in the kitchen when Emma walks up to me.

“Your not gonna believe this. Alex just tried to make out with me. I mean he didn’t hide how insanely drunk he was so his oddness makes sense.” She says looking uncomfortable.

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” I apologize for my best friends behavior.

“You know, he said something weird.” She enquirers.

“Huh?”

“He asked if He could call me your name.” She says funnily.

“Are you kidding?” I say shocked.

“No I swear. I mean he seemed so upset when I walked in the kitchen. He was downing a drink and I asked if he was okay. He kept asking where you had gone.”

“He so dramatic, I told him I was getting water.”

“He was probably to out of it. But I swear he sounded like you used to in school. Him getting all gushy about you.” She laughs. “I swear he’s just as infatuated with you as you where with him. Asking to call me your name and such.” She explains and my eyes go wide. I mean that’s insane right? We’ve been best friends since children.

“Why wouldn’t he just say something to me about it then?” I ask tuning my hand across my face, stressed. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I still felt the same. Watching him over these past few years. Performing the way he does. Getting to sit on the side and watch him. The way his hair fell as he played the guitar. Or the smooth sound of his voice ringing through my ears. He’s entrancing really.

But he always seemed so out of reach when it came to my feelings. He was a star. Who had all the options he wanted. Groupies and such. Why would he want me? So I never acted.

“Well, why didn’t you?” She says giving me a knowing look. “I think you should go speak to him.” She pats my shoulder and sends me into the kitchen. I walk in and I see him hunched over the counter fiddling with an empty shot glass. I walk over taking the shot glass out of his hands, setting it down. I grab his hand and lead the pouting man through the crowd, back out to the car.

“Why are we leaving so soon?” He asks slurred.

“Sweetheart, your drunk of your ass.”

“That’s beside the point.” He rolls his eyes, a big yawn taking over a few seconds later.

He leans his head on my shoulder and without answering his question I drive back to my place. Somehow I get him upstairs into bed without him passing out.

“Darling…” he says his hair falling over his eyes as he lays down.

“Yeah.” I say in the doorway about to head to the couch.

“I wrote a song about you.” He softly grins.

“Oh yeah? Can I hear it?”

“Maybe one day.” He giggles to himself and I can tell he’s to far gone.

“Goodnight Alex.” I say closing the door and going out to the couch.

When I woke the next morning I saw Alex sitting in the chair by the couch. He was drinking something hot as I could see the steam from the cup. I sat up and rubbed my eyes yawning.

“Morning.” He says softly as I get up and walk to the counter boiling some water, and grabbing a tea bag.

“Morning.” I respond in the same soft manner.

“Could we talk about last night.” He asks as I sit back down.

“Yeah I actually wanted to speak about that.” I say and he seams nervous.

“Alex… why did Emma from school tell me you asked to call her my name, before kissing her?” I said being quite blunt with it. If I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

“I- oh god, I’m a mess when I’m drunk aren’t I?” He says trying to laugh it off.

“Alex, be honest with me here, cause I don’t understand how you can say all theses complements and being dare I say flirtatious one minute, and then going and asking to call girls my name if you don’t feel some way…. About me.” I say cautiously. If this goes wrong I’m losing my best friend.

“You’re not wrong.” He says awkwardly.

“I’m not?” I say a bit flabbergasted. But mostly relieved.

“You just… hypnotize me. I can’t explain it. I don’t even know why it took me so long to realize it to be honest.” He says tucking his hair behind his ears. His dark eyes where big, almost surprised at the fact he was saying what he was saying out loud.

“But these past few months, I keep trying to tell you, but I would say something and you’d shoot me down. I would go find some girl to take my mind off you. But it never works. Cause….. cause there not you.”

Oh.

“I’ve loved you since I was thirteen.” I say and I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face flash into a smile so big.

“Well that’s bloody good to hear.” He says.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, it’s just, you could chose anyone you wanted. Girls fawn over you. I just didn’t think it’d be me.” I say honestly and he gets up walking over to me.

“You daft woman.” He says scanning my face. I was confused for a second till he placed a hand to my cheek. His fingers ruff from the years of guitar. His eyes bore into mine making my knees week as he pulled me up. He placed a innocent kiss to my lips. It was almost like an apology for lost time we could of had if we where smarter. It was slow and sensual. His finger tips ended up in my hair as we pulled away.

“I’m infatuated with you.” He grins and I smile wide.

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