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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 2 years ago

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*throws this onto the tumblr and then collapses*

GOD

THIS TOOK SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT I’M SO SORRY

SO ANYWAYS y’all remember when I said I owed everyone an Elimetri car makeout sesh on the homoerotic Mexico road trip, due to the gi-throwing business in 4x10 necessitating more Elimetri-Keenry parallels (I think in this post here)??? WELL, I was listening to the song Robby and Tory smooched to (this one, if you’re curious) and realized that, hilariously, it’s also an Elimetri song--hence the inspiration for this chapter! I’m doubling down on the car makeout parallels in every possible way and rest assured I have NO shame about it.

As always, big thank you to @xgardensinspace for helping with Spanish translations, the names of local flora and fauna, and giving me the idea of having Demetri find his own Bird Alter Ego! XD Also for informing me that there are an abundance of mangrove trees right around Demetri and Eli’s makeout spot, thus for better or for worse re-awakening my Rabid Ecology Nerd tendencies and making me feel the need to include them in the plot in some way XD

So someone in the Elimetri fandom mentioned they had a headcanon about Kyler knowing the binary boys since kindergarten, so I took that and rolled with it. Mans has been terrorizing our favorite gay nerds since grade school, and has no intention of stopping anytime soon!

Also trust me when I say that The Incident they talk about really is not too far off from how American elementary schools handle bullying...or at least how mine did -______- Like these bitch ass teachers will really have the audacity to say they “don’t care who started it” and then punish kids for retaliating to defend themselves, it’s insane

Some references to the Eli-looking-at-Demetri’s-lips scene in 2x09 because MY GOD like HOW do you explain that in a heterosexual way??? Like it’s such a bizarre acting choice if that scene was meant to be entirely platonic??? Like it absolutely read like Demetri was about to suck it up and finally tell Eli how he felt and Eli was like. Kinda down for it. If only Moon being nearby hadn’t fooled Eli into thinking he was Still Straight and dashed Dem’s hopes ;______;

Welp I really wanted to get this chapter out before S5 dropped, because it’s very saucy and that’s what the lads deserve, so...mission accomplished, I guess? XD

Quick disclaimer that I don’t mean SAUCY saucy because I am asexual af and have no desire to write straightuplegitexplicitsmut, but...this is defs the chapter where the sexy talk is the most blatant and direct lmaoooo

Anyways, read on for a deeper look at Eli’s vendetta against dioramas, another peek into Demetri and Yasmine’s doomed fling, and Demetri coming to a rather alarming realization!

Chapter 1: Here

Chapter 2: Here

Chapter 3: Here

Chapter 4: Here

Chapter 5: Here

All 5 previous chapters are also posted on my AO3, SummerPhlox!

Be warned, this chapter is a longboi!!! 9000+ words because I apparently have no chill! D:

***

The dashboard is warm against Demetri’s arms as he leans into it, the poor plastic still recovering from being cooked by desert sun all day. Sighing, he gazes out past the edge of the parking lot.

It isn’t a bad view. A tangle of fern-leaved green shrubs on the edge of the hill, a scraggly magenta bougainvillea tree, and the sprawling ocean beyond. It’s turning a paler blue as the sun lowers in the sky, sending golden ripples across the water.

Quite the spectacular luck they found this place. The GPS took them on some hilly backroad while trying frantically to avoid highway traffic, and they ended up stumbling on an empty parking lot right on the precipice of an overlook. Probably for a national park or something—if Mexico had national parks, anyhow.

In any case, no one seems interested in admiring out-of-the-way views or taking secluded hikes at 8 pm. He and Eli have the place to themselves.

Demetri shakes his head. “I cannot believe we made it here before sundown, with all the detours we took today.”

“Demetri, we took one detour. For, like, an hour.” He glances over to see his friend giving him an annoyed look.

“But we didn’t leave until 9 this morning,” Demetri retorts. “Per your request, I might add.”

“And yet here we are.” Eli smirks. “In Mazatlán, watching a beach sunset with no one to bother us. How do you find things to complain about when there isn’t anything to complain about?”

“Oh, I’m not complaining. I’m just shocked is all.” He whistles. “I must have been speeding on those highways more than I thought.”

Eli snickers. “Demetri the law-defying daredevil. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten any enigmatic Spanish tickets yet. Why would we start now?”

To his surprise, Demetri finds himself easily smirking back. Some of his usual paranoia must be on vacation right now.

Eli’s eyes flick out the passenger window, and Demetri follows his gaze. Just past the bluff, the city sprawls out below them, yellow lights starting to blink on as the day fades.

It’s Eli’s turn to look concerned. His brow knits, and he glances back at Demetri.

“You sure we’ll find a hotel?”

“Oh, please.” Demetri rolls his eyes. “Half the people who come here this time of year are the lazy, irresponsible beach bum tourist type. You think they’re going to have the foresight to make hotel reservations?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“We’ll be fine. I mean, we’re not staying in the Hilton or anything, but there’s some run-down ‘luxury hotel’ on every corner here.”

“Fair enough.”

Eli leans back in his seat, body slumping as he exhales.

A small, stilt-legged bird flutters over the bluff, landing on one of the scraggly bougainvillea branches. The creature fluffs up pale brown and white feathers as he begins to prune, nibbling at himself with a long, needle-like bill.

His head flicks up, catching sight of the car with tiny, dark eyes. The bird does not take the news well. He bobs his neck and tail up and down, letting out a series of shrill, high-pitched chirps not unlike chihuahua yaps. Even with rolled-up car windows, the bird’s infuriated cries refuse not to be heard.

“Hey, look.” Eli sniggers. “It’s you as a bird.”

“What!” Demetri scoffs. “How?!”

Eli shrugs. “Gangly. Neck too long. Weird, fussy neat freak. Loud. Never shuts up. Jerks every which way while never shutting up.”

“I do not jerk every which way when I talk!” Demetri insists, practically banging the back of his hands on the steering wheel as he frantically gestures to prove his point.

Eli breaks out laughing. “You just did!”

“That doesn’t count! That was very coordinated movement!”

“You…almost smacked both your hands at once.”

“But I didn’t!”

Outside, the bird continues to squawk away, as if the sound’s power can send the unwanted car careening back toward the huisache and fern-encrusted hillside across the road.

“He really won’t shut his mouth, huh?” Eli clicks his tongue. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

Demetri rolls his eyes, shooting his friend a searing look. “In any case,” he mutters. “I can’t believe we’re getting into a game of chicken with a fucking shorebird.”

“Good story for Miguel, at least.” Eli smirks. “I can’t wait to tell him all about the time Human Demetri lost to Bird Demetri.”

“Oh, I am not losing this one,” Demetri growls. He leans against the steering wheel and glares out at the lanky bird, now marching back and forth on ridiculous bright yellow legs.

“At least after a while you can tune him out,” Eli says. “Just like your subpar—”

Demetri punches his arm before he can finish, and Eli bursts out laughing again.

The bird continues to yap away, patrolling the tree branch and shooting them dirty looks. After the creature seems to finally accept he cannot rid himself of the humans and their great metal beast, he gives one last defiant fluff of his wings and flutters away.

“Seems like that’s a win for Human Demetri, Eli,” Demetri says smugly, crossing his arms. His friend sneers disapprovingly, but doesn’t argue.

Not far off, a flock of shorebirds is traversing the bay, yellow stilt legs dangling underneath them. Demetri catches glimpses of flickering wings glowing white and amber in the dying sunlight. The bird from the bougainvillea tree sweeps off in their direction, squawking a greeting as he goes.

“Ah, shit.” Eli leans against the dashboard, eyes suddenly eager. “If there’s that many shorebirds around here, there’s probably mangroves, too.”

“Mangroves?” Demetri raises his eyebrows. “Are those fair game to talk about again?”

“Why wouldn’t they b—you think I’m still pissed about the 4th grade diorama project?!” Eli’s buzzed head whips around to glare at him, blue eyes genuinely offended. “I’m not a fucking baby! That shit was years ago. I’m over it.”

“I just figured. Ya know.” Demetri makes a face. “Bad association?”

Eli rolls his eyes. “Maybe for you. I’m 17, Demetri—I’m not gonna bawl over a swamp tree the way I did when I was 10.”

Demetri scoffs. Eli’s slipped into the old habit of being prickly and difficult when he doesn’t want to open up, and Demetri’s not having it. If Eli wants to hide away in a stone-walled cave, then Demetri supposes he’ll have to grab a pickaxe and play some fucking Minecraft.

He groans, leaning against the back of the driver’s seat. “For years you aggressively changed the subject every time that whole thing came up. You think I didn’t notice?!”

Eli snorts. “Did not! You’re insane, dude. I was normal about it—you were the one who kept being weird.”

“Oh, sure.” Demetri rolls his eyes, grievously unconvinced. “That’s absolutely how it was. And anyways, you ‘bawled’ because Kyler was being a fucking jackass, Eli. You have to stop talking like you’re some kind of weakling for getting upset about…something that would upset any reasonable person.”

Eli frowns, gaze fixed on the now-empty bougainvillea. “It was embarrassing. I broke down in front of everyone.”

“Who wouldn’t?! You worked your ass off on that thing!”

“Yeah, and crying sure brought it back, didn’t it?” Eli sneers. Though he’s scowling, something in his expression is pained. “Just rebuilt the whole damn diorama after Kyler flushed all the mangroves and the plastic crabs and shit down the toilet.”

“You spent hours making those trees,” Demetri recalls. “Out of model magic. I’d never seen you look so concentrated.”

His friend shrugs, not meeting his eyes. “I wanted them to be accurate. I remember I read they can do this like…saltwater filtration thing through their roots, and I thought that was the coolest shit. Did this crazy deep dive into the chemistry of it. I wanted all the roots to be linked up and tangled like they actually are.”

“Complicated and intricate. Just like whatever’s going on in here.” Demetri thumps Eli on the side of the head, and his friend groans.

“It was a really good diorama, you know.” Demetri smiles weakly. “Probably the best in the class.”

Eli stares vacantly at the glove box. “And then Kyler happened,” he mumbles.

Demetri lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “And then Kyler happened,” he confirms wearily.

Scarred knuckles work against the fabric of the car seat, scratching into it with short nails. “God. I was so excited for that stupid presentation, too.”

“Oh, I know.” Demetri smiles, remembering the feeling of sun-warmed window glass against his cheek as Eli’s eager little voice filled the car. “You wouldn’t shut up about it the whole ride to school.”

“I put it down for two seconds.” Eli clenched a fist. “To get some shit out of my backpack, or…I d’know. The damn bell hadn’t even rung by the time that stupid fuck was running off with it.”

“I never thought he’d be that bold,” Demetri grumbles, folding his arms and resting his chin on the steering wheel. “I should’ve predicted it. Given you a head’s up before homeroom or something.”

“Wasn’t your fault. I was the one who wasn’t looking. But…” He takes a sharp breath, eyes flashing. “Didn’t feel any less shitty. All those fucking trees, into the sewer.”

“And after your dad 3D-printed all those little blue plastic bases, too,” Demetri laments. “To make it look like the roots were underwater. It was the coolest thing.”

Eli turns and gives him a steaming look, and he raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not helping. Still working on regulating that good ol’ brain-to-mouth tract.”

His friend copies his posture, slumping onto the dashboard. “He got everything but the shorebirds.”

“Everything but the shorebirds,” Demetri repeats wistfully. “They fell out on the way to the bathroom. I picked a few of them up.”

“They weren’t like the one outside, though,” Eli adds, glancing at the empty tree branch where “bird Demetri” had been. “They were like…herons or some shit. I spent hours getting one to perch on the big tree in the middle. Then I had to just awkwardly lay it down on that easter basket stuff we used as eelgrass.”

“Well, they lost their habitat,” Demetri says, shrugging. “And the rest of their ecosystem. You unintentionally created a poignant commentary on the dangers of deforestation.”

Eli sniggers. “Still can’t believe you tried to convince Mrs. Hardass Anderson that that was intentional.”

Demetri winces slightly at the memory. “I really thought it would work. I remember I’d just gotten that disposable camera, and I was taking pictures of everything. I had every angle on your project known to man in there, and every single one of them got shoved in her face while I was insisting those were the ‘before’ pics in some kind of ‘before and after’ thing.”

He’s fairly sure he was also holding the bawling, 10-year-old Eli’s hand the entire time, since only one hand was needed to practically cram his disposable camera up their teacher’s nose. He has a feeling Eli would not appreciate him mentioning that part.

He frowns, looking away. “And then Kyler walks in…”

Eli scoffs. “The teacher aide lady overheard him bragging about flushing half my diorama and knew you were full of shit. She was such a bitch about it, too.”

“It was outrageous!” Demetri throws his hands in the air. “She gave me this huge lecture about how terrible it was to ‘cover’ for your friend’s bully, and shame on me for not telling the truth about what Kyler did! Like tattling on him did any good the last sixteen times I tried it.”

Eli shrugs, not meeting Demetri’s eyes. “At least she gave me a passing grade. I probably would’ve failed if you hadn’t said anything. And if you snitched on Kyler, he would’ve given both of us black eyes.”

Demetri shakes his head, lip curling in disgust. “Gotta love that lecture I heard her giving him later. ‘Kyler Park, you need to show more respect for your classmates! This is unacceptable behavior and not at all in line with the West Valley Elementary Code of Conduct!’”

Eli bursts out laughing as Demetri raises his voice into a high-pitched squawk. “Oh my god. Is that really all he got? Or did they call an emergency parent-teacher conference?”

“Worse.” Demetri smirks. “Principal Holloway assigned him a take-home anti-bullying workbook.”

Eli gawks at him. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way.” He grins smugly. “I heard the popular kids whispering about it when they thought the ‘weird loser freaks’ weren’t paying attention. Apparently he poured orange juice all over the first two, and only filled out the third one when they threatened his recess privileges.”

“Oh, god.” Eli winced. “That does explain why he cracked down on making us miserable after that.”

Demetri nods solemnly. “Truly nothing motivates Kyler Park like good old-fashioned revenge. If he could, I’m guessing he’d pour seventeen more bottles of Pepto Bismol over Miguel’s head.”

“You know…” Eli grins slyly. “Principal Holloway and Counselor Blatt would get along. They should hook up.”

Demetri scowls, making a face as Eli bursts out laughing. “Okay, you’re right, but fuck you for making me think about Counselor Blatt having sex.”

Eli only laughs harder. “Your mind went there, dude, not mine! Get your brain out of the gutter, Demetri.”

“You suggested it!”

“Only because it’d be the funniest shit. Like…I don’t want to think about it either, but I do wonder how that would work.”

Demetri scoffs. “What would their foreplay even be? ‘Oooooh baby, tell me about your 20-step plan to combat cyberbullying in youths!’”

As his voice rises into a nasal squeak, Eli is laughing so hard he’s struggling for breath. Soon Demetri is laughing too, breaking into giggles before he can even finish his next Counselor Blatt impression.

As the laughter dies down, Demetri shakes his head, tears in his eyes. “Look on the bright side, Eli. I’ll bet the West Valley Elementary plumbing system suffered dearly from Kyler’s hijinks. Mrs. Anderson probably had to shit at home for days.”

“Oh my god.” Eli snorts. “I do wonder what the sewage treatment plant guys thought when all that stuff showed up.”

“I mean…it’s an elementary school, Eli. I’m sure that’s far from the weirdest thing kids have flushed into oblivion. I heard Jake Manson say he flushed a hot glue gun once.”

Eli sniggers. “Yeah, that tracks. Wonder whatever happened to that guy.”

Demetri sighs sadly. “Heard he got wrapped up in some pyramid scheme and lost his water polo scholarship.”

Eli hums thoughtfully. “Somehow very on-brand for him.”

Demetri gazes out the windshield. As the last of the sun lingers on the horizon, the ocean starts to darken to a deep, hazy teal, broken only by streaks of white wave caps breaking around distant islands. He smirks, suddenly realizing something.

“Eli…?”

“Hm?”

“Did you destroy my earth sciences model because you figured diorama-smashing was just what big, bad, scary bullies did? Or were you trying to avenge your mangroves, and forgot for a moment what dojo their murderer was in?”

“That’s not why I—HEY! Quit laughing!”

Demetri does not quit laughing.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—‘oooooh, Hawk Moskowitz, thrower of soccer balls, destroyer of dioramas! The height of avarice and malevolence! No more will he be the recipient of such terrible crimes against environmental models, you see—the tables have turned, and now he will be the one sending every last creature and plant and landform in his enemies’ meticulous and work-intensive project to an untimely death!’”

“Holy shit, Dem.” Despite his best efforts, Eli is laughing again. “You’re such a fucking weirdo.”

“Well, I’m glad you finally got some revenge for the fallen mangrove diorama.” Demetri leans over and swats Eli’s shoulder. “Your target may have been a little off, but I’m sure all those 3D-printed tree bases still appreciate it, from somewhere in the Los Angeles sewer system.”

“I guess it did feel nice to wreck a diorama,” Eli admits, cheeks flushing.

“And thus the destroyee becomes the destroyer!” Demetri crows. “The cycle is complete!”

For a long while they sit there laughing, barely wheezing anything out between cackles. When Demetri’s aching sides demand he stop, he glances over at Eli.

To his surprise, his friend has gone quiet. He’s frowning and staring forlornly at the dashboard, all traces of amusement gone.

Guilt twists in Demetri’s stomach.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I was joking around, you know I’m not still mad about the earth sciences thing—”

“It’s not that.”

Eli’s voice is unexpectedly harsh. Demetri winces.

“…what is it, then?”

Eli’s frown deepens, eyes boring a hole in the plastic of the dashboard and looking anywhere but Demetri’s. “I missed this.”

Demetri blinks in confusion. “Missed what?”

“I missed this.” Eli finally looks up, unfortunately donning the doe-eyed stare that always makes Demetri’s rational side fly out the window. “I missed you.”

For a moment, Demetri is lost for words.

Even with Cobra Kai in the distant past, Eli still clings so desperately to the notion that he needs to hide his “embarrassing” sentimental streak. For him to be this forward…

He crosses his arms, giving his friend a half smirk. “Are you just now realizing this?”

“No, idiot.” Eli groans, slumping down and practically banging his head on the dashboard. He lets out a shaky sigh.

“Fuck.” His voice is muffled when he speaks again. “I never should have pushed you away like I did.”

Demetri frowns. Eli must really be a mess about this if he’s considering another apology. “You don’t have to—”

“I know, I know,” Eli cuts him off. “You don’t want me to say sorry again. And I’m not. But I’m done making excuses for all the fucked shit I did to you.”

“You’re not—”

“Would you shut up and let me talk?!”

Eli snaps at him with surprising ferocity, looking up to fix him with an icy glare. Demetri raises his hands in surrender, gesturing for his friend to continue.

“I didn’t get it. I didn’t know why you didn’t want to change with me, and I couldn’t figure out why you were holding onto this…this version of me that everyone else thought was a pathetic piece of shit. And I think I got angry at you for it. For I guess…caring too much about the loser part of me that I fucking hated. I thought you had bad taste, and I couldn’t respect that.”

“Eli, you’re not a loser—”

“I’m not done.” The icy glare intensifies. Demetri once again forces himself to shut up, difficult though it is.

“It felt great,” Eli goes on. “Having people respect me for the first time in my life. And I wanted you to be there with me. I thought no matter what happened, you’d always be there with me. But…you flaunted the stuff I didn’t want anyone to see, and it freaked me out. I was scared if you stuck around, people would realize I was full of shit, and they’d go back to hating me. So I pushed you away.”

Demetri stares at him, dumbfounded. He hasn’t heard Eli be this articulate about his emotions in a long while.

Eli groans again, staring out into the sunset. “It was all so stupid. I should’ve told you all this. Maybe if we talked about it, we wouldn’t have ever—well, shit wouldn’t have gotten as bad. And we almost did, too.” He gives Demetri a sorrowful look. “You tried to make things right at Moon’s party. And I fucked it all up, because I couldn’t accept that someone cared about me for—for more than how many punches I could throw.”

Demetri shakes his head. “No, Eli, that’s on me. I was the one who went up and ran my mouth. It’s my fault everything started spiraling like it did.”

“You wouldn’t have run your mouth if I hadn’t been a shit to you all summer.” Eli gives him a stern look. “And then been even more shitty to you when you were willing to let it be water under the bridge or whatever. I just…”

He lets out a shaky breath. “I can’t believe I let you slip away like that, after everything we’ve been though. All because I was too much of a pussy to admit that you weren’t some…horrible, pathetic nerd for caring about all the shit in me I didn’t like. For reminding me of all the shit I didn’t want anyone to see. Leaving you behind, that whole thing—it was the biggest fucking mistake of my life.”

Demetri catches his breath. That’s no small claim.

“I should’ve fought for us to stay together,” Eli goes on. “Like we always have. But I gave up on you for practically nothing, and that was fucked.”

Demetri can’t argue with that. He doubts it will ever fully stop stinging, thinking of Eli turning on him so easily.

Eli gives him a long look. “I was fucking stupid to take you for granted.”

He sighs, smiling weakly.

“You know…I was pretty fucking stupid to take you for granted, too. It had always been us, and it—well, it didn’t even occur to me that there’d ever be a time you weren’t around. Always just…Demetri and Eli, binary brothers!”

He sings the theme in a grating voice, and Eli has to break his serious demeanor to moan.

“Anyways, I…” Demetri trails off, frowning. “All the crap we were going through with people picking on us…I didn’t realize it was hurting you like that. I mean, it sucked for me too, but I get it wasn’t the same. I should have listened to what you wanted, and not just…I don’t know. Assumed I knew what was best for both of us.”

“You were trying to protect me, though.” Though Eli sounds surly about the fact, he doesn’t seem angry.

“I thought I was. I figured if things stayed the way they were, they at least wouldn’t get worse.”

“I know.” Eli huffs, melting back down into the dashboard and lying his head against the plastic. “And I knew you were fucking wrong. That the only way wasn’t to just…wallow in misery or whatever. I should’ve fought harder to make you see that. So I could just…” His voice breaks slightly. “So I could keep you with me.”

“You…” Demetri studies the steering wheel. “You really wanted to?”

“More than anything.” He turns to see Eli looking at him so sincerely that he thinks he might break apart. “I wanted us to be in Cobra Kai together. I nagged you to rejoin for months.”

“I know. I remember.” Demetri chuckles. “I guess it seemed easier to let you and Miguel do the intimidating if people bothered us. You two seemed to enjoy it.”

“Yeah, but…” Eli huffed. “You had to know we weren’t always going to be around to protect your scrawny ass.”

“Denial’s a powerful thing, Eli.” His friend only rolls his eyes. “And when I got to be a part of your little karate world without Gym Class 2.0, I didn’t feel the need to get kicked in the face.”

“I was used to you always being the one who talked.” Eli sighs, leaning back. “I wanted people to notice me for once. And I guess I got high off it when they did.”

Demetri shakes his head, smiling sadly. “I was happy for you, you know. I wished I was brave enough to be like you. But I felt you drifting, and I guess I got more and more frantic to hold onto you.”

“You never should’ve felt the need,” Eli mutters. “You were the only constant in my life, and I tried to wreck whatever we had. All so I wouldn’t have to feel like I was a nerd anymore.”

He groans, leaning against the dashboard with his head in his hands. Demetri leans over the console box, putting a hand on Eli’s shoulder. “Hey…”

Eli props his chin on his hands, giving Demetri a sidelong glance.

“This whole thing…this trip…” Demetri uses his other hand to gesture abstractly. “It can be a fresh start. Maybe all the painful crap between us from the last year doesn’t have to hurt anymore.”

Eli snorts. “It can’t be that easy.”

“Sure it can.” Demetri laughs, giving his friend’s shoulder a light squeeze. “We forgave each other. And we’re together now. Isn’t that what matters?”

Eli’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t contradict him.

“I know it sucks,” Demetri goes on. “Everything that happened. And frankly, I was a massive idiot to assume you’d stick around when I wasn’t really willing to…you know, adapt to your new thing. When I couldn’t see that karate could be a good shtick for you, too. I’m sorry if I was dismissive.”

“You were adapting,” Eli argues. “You came to the tournament and Valley Fest. You bought all that fucking merchandise. You just wouldn’t take my shit, and I hated it.”

“Still. I could have handled it better.” Demetri smiles meekly. “But it’s all in the past now. Right now? This epic quest through the wilds of Mexico, filled with adventure and daring-do? Well, not to be a sap, but it’s a chance for us to make new, better memories together. And I promise you that this is what I’m going to remember in the end, not any vague flashes of ridiculous karate war nonsense.”

“You mean that?” Eli sits up, eyes widening hopefully. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Why would I?”

“‘I say a lot of things. It’s a very polarizing attribute of mine.’” Demetri winces as Eli mimics him in a high-pitched nasally voice.

“Okay, well.” He chuckles nervously. “Not this time. Pinky-swear on it?”

He brushes his hand off Eli’s shoulder, extending his pinky. Eli smiles timidly and takes it with his own.

When Eli looks up, something in his expression is different. There’s a sort of cautious curiosity, like there’s something he’s on the brink of wanting to reach for. A strange kind of wonder imagining what will happen if he does.

It’s as though Demetri’s blood has decided to rush through him at 3 times its normal speed. He sits stiff, breaths coming fast, eyes locked with Eli’s.

He hopes whatever nervous sweat he’s inevitably pumping out isn’t going to make him stink.

And suddenly he’s back at Moon’s party, across the couch from a recently-dumped Eli. He’s watching Eli inch toward him—red camouflage jacket, eager smile, eyes stealing glance after glance at his lips. He’s edging closer himself, every molecule in his body fluttering and screaming from the way Eli is looking at him.

And there he is, about to take advice from his least favorite martial arts studio in the entire world.

Strike first. Strike first. Strike first.

It was something Miguel told him earlier that summer—how Sensei Lawrence talked about how you needed to “go all in.” Fully commit. Make a move before someone else did. Not usually Demetri’s style, but he wasn’t the same wimp who used to hide behind Miguel and Eli—he was Miyagi Do now. He was learning karate and he was learning how to be brave, just like the rest of them.

And Demetri was done lying to himself about how he felt about Eli. No more cowardice, no more pretending “best friends” was good enough. He was going to grow a pair and tell the truth.

And then he saw how Eli looked at Moon, face crumpling like his heart was breaking in real time. He realized how absurd it was to ever think Eli would feel the same way. That Eli would ever feel that kind of longing for a boy.

And so he chickened out.

Still a pussy, Eli said. And he was right. If Demetri was anything but, he would have leaned across that couch and told Eli Moskowitz that he wanted to be with him. That he didn’t care about karate rivalries or unhinged senseis or unsafe dojo practices or ripping shirts off for no reason or insane hairdos or cheating at martial arts tournaments—he wanted to be with him. Eli could call the whole world pussies and parrot back every absurd thing his senseis said, and Demetri would still want to hold him.

But they’re not at Moon’s party now. There’s no uninterested ex to draw Eli’s eye, and no looming threat of Kreese sinking his toxic “no defeat allowed” claws into Eli’s mind.

He’s free, and he’s using that freedom to look at Demetri.

I’m not going to be a pussy anymore.

He leans across the console box. Eli’s eyes widen, lips parting.

He’s shooting glances at Demetri’s mouth again, unabashedly hopeful. Out the passenger window behind him, Mazatlán is lighting up for the night, bathing Eli in a soft yellow glow. It’s a gorgeous color mosaic—orange and gold city lights, hazy blue-black mountains, rippling midnight blue waves, indigo sky, the faint green of illuminated palm trees, the red of radio towers. The beautiful soft blue of Eli’s eyes, staring at him like nothing else matters.

Demetri wonders if Eli looked at him like this all along, and he was just too blind to see it. He can’t allow himself to be that optimistic.

When his hand slides around the back of Eli’s neck, the other boy presses into it. His thumb brushes Eli’s cheek as they lean in, and Demetri barely dares to breathe.

Eli is the one who closes the distance. He kisses hard and fierce, like this is the most important thing he’s ever done. Demetri’s fingers flutter across Eli’s skin as they draw in and out, melting into each other and pulling away again.

If his blood was pumping before, it has more pressure than a busted water pipe now. Demetri’s doctor would faint if he knew.

It’s difficult to form thoughts, but Demetri arrives at a few.

The first is that Eli’s skin is soft, the back of his neck dusted with the lowermost velvety hair of his buzzcut. The second is that Eli’s lips are chapped from the desert heat—and unfortunately still taste a little like habanero-soaked carnitas, despite how many bottles of milk he downed after the fact. The third is that this is the first time they’ve kissed for no reason.

There are no Miguel worries plaguing them, hanging heavy in the air and making it difficult to think of anything else. There are no nightmares demanding physical comfort, be it arms or lips or both. There are no elderly homophobes nearby to make uncomfortable.

They’re kissing solely because they want to.

Demetri smiles into Eli’s lips and kisses him deeper.

He fancies himself quite a fool to believe that last night’s desperate cartop make-out session was the single greatest moment of his life, and everything after would pale in comparison. This make-out session clearly takes the cake, and only after this does he have to worry about his life taking a turn for the abysmal.

After what feels like barely any time at all, Eli pulls away. Demetri feels a wave of resigned disappointment trickle through him.

Ah, well. This is to be expected. It’s high time Eli Moskowitz comes to his senses.

Then, for not the first time in these last few whirlwind days, his best friend surprises him.

Eli pushes up the top of the console box and slithers over it with unexpected grace, maneuvering his way into the driver’s seat. He slides onto Demetri’s lap, knees straddling him.

Demetri hasn’t worried about spontaneous human combustion in earnest since he was 8 or so, but he certainly is now. Every neuron in his brain is firing at a thousand miles an hour, entire being buzzing with energy that has nowhere to go.

Eli’s hands begin sliding up his chest, finding their way under his shirt. Fingers dance across his skin tantalizingly slow, and Demetri is honestly surprised that the intensity of whatever is now capturing his body isn’t strong enough to make the windows shatter.

His skinny, bony form certainly doesn’t feel large enough to contain it. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise him if all the chemical reactions inside him, kicked into overdrive, collectively decide they’re exhausted with this nonsense and evaporate him on the spot.

“Oh.” A hand stops near the middle of his chest, and Eli smirks. “Your pulse is racing. Do I make you nervous, Dem?”

Demetri’s answer is incoherent stutters—because he really has no satisfactory answer.

Maybe he knows what the answer is. Maybe he knows what he wishes it wasn’t.

“Wait.” The blood drains from Eli’s face, and he goes rigid. “You’re not still…?”

The question goes unfinished, but Demetri knows what it is. You’re not still scared of me, are you?

Eli looks like he might throw up at the notion.

Demetri raises a hand to cup his face. “I was never scared of you, Eli,” he whispers. “I was only ever scared of losing you.”

Maybe it’s an exaggeration. He certainly was unnerved when Eli stalked through the computer lab shouting his name, or had him pinned on the arcade floor. But “scared” isn’t the right word for what he felt.

It was more worry. Grief, maybe. The anguish that Eli was slipping away into something cold and hard and dark and unfeeling, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. And, perhaps worst of all, that he knew Eli was miserable underneath it all.

He knows Eli, and he knows him putting on some over-the-top façade is exhausting and frustrating and empty. Any happiness that he got out of this fake-him would never quite be enough to cancel out what it took out of him.

And how could he be scared of Eli? How could he be scared of the same boy who once looked at him like he was the funniest kid at West Valley High, who only lashed out when he felt scared and unloved and alone?

It’s easy to fear what you don’t understand. Perhaps that’s why he can never fear Eli Moskowitz.

Because Eli is one of the few people in this chaotic and confusing world that he does understand. One of the few people he always has. And it’s hard to quake in terror when you know practically every turn and corner and dead end in the maze of someone’s mind.

Perhaps if Eli is something intimately familiar, the house he grew up in, then ‘Hawk’ is the basement at night. The one avoided corner, familiar yet eerie. Always there, but relatively untouched. The part of the house you minimize your time in—grab what you need and run back up the stairs. The one room that gives you chills, where you feel like you’re outside the jurisdiction of the rest of the house’s protective walls.

Nonetheless, the basement comes with the house, and it would be absurd to never go home again because one measly, cobwebby room gives you the creeps. It would be absurd to give up on Eli Moskowitz because he has an ugly side. God knows Demetri does, too.

“You’ll never lose me.” Eli’s voice is unexpectedly fierce when he speaks, eyes blazing with an icy blue fire. “Never again. I swear.”

He leans into Demetri’s hand, and as his eyes soften, Demetri realizes how unequivocally fucked he is.

I love you. Oh god. I love you.

He doesn’t say it. If Eli Moskowitz is inevitably going to shatter his heart into a thousand pieces, it’s not going to be on a trip when they’re stuck in a car together for at least two more weeks. There will be plenty of time for Demetri to be emotionally gutted once Miguel is safe and sound.

“I can’t lose you,” he says instead, voice cracking. “Please. I think it would kill me.”

“I’m staying.” Eli’s voice is quiet again, fingers starting to massage Demetri’s chest. “I promise I’m staying this time.”

Warm fingers continue sliding up his torso, and he leans into them. In one sweeping motion, they hook onto the inside of his shirt and pull it over his head—and just like that, Demetri can no longer inform people that he is silently correcting their grammar. Revolting.

Eli presses into him, and Demetri loops long arms around his waist, pulling him closer. He feels Eli’s hands slide behind his neck, holding it with a gentle firmness that sends shivers ripping through him. Eli smiles so softly that Demetri idly wonders if his brain will ever be able to fully function again.

And then Eli leans in, pushing him up against the back of the driver’s seat and kissing him hard. All at once, everything slides into place.

***

The first thing Demetri sees when he wakes up is a purple and brown blur.

He grunts, moving a hand to find it brushing across smooth, bare skin. The other seems to be interlocked with something soft and warm.

Demetri lifts his head, blinking until his eyes focus. The purple and brown smudges form into the shape of feathers.

Eli’s tattoo. Demetri starts.

The body underneath him shifts, and Eli turns his head to the side to look up at him. “Morning, Dem.”

Eli’s arms are folded into a makeshift pillow, the real pillows and blankets strewn chaotically across the backseat. Demetri realizes one of his own arms is tangled among Eli’s.

There’s a squeeze around his palm, and his face grows hot. His fingers are interlocked with Eli’s, apparently having stayed that way all night. What’s far more interesting, however, is that upon a backwards glance Demetri realizes that, in the king’s English, they’re both butt fucking naked.

There are a couple blankets loosely strewn across them, covering skin here and there, but it’s a sorry attempt at concealment. It’s clear they both went to sleep with not a garment to either of their names.

Demetri squawks in surprise, nearly falling off Eli and onto the car floor. “Did we…?”

Eli scoffs, lifting his head to roll his eyes more visibly. “No, Demetri, we joined a nudist colony last night.”

Demetri’s eyes trail around the disheveled makeshift bedding and land on a suspiciously non-empty condom on the floor, right under the driver’s seat. The previous night comes crashing back to him in one overwhelming rush, and his face suddenly burns like never before.

“We did,” he confirms, although the words come out as more of a squeak than a statement.

“Oh, don’t sound so horrified.” Eli lets go of his hand to swat his shoulder. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“No, no!” Demetri shakes his head rapidly, unable to meet Eli’s eyes. If his cheeks were smoldering before, they’re an uncontrolled California wildfire now. “You were great, actually, I just, uh…I mean, I didn’t, uh…I just…”

He trails off, suddenly wholly unsure what he’s trying to say. Groaning, he presses his palm to his forehead. “Fuck.”

“Oh, noooo.” Eli’s voice is dripping with quiet sarcasm. “Did you get me pregnant?”

“Shut up!” Demetri punches his arm, and Eli cackles.

Demetri dares to look at his eyes, and they’re glowing. His best friend is so nonchalant, and Demetri wonders idly how many times Eli’s been in this exact situation. The morning after, wrapped up in blankets, processing the experience. The thought of Eli joking around while lying naked with someone else makes Demetri uneasy.

He can’t say why. It’s not like the thought is that surprising.

Maybe you just want to be different. Selfish prick.

Guilt gnaws at him. He shouldn’t feel like he has any claim over Eli. Not when he was oblivious to how miserable his best friend was for so long.

But for reasons he’d rather not get to the bottom of, it feels a little unfair.

“I feel like I’m the one who should be worried.” Eli rolls over, knocking Demetri off his back and sending him tumbling onto the ruffled comforter beside them. Blue eyes turn to face him, glinting suspiciously. “You didn’t give me herpes or some shit, right?”

“Wh—no!” Demetri gawks at him, mortified. He gestures wildly in exasperation, nearly smacking Eli’s bare chest in the process. “I don’t have any of those! Why would you think that?!”

Eli frowns, like Demetri’s failing to grasp a very obvious point. “Uh, because you were dating the most popular chick at West Valley High? And if you don’t think she got around before you, your head’s up your ass.”

“What, you think me and Yasmine—?” Despite himself, Demetri clutches his chest and howls with laughter.

Eli’s frown deepens. “What’s so fucking funny?! It’s a fair assumption!”

It’s a while before Demetri can breathe enough to answer. “You think Yasmine the lesbian and I had sex?”

“She wasn’t out yet!”

“Ah yes, and most lesbians, as we know, are just clamoring to get dicked by their beards.”

“Look, I don’t know! I thought she might do it to keep up appearances!”

“To whom, Eli? Her crazy homophobic mom isn’t going to ask about the details of her sex life. Who does she need to emphasize her undying love of penis to? Moon the bisexual all-accepting hippie? Sam ‘head filled only with karate wars and Miguel’ LaRusso? Were you under the impression that my girlfriend invited her mother to watch us get it on to make absolutely sure her family remained unaware she likes boobs?”

“Wh—dude, no! Why would you make me think about that?!” After seeming to shake the image from his head, he fixes Demetri with a devilish smirk. “I thought maybe it was so bad that that’s how she figured out she’s gay.”

Demetri scoffs. “Oh, you would love that. Nice try, but it never got that far.”

“That’s weird.” Eli frowns again. “She seems like the type who’d experiment with that shit. You know, even if she realized later she didn’t like guys. She did do other guys before you, right?”

Demetri doesn’t answer.

“Right?” Eli asks again.

Demetri sucks in a breath. “Well…not…not other, uh, guys.”

Eli’s eyes grow huge. “She banged a chick?! Do you know who? How did she get away with being that popular and never banging a guy?”

Demetri glares at him. “I’m not at liberty to divulge who. In any case, it was hush-hush enough that it never got out. Anyhow, Yas said she got plenty of dick, to maintain the ‘hottest girl in school’ reputation and all, but I mean…if you’re some shmuck and Yasmine says she bagged you, are you really going to deny it? That is social suicide, straight up.”

“So her sleeping with those football guys she went out with? That was all bullshit?”

“Pretty much. She lives by my philosophy of trying to get the gain without the pain. You get to be desirable without actually having to pop your cherry. Or having a cock pop your cherry, anyways.”

There’s a short silence. Blood begins to creep into Demetri’s cheeks as he remembers the whirlwind relationship, and how different it must have been from the outside vs. the inside. It was one of his stranger experiences, but one that he knows will make a good story in 20 years or so.

That is, of course, assuming he has any success making friends in adulthood. He hopes there will be at least a few he can entertain with the riveting tale of his extremely hot and extremely gay high school girlfriend.

“We messed around a bit,” he admits. “More than, uh, making out. She wanted to know what fooling around with someone with a dick was like. We tried handjobs.”

Eli hums in sarcastic sympathy. “And it wasn’t everything you dreamed it would be?”

“Not really. Pretty underwhelming. She seemed like she wanted to get it over with so we could go hang out with Moon at the mall.”

Eli snorts with laughter. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. She was treating the whole thing like a gaming speedrun. I didn’t even finish. And trust me when I say it does not take much.”

“Did you do anything else?”

He inches a little closer, gleaming with curiosity. Demetri wonders if there isn’t a tiny streak of worry in his pretty features, too.

He doubts it. Eli couldn’t care less what he did with Yasmine, he’s sure.

Demetri shrugs. “We dry-humped. Never took anything off, but she straddled me on the couch when her parents weren’t home and we went at it for a bit. She never seemed to get into it, though. Believe me when I say the moans were very fake.”

Eli snickers, and Demetri can’t help but smile. The whole thing is pretty funny in retrospect, if he’s being honest with himself.

He shakes his head, smile suddenly fading. “I had to tell her to stop. The whole thing felt…I don’t know, performative. I could tell she was just going through the motions and not actually enjoying it. Seemed like a waste of time if she was uncomfortable through the whole thing, so we put on Clueless and ordered burritos instead.”

“So she wasn’t into it at all?”

“Not even a little. It was lifeless.” He smiles wanly. “We agreed not to do anything after that, and honestly? I’d never seen her more relieved.”

“And was this before or after the stoned lesbian flirting incident?”

“Oh, months after. March, I think. If I suspected at Moon’s girls’ nights, I knew for damn sure then. After that I knew it was just a matter of time before she called things off.”

“Really?” Eli blinks in surprise. “So no more groping after that?”

“Nope. She was—well, you know how she was at school, but alone? We never tried anything else. It was too awkward.”

Eli looks at him contemplatively, eyes glinting with a light Demetri isn’t sure he likes. When he smirks again, Demetri groans.

“So I have to know.” Eli scoots closer, humming mockingly. “You said you and Yasmine broke up a couple of weeks before the All-Valley. And if you guys weren’t even messing around anymore…”

Eli rolls onto Demetri’s chest in one quick movement, grinning triumphantly down. “What the hell were all those condoms and things of lube doing in the glovebox, Mr. we’re-not-going-to-Mexico-to-get-laid?”

Demetri is sure his face is the same shade of red that Eli’s hair once was. “Uh…well…” As he looks away, Eli presses down harder on him. “I didn’t think, um—I didn’t think it was entirely out of the question that we might end up—”

“Ha!” Eli barks out a laugh, smacking Demetri’s chest. “You devious little fucker. You planned this whole thing out, didn’t you?”

“I did not!” Demetri splutters. “I just think it’s good to prepare for all possibilities is all! What’s so wrong about that?!”

“Nothing.” Eli reaches out and starts playing with a stray strand of Demetri’s hair. When he looks at him, his eyes are big and innocent and infuriating. “Just think it’s funny that you thought us fucking was likely enough to justify 20 condoms and 6 bottles of lube.”

Demetri is fairly certain that, once again, his face is at risk of burning off. “Well, was I wrong, Eli?!”

“No. But you’re so presumptuous it’s fucking hilarious. You just assumed I’d want to bang you?”

“Again! I assumed correctly!”

“You did. I’ll give you that. You know something?” Eli leans forward, lips by his ear. Demetri shivers. “That’s what I like about this new you. You don’t mope around all day thinking about what a piece of shit you are. You know you deserve some nice things.”

Demetri smirks against his shoulder. “Like dicking you?”

“Precisely.”

“You’re welcome.” Demetri lifts a hand, trailing his fingers across Eli’s bare back. “‘Demetri, I’m not gonna get laid this entire trip! This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!’” He mimics Eli’s previous-day complaint in a nasally, squeaky voice.

“H—hey!” Eli shoves his chest hard, pressing him further down into the seat. Demetri sniggers.

“I hope I was as good as all the Mexican girls you won’t have time to seduce.”

“Hey, it’s young days yet—”

“Eli. That is all the sex you’re getting. We have a mission.”

“Fine. I guess that’ll do for now.” Eli pouts like a child, and Demetri can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, don’t be so ungrateful. You seemed to have a pretty good time.”

There’s a chill in the air, one that has been steadily creeping in through the cracks in the doors and filling the car with a damp ocean breeze. Demetri is suddenly reminded that they’ve spent the night without a heater and that his skin is growing frosty, even with Eli acting as an impromptu human blanket.

Seeming to read his mind, Eli reaches over and pulls a wad of blankets over them.

“We should go soon.”

Eli murmurs the words softly, pressing a kiss to Demetri’s neck. He tightens his arm around Eli’s back, another shiver rippling through him.

It’s really very unfair, how Eli can so easily unravel him with one small touch. He needs to work on that. It’s something ex-Sensei Lawrence might refer to as “pussy behavior”—and regrettably, ex-Sensei Lawrence is, occasionally, right.

Before he can figure out what to do about it, a sharp rap on the car window nearly makes him jump out of his skin.

“Señores?”

“Shit.” Demetri yanks the blankets closer, frantically trying to cover any exposed skin on both of them. Which is a lot. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

A woman in some sort of security guard uniform is standing outside the backseat window, tightly gripping a notepad. Not a cop, Demetri doesn’t think, but nonetheless someone very displeased about them being there.

She knocks on the window again, frowning. Demetri shoves a bundle of blankets to Eli under the comforter, hissing for him to make himself decent.

As they scramble to cover themselves, Demetri squirms into the front seat, comforter in tow. He cracks the driver’s door, smiling brightly despite the icy rush of air that assaults his bedding-clad body.

“Hi, officer!” He doesn’t know the proper title for a night watch guard or what have you, but this seems close enough. “What seems to be the problem?”

She raises her eyebrows, looking at him like he’s just a little bit of a lunatic.

“Ustedes no deberían estar aquí.” Ah. Excellent. So no English, apparently. “El mirador no abrirá hasta dentro de 3 horas.”

Probably something to the gist of how they shouldn’t be here, this was a permit-only lot, etc etc. Demetri gives her his best remorseful look.

“Lo lamento, nos iremos.”

The security guard narrows her eyes, seemingly not satisfied. There’s a shuffling behind him, and he glances back to see Eli maneuvering his way into the front seat with a thick cloak of blankets trailing behind.

“Llegamos un poco temprano, así que decidimos ver el paisaje,” he pipes up. “Ya que estabamos aquí.”

He situates himself into the passenger’s seat, wiggling around in his blanket robes until he’s sitting up straight and looking very confident in himself. He raises a hand and smooths down some rumpled hair, presumably to look more dignified.

Ah, so Eli’s hair is long enough to rumple now. Demetri tries not to think about how cute it looks.

The security guard’s gaze drifts from the lowered backseat and the strewn bedspread to the two blanket-wrapped teenagers. Her bag-accompanied eyes glint sharply, like she’s finally putting two and two together.

Demetri very much wishes she wasn’t.

“Esperen, ¿acaso estuvieron aquí toda la noche?” she demands. “¿Y haciendo qué rayos, exactamente?”

Demetri and Eli exchange a panicked look. “Nada,” Demetri mumbles, not meeting her eyes. “Nada importante.”

She looks over them again, expression prying. Like she’s trying to get them to come clean about a dastardly crime. Despite the chilly air, Demetri imagines his entire face is glistening with nervous sweat.

He wonders if he’s about to wither away.

“¿Y qué onda con todas esas cobijas?” she pipes up, frowning.

Luckily, Eli answers indignantly before Demetri can panic over what to say. “¡Esque hace frío aquí atras!” Demetri nods earnestly as Eli begins to shiver for effect. Something about them being wrapped up in blankets because they’re so cold, and definitely not because they’re in their birthday suits underneath.

The security guard hums in consideration before letting out a long, weary sigh. “Los vi aquí adentro esta mañana,” she says finally.

Demetri turns to look at his friend. From the way Eli’s face drops, this is not good.

The security guard sighs again. “Bueno, caballeros... Me temo que tendré que multarlos por traspasar propiedad estatal e indecencia pública.”

She pulls out what looks like a ticketbook and starts scribbling away, brow creased. Demetri lets out a mewl of despair.

He feels a reassuring hand squeeze his arm, and turns to give Eli a desperate look. “Do something!” he hisses.

Eli shrugs apologetically. “She said she saw us in here this morning, man,” he whispers back. “We’re not even supposed to be here. We’d better just take the L.”

Demetri whimpers again, and Eli groans. “What, you’ve never gotten a ticket before?”

“No! Normal people don’t go around committing ticketable crimes, Eli!”

A hand pokes through the car door crack, offering a narrow red strip of paper. As soon as Demetri takes it, the security guard stalks off, mumbling about turistas cachondos.

Demetri looks over what he can only assume is a ticket and lets out a wail. Not a word of it is written in English, and the largest of the text is no bigger than his pinky nail.

“I can’t understand any of this—”

Eli snatches it away and scrutinizes it, brow furrowing. A fond smile tugs at Demetri’s lips. Eli has always looked so intense when he concentrates.

“Fuck, dude, I can barely make out shit, either,” he mutters. He looks up, fixing Demetri with a small smirk. “All the more reason to find Miguel, right? He can translate for us. Otherwise you’ll never be able to pay this ticket, and the Mexican government will hunt you down.”

He raises his hands and wiggles his fingers, making ghost noises. Demetri promptly smacks him.

“Cheer up.” Eli snakes an arm around Demetri’s neck, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze. “I’ll protect you if they send parking violation assassins after you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Demetri laughs, leaning across the console box to slump against Eli’s shoulder.

“Can we get Starbucks?” he mumbles.

Eli chuckles. “Sure. But we should probably put clothes on first.”

***

Eyyyyy let’s hear it for Counselor Blatt x Principal Holloway, the real OTP of this whole operation!!!

Hilariously enough Dem and Eli’s elementary school principal is 100% based off my own, like this fucker never stopped kicking up a fuss about how you absolutely had to tell a teacher if you were being bullied and fighting back made you “just as bad as them” like sorry my man but if you teach bullying victims to be weenies and snitches they’re literally never going to learn how to solve any of their life problems on their own lmaooooo

Yes, Demetri is a virgin and Hawk is not. Yes, I will attest to this in court. Yasmine’s sudden over-the-top horniness was 1000% an act because a) that is the ONLY way her S4 behavior makes ANY goddamn sense and b) the idea of Demetri dating what seems to be the thirstiest girl in the entire school and never getting any is just so objectively hilarious to me.

Realistically, would Eli and Demetri slut-shame Yas for supposedly “getting around” a lot??? Maybe, but slut-shaming does not exist in this dojo because I say so, get fucked

Also how fucking funny is it that I just instinctively knew Clueless would be Yasmine’s favorite romcom and only later remembered that it had a subplot about the girly-girl protagonist dating a guy aND REALIZING HE WAS GAY HOLY SHIT

Not giving the exact Spanish translations this time because it’ll be objectively much funnier to make y’all wait until Miguel translates that ticket for them >:3 BUT the basic gist is that the security guard lady is like “wtf are y’all doing here? This lookout point doesn’t open for 3 hours...also fucking excuse me, were you here all night??? What were you doing???” and then Eli frantically tries to save their asses by being like “Ohhhh well we just got here early and figured we might as well stay and uh...look at the beautiful scenery!!! Also we’re totally not naked, we’re just wrapped in 5 layers of blankets because it’s cold in here, promise!!!”

These dumb horny idiots I stg XD GOOD FOR THEM THOUGH GOOD FOR THEM

17 notes · View notes

menacetosocietyy · 2 years ago

Note

Hello there. I just recently found your blog and matchup writing. I think your writing skill is wonderful! They are incredibly details and beautifully written. 😇

So, I would truly appreciate it if you could do a matchup request with Dead by Daylight's Killer. 🙇‍♂️ It would be very nice if it could include something NSFW as well, only if you feel comfortable though.

Here are some information about myself:

I am 25 years old, male, and Asian.

I am Gay but not coming out yet because of my parents strictness. I wish I could coming out one day with my right partner.

I am quite introverted. I am not good with people around much. However, when it comes to work, like leading the team or doing presentation, I am okay with that.

I am a slight nerd. I love playing video games, read comic books, learns about toys and figures, watch documentary about movie making. I am also a foodie. I enjoy eating out a lot since it makes me feels like I discovered new things every time I do.

I have a problem with self-confidence and depression. I would be nice if someone I love can understand me and support me.

If I can suggest a trip with my partner, I would go to the beach. A beach that does not have a lot of people, so we can have our private time together.

I do not like arguing or fighting with my lover. I have seen enough with my parents fighting and it hurt so much to see someone you love like that. So, I avoided conflict as much as possible. I will confront it only if necessary.

My ideal partner would be someone that stay in shape. It shows that the person has a self-discipline and I really love about that.

About my romantic side, I am quite caring person. I am willing to help my lover in every aspect, as long as it within my reach. I like to surprise my partner with a small gift or a meal cook by myself. I love cuddling and being a small spoon. However, I know when I should give them a space. I will try to not to be too clingy.

About my kinky side I am quite submissive and I enjoy being dominated a lot. Dirty talk is my biggest turn on. I love servicing my partner. I can do anything that they want. Felatio, rough sex, semi-public, you call, as long as it within my limits.

I am faithful and truly believe in love. So, if i ever caught my partner doing so, they will never be forgiven.

Thank you very much for taking your time reading this. I hope you have a very nice day. ☺️

I am so sorry that this took so long!! I honestly forgot about my requests after a while of being busy, my most sincere apologies.

So, dear anon, I do hope that this will make up for my absence and delay.

I think you would be a good match with:

The Trickster, Ji-Woon Hak!

I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think of anyone else at all after I read your request. He’s the only one that came to mind. I really tried, but to no avail, the attention whore won.

I personally headcanon that he is around 25, so you guys are about the same age

I think he’s bisexual because no straight man is just that flamboyantly fashionable. Idc that he’s a star. He is not a hetero.

Outside the fog:

would 1000% constantly find new foods for you guys to try because he wants to make sure you’re well-fed and love to see your reactions to the new foods.

Total romantic, would take you to all the fancy restaurants, rent out a beach for just you two, or a cute dinner-in with movies, candles, and romantic baths together, and matching pj’s.

He would purposely workout in front of you because this man is completely vain, but if you don’t workout he doesn’t mind. I think he loves tummy’s so don’t be worried if you’re on the heavier side! He will just have to sit on him while he does bench presses ;)

Or he will lift you to show off how strong he is, also to show you, if you are insecure about being heavy, that you aren’t too heavy. He will even do more strength training if he couldn’t lift you before so that he can. He is determined.

But if you workout, he would love to workout together and insists on it! You’re not allowed to workout with him. He will be pouty if you even think of it.

He merges your guys’ workouts so you guys do the same things.

Absolutely cheers you on and pushes you to your limits until you’re jelly- but in a good way so you gain muscle/whatever you’re going for but don’t hurt yourself.

If you do hurt yourself, in any way, even outside of working out he will 100% scold you, and then baby you.

“No babe, the doctor said you can’t lift over 10lbs, give that to me.”

“Go back to bed!! I will get you some food, you need to rest! No buts!!”

He will throw fits until you listen.

You have no say in this.

He also DEFINITELY is a clingy baby when he is sick or hurt.

He demands all of the cuddles and attention, he’s the biggest drama queen.

Even if he has the smallest cold, he wants to be babied. He will still go to work, since he loves his job, but also wants to complain about how hard it was since he’s “So sick” and now needs to be catered to.

Doesn’t care if he gets you sick, just gives him a reason to keep you home after and to take care of you like you did for him. Hot baths, soup, cozy pj’s and comfy blanket and pillows.

If he has to work while you are sick, he will get you set up in the living room or your guys’ room- whatever is closest to the kitchen since he will prepare food and snacks for you and so you don’t have to move too much to get them if they have to be stored in the fridge or reheated. If not, he will leave them within arms-reach of you. Also lots of water and tea.

He will buy you all the nerdy things your heart desires, from gaming consoles, to comics, to finding any new documentary about film production to keep you busy while he’s gone. He will let you ramble to your heart's desire and try to remember everything, but be patient if he forgets lol.

He will take you to the set for his music videos so you can watch them be produced and watch him, obviously.

Be sure to watch him a lot and pay him attention or he will be a grouchy puppy.

Oh he is most certainly the jealous type and loves that you’re an introvert because he thinks it means its easier to isolate you from others.

But he still supports you being a boss bitch in the work-field, and brags about you ALL THE TIME.

Goes all-out if you get a raise or promotion, you’re getting the fanciest, most romantic date in the world. It lasts like two days with all the gifts and meals he buys for you.

Now jumping to your depression, while he may not quite understand it himself but he will do anything he can to help. Just tell him your needs, and he will provide, From cuddles, to space, to him taking a day off to care for you.

In the fog:

He won’t exactly go easy on you if you’re a survivor, but he will let you go sometimes. Just not enough for the entity to throw a fit.

Sometimes, his sadistic ass will be harsher on you, but don’t worry. He kidnaps you from the fire to give you what he calls “aftercare” when he’s been rough on you in a match.

He just keeps you at his map area thingy, the entity has no choice but to deal with it. He wouldn’t stop snatching you from the fire no matter what the entity did so now it just puts up with it since he works harder anyway.

He would still be as romantic as possible and spoil you as much as he can, from offerings and decorating the area with whatever he can find.

If you're a killer he would compete with you for the most kills and sacrifices.

You guys switch up who's area you stay in a lot.

Overall the same relationship from outside the fog, but with adjustments since... y'know... the fog is a bit restricting.

Overall same level of affection, and love. Just not as many extravagant gifts, much to Ji-Woon's annoyance because he loved spoiling you like that. (He would try to pull strings as often as possible to get you gifts, mostly comics but sometimes he manages to get some video games).

He doesn’t mind you being clingy at all, he’s just as clingy and even territorial.

If a survivor flirts with you, they get it ROUGH for the next like 5 rounds they have with him. If they're a killer, he will beat the shit out of them between matches.

Nsfw:

Speaking of clingy, he leaves you covered in marks at all times, so everyone knows who you belong to.

He likes if you do the same, and will purposely wear outfits that show them off and pose in ways that leaves them in plain sight.

He is VERY dominant in bed, and loves to give and receive if y'know what I mean…

Will take you during matches if he’s particularly horny. Chasing you just gives him some kind of rush.

Likes the idea of people hearing how desperate you are for him, but will never let anyone see. You are his, and only for him to see like that. (With consent obviously. He does care!!)

He's rough, and likes a small amount of cnc, or a struggle from you.

He’s definitely loyal but does like to make you a little jealous sometimes, he will never cheat or flirt with anyone, but if someone is flirting with him and you notice- if he wants to make you a little jealous before ravishing you and marking each other; he won’t stop it right away. He loves when you mark him up with hickeys and bite marks after someone tries to get to him (They fail miserably, obviously).

I hope this makes up for such a delay! I’m truly so sorry, but I hope you like it!! I spent a lot of time on this :’)

5 notes · View notes

schrijverr · 3 years ago

Text

A Phony Boyfriend

After moving into the dorms, class 1-A discovers that Bakugo is constantly on his phone. This leads to them discovering he has a boyfriend and going on a quest to find out as much as they can while Bakugo comes to terms with the fact that High School will be different than Middle School as well as his internalized homophobia.

On AO3.

Ships: Bakudeku

Warnings: mentions of past homophobia, internalized homophobia and fear of homophobia (no one is mean to them, dont worry)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since moving into the dorms they had learned a lot about the others that they had not realized before.

Sato could bake really well, Iida had a really strict and strange work out routine, Jiro always had music in when she cooked, Momo liked tea, especially fancy tea, and Bakugo was completely glued to his phone after school.

The last one was very surprising, since Bakugo had never seemed like a phone person, usually ignoring texts and calls and never having his phone in class.

However, since they lived with him it became apparent that he was prone to typing away on his phone and ignoring everyone else in the room. He was still strict to himself about phone usage during school hours, but after school was out, it was fair game.

Naturally this made them curious to what their explosive classmate was doing on his phone, so after a few weeks Hagekure cracked. She fell on the couch next to Bakugo and asked: “What you doing?”

“Nothing,” Bakugo grumbled.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” she replied innocently.

Bakugo rolled his eyes and said: “Just messaging people and stuff,” before going back to ignoring her.

“Your parents?” she asked, she was gaining an audience and she wanted to deliver as the person who had been brave enough to ask what all had been wondering.

“No,” was Bakugo’s curt response.

Hagakure’s eyes lit up and she sat up in excitement and asked: “A girlfriend?”

Bakugo wrinkled his nose and again said: “No.”

At this point Mina joined the conversation, as a patented pansexual, she felt this shouldn’t be the end of the investigation. So she asked: “A boyfriend, maybe?”

The effect was instant. Bakugo’s stilled and he stopped typing as he avoided their gazes even more than before and a light blush spread across his cheeks. His scowl deepened and he growled: “Shut the fuck up.”

It didn’t work, because the two girls gasped as they exclaimed: “Oh my god!” and “You have a boyfriend?”

“I said shut up,” Bakugo yelled, blushing even harder.

“But that’s so cute,” Hagakure whined, “You have to tell us more.”

“Yeah, Bakugo, you can’t leave us hanging after a revelation like that,” Mina pouted.

“I can and I will, now leave me alone,” Bakugo said, getting up.

“You’re not even going to tell us his name?” she asked.

“No,” Bakugo stomped off, his fingers once again dancing over the keyboard.

The two pouted harder, but didn’t pester him more. They were beyond curious, but also weren’t about to pry in their classmate’s life if he was uncomfortable with it. Still that didn’t stop them from theorizing.

“What do you think is his type?” Mina asked first.

“Probably tough and mean,” Hagakure replied, “They probably do stuff like boxing together and yell at movies.”

“Yeah, or they throw rocks and stuff,” Mina added.

“First off, this is such a weird thing to talk about,” Kirishima interrupted, “Second off, you two have no clue what people do on dates.”

“Oh, and you do, Eijiro?” Mina asked, “Do tell what you think Bakugo and his mystery boyfriend do on their dates.”

“Probably normal stuff, like drinking coffee and talking,” Kirishima shrugged, “I never really thought about my friend’s dating life.”

“You’re not even a but curious?” Hagakure asked.

“Of course I am, I’m just not going to theorize about it,” Kirishima said.

“Boring,” Mina booed, “Kaminari, Sero, Jirowhat do you think?”

“I think Bakugo would be surprisingly romantic,” said Kaminari.

“And I think you finally lost the last of your brain cells, Kaminari,” Mina jeered.

“That does seem unlikely,” Hagakure agreed.

Sero thought about it, then said: “I think he’s more of grand and flashy stuff, like his quirk. Maybe he does the flowers and stuff.”

“Where are the explosions here!” Mina complained.

“I don’t think he’s exploding his boyfriend, Mina,” Jiro pointed out.

While downstairs they were arguing about whether or not Bakugo would use explosions to be romantic, Bakugo himself was in his bedroom, panicking and calling Izu. “It must suck that you didn’t get to tell them in your own time, Kacchan,” Izu said, “But they sound like they reacted well, right?”

“I mean, yes, but what if they think it’s gross?”

“Kacchan, don’t call us gross,” Izu said sternly, “I thought you were getting better with the internalized stuff.”

“I know, I know, just- Ugh!” Kacchan let out a cry of frustration.

“It’s okay, Kacchan, I love you.”

And wasn’t that a soothing balm on all the turmoil in his brain. He couldn't help, but smile as he returned the sentiment: “I love you too, Izu.” Apause. “I’m sorry about freaking out on you, I truly love you, but I just panicked, because the class has been really cool and it would suck if they turned out to- you know?”

“I know, Kacchan, I understand,” Izu said, “But they sounded like they were cool, don’t ruin it for yourself for the small chance that they do. You’re amazing, they just have to deal with it.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Kacchan sighed.

“Damn, I didn’t know my own boyfriend hated me all the time,” Izu teased.

“Shut up, you shitty nerd.”

“Never, Kacchan.”

“Good.” It was quiet for a moment, then Kacchan said: “I’m probably overreacting. I know that Kirishima is cool. He has two moms, loves them to death.”

“There you go,” Izu encouraged, “I like Kirishima from what you told me, he’ll be on your side if anyone’s a dick about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, he is, the idiot,” Kacchan said fondly.

“I’m so glad you made friends.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean? I can make friends.”

“Everyone at kindergarten was afraid of you, Kacchan.”

“You weren’t and I bet it wasn’t everyone.”

“Okay, okay, but you can be an acquired taste,” Izu conceded, “What I meant to say is that I’m glad you have people in your corner, Kacchan. You know. Now that I can’t be there with you all the time. Or hardly any time.”

Kacchan nodded, he knew how worried Izu could get about stuff and he knew what the underlying message was. He replied: “I miss you too, Izu.”

There was a small little content huff from the other side of the line, then Izu said: “I have to go eat now, Kacchan. Update me on if it goes well, okay? I love you.”

“Love you,” Kacchan said right before the line went dead. He looked at the clock and groaned, he really should be going down for dinner as well.

On a logical level, he knew most – if not all – of class 1-A would be cool about him being gay and having a boyfriend, but a small part worried that his friends would fall away and turn on him, like they’d done in Middle School.

So with slight apprehension, he made his way downstairs.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with some bustling about to make everyone dinner and to set the table, where some were trying to quickly finish some homework. It was normal, peaceful and Bakugo was dreading its end.

Kirishima noticed him first and waved: “Oi, Bakubro, can you help me with this Math problem, Mina is being mean about it.”

“I’m not mean, he’s just stupid,” Mina protested.

All had decided to drop the subject of the mystery boyfriend for now. Especially after they’d gotten a lecture from Iida about prying into people’s business and when Fumikage had said: “Dark, the mind can be, when demons of the past have not yet been dismissed.”

It made them realize that maybe Bakugo wasn’t comfortable with the revelation and it had made them feel terrible.

So, they didn’t say a thing.

Cautiously Bakugo made his way over to Kirishima, trying to see if this was a set up or if they had really blessed him with silence.

Kirishima was really struggling with a Math problem. Bakugo knew it wasn’t a set up both because Kirishima would be too honest for it and because it was a problem he had struggled with in the past and could never seem to get.

Beside him Mina was painting her nails. Bakugo saw that her thumb and pinky were black, but the other fingers were painted in the pan flag colors. A bit of relief, loosened in his chest.

Mina saw him looking and smiled, before winking and going back to work on her other hand, while Bakugo explained to Kirishima again that if a full circle was 360 degree, half a circle would be 180 degrees, so the triangle corner couldn't be more than a 180 degrees.

During dinner it was as peaceful as it would get and Bakugo felt himself relaxing.

He didn’t stick around to figure out if the peace would last, instead fleeing to the patio out front and leaning against the wall as he watched the stars. Silently he wished Izu could be there with him and point out the constellations.

His peace was in the end broken by Kirishima, who lowered himself next to Bakugo. He was quiet for a moment, then asked: “Is he treating you right?”

“What?” Bakugo couldn't help but be slightly confused.

“The boyfriend, is he good to you?” Kirishima asked.

“Are you going to defend my honor otherwise or something,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, immensely surprised when Kirishima’s response was: “Yes, if I have to.”

It touched Bakugo’s heart in a way he wasn’t ready to deal with so he just softly said: “He is. Good, I mean. He’s very good. The best, actually. Maybe a bit better than the best.”

That made Kirishima smile. He liked that his friend had someone in his corner, who wasn’t in the middle of the chaos that was their life and could support him. He nodded: “That’s good to hear, Bakubro. I’m happy for you.”

After that it was quiet.

Then, in the softest voice, which was so vulnerable that it broke Kirishima’s heart in little pieces while simultaneously it made him want to punch someone, Bakugo asked: “You are?”

“Yeah, of course, what else should I be?”

“I- I don’t know, disappointed? Angry?” Bakugo sounded helpless in his own confusion.

“Why?”

“That it’s a he.”

Kirishima hated how quickly Bakugo had the answer to that question, so he pulled Bakugo into a side hug and said: “I will never be angry or disappointed because of that. I swear it. And no one else will be either, and if they are they’ll deal with my fists and then with the principle.”

“Thank you,” Bakugo whispered.

“No problem,” Kirishima said back.

They sat there for a moment, then Kirishima confessed: “I’ve been send by the others, because I was least likely to get blown to bits. Uhm, most wanted to say sorry for prying and also that they support you.”

Bakugo chuckled at that. In the silence he had come to terms with the fact that High School might be different and an elated feeling had loosened in his chest. He grinned: “That’s good. Did they also send you to spy?”

Kirishima blushed and quickly said: “I wasn’t going to.”

“So yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well, tell them thanks and also that it’s none of their business, but also that they will catch my hands if I hear them badmouthing him, because he’s an angel.”

“I will,” Kirishima rolled his eyes, then got up, “I’ll give you your time here. Don’t stay out too late.”

“Yes, mom,” Bakugo stuck out his tongue and got a similar gesture in return.

In the end no one saw Bakugo until the next morning, where he pretended nothing had ever happened. Though he did carry himself more lightly and Mina spotted a small rainbow key chain on his bag, which made her smile.

But since he wasn’t acknowledging it any further, neither were they. They would keep their silence until Bakugo was ready to talk about it.

However, they were also way too curious about the mysterious boy that had managed to captivate the most stand-off and anti-social person in their class. The one who had the hardest time befriending people.

He should be lucky they lasted two weeks.

After those two weeks they couldn't take it anymore. So, when Bakugo was once again typing away on his phone Mina exclaimed: “I can’t do this anymore, Bakugo you have to tell me more about your secret boyfriend. I demand to know as fellow queer in crime.”

“You demand to know as nosy asshole, raccoon,” Bakugo retorted.

“Then I demand to know as nosy asshole, just tell me something, anything,” she practically begged.

“Well, if you must know, we’re talking about All Might,” he told her.

“Is he a fan?” Mina would take any bit of information and she watched in wonder as something in Bakugo’s face turned gentle and a smile creeped up his face. He nodded: “The biggest one out there, the idiot.”

“Does he want to be a hero too?” she asked.

“Nah,” Bakugo said, “He wanted to, for a long time, but he’s actually on his way to become a nurse, specializing in hero incidents and support. Always talking about being my back up and making sure I don’t die from recklessness.”

Mina couldn't help but smile at the fond tone in Bakugo’s voice and she mentally adjusted the picture of rough-stone-throwing-hooligan to a softer yet strong teen, who carried an injured Bakugo through the streets.

“That’s so cute,” she squealed.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at her reaction, but secretly agreed. It was very cute how worked up Izu would get over his safety and how he fussed over every little injury while scolding him.

Still, he didn’t give her more information than that, because Izu had finally finished typing his half analysis, half rant over the latest All Might incident report. He was arguing that All Might was loosing power, which Bakugo thought was kinda stupid, so he had to go an tell him that.

With Mina not being completely shut down, the floodgates opened with Hagakure asking about Izu when they were sitting on the couch and Sero during lunch, while others also tried to get a bit of information out of him.

All curious about Izu.

Bakugo would never admit it to another breathing soul, except Izu, but he was touched that they cared so much. That they weren’t trying to ignore the gay part, but were actively trying to learn more about it.

“Then why don’t you say anything, Kacchan?” Izu asked after he had told him about it.

“Because I like having you for myself,” Kacchan pouted.

“Ahw, how sweet,” Izu smiled, he liked how Kacchan would say the most romantic things, just because he was honest at heart and meant it.

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, but Kacchan, it was super sweet, I like the idea of a secret romance, it’s very cute,” he smiled, “But I’m afraid you’ll have to do it by yourself, I showed my friends pictures of you and they follow me online.”

“So you do care about me,” Kacchan teased, knowing how much the other did.

“Of course, I do. You’re the greatest and I love you very much.”

“Love you too.”

“Did you manage to get permission to leave next weekend? Because I can make it home as well and mom promised she’ll make both curry and katsudon, if you come over,” Izu said.

“I still have to hear back from Aizawa-sensei,” he replied, “But I really want to. I need to ask auntie her recipe, mine hasn’t been turning out like hers.”

“You made curry?”

“Yeah, it was my turn to cook and I wanted curry,” Kacchan shrugged.

“That’s so funny to picture,” Izu giggled.

The sound of his boyfriend’s giggles made his heart lighter, but he still said: “Oi, what’s that supposed to mean, I’m a good cook!”

“I guess you’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I will, just you wait.”

“Looking forward to it.” There was a short lull in conversation, then Izu asked: “Have you been eating alright? Since you have to cook, are the others doing their part? A good diet is important, especially with all the physical stuff you have to do. We’re currently having a nutrition course and I’m worried about you.”

“I’m eating fine, Izu, promise,” Kacchan said, “There have been a few we had to ban from the kitchen, but we’re eating fine. I was about to grab a snack actually.”

“Good to hear. What are you grabbing?”

“I don’t know yet. And I’m not grabbing it just now, I’m still talking to you and that’s way more fun.”

“Why can’t you do both?”

“What?”

“I mean, I think I can survive it if you grab a snack while talking to me, Kacchan. I believe in your multitasking skills.”

“That’s not the concern, Izu,” Kacchan whined.

“Ahw, come on. Pretty please, Kacchan? I can help you pick a snack! I have my notes here, I know everything about ultimate snacking,” Izu was starting to get excited, “Just tell me what you’ve eaten and I’ll figure out what nutrients you missed today. They gave us charts.”

Kacchan knew the moment that hint of excitement crept into Izu’s voice, he would be sold. He just couldn't say no to that, so he relented: “Okay, okay,” before telling Izu what he wanted to know and going to the kitchen.

A few of his classmates that were still left at that hour looked up when he entered, some raising their brow at the phone squished between his shoulder and ear. To those he gave a middle finger, because he was too busy listening to Izu ramble to want to talk to them.

“So, what options do we have?” Izu’s voice rang in his ear.

“Got some leftover rice, pocky, umeboshi, some peaches and taiyaki,” he listed, “And like condiments and raw stuff, but I’m not cooking.”

As the only one of their friends here Kaminari was listening in and getting more confused by the second. Why would Bakugo be listing what they had in their kitchen of all things?

Kacchan waited as he listened, before saying: “Oh, really?”

His voice was genuine as if he was interested in the answer he received. He grabbed the rice and listened to whatever the person on the other side of the line was saying.

Then Kacchan said: “You’d do that for me?” a beat, “Wait, wait a second, idiot. I don’t have anything to write here. No, you don’t have to type it out, I can write,” then he hurried up the stairs with his bowl.

The next morning Kaminari asked what that was about and Bakugo shrugged: “Izu’s taking a course about nutrients, he made me an eating chart.”

“Izu?” Kaminari repeated, thinking it was a professional Bakugo went to to stay in shape. He didn’t think it improbably that Bakugo would call a professional idiot.

But then Bakugo blushed and cursed slightly and even Kaminari could put together who the name actually belonged to.

His eyes went wide with the realization.

Bakugo had been secretive about his boyfriend, telling everyone to stop being nosy dicks, which did not at all discourage anyone from trying to find out more, curiosity being fulled by mystery.

Kaminari did the smart thing and stopped talking, only mentioning it to the other during lunch, which surprisingly Bakugo did nothing with.

He didn’t mind that much, he was just scared that if ‘boyfriend’ actually became a person, people would freak out, but so far they all had been nice and Izu was encouraging him to get out of his shell and find confidence in who he was. He also felt like Izu deserved all the praise and not someone who he thought was ashamed of him.

Because he wasn’t.

Bakugo was incredibly proud of his boyfriend, who was not only a lovely and amazing person, but also very talented and deeply caring, while managing to be smart on top of it all.

So when during lunch Kaminari - albeit with an apologetic look - asked: “Izu pick that out for you?” he just sighed, before nodding.

Mina perked up immediately and looked between Bakugo and Kaminari, then back, before her eyes got big with excitement and she asked: “Izu is your boyfriend’s name?”

Deciding to just give in on that point, he explained: “Yeah, well, it’s- it’s a nickname, but it feels weird to say his full name.”

“And I’m guessing you’re not going to give us his full name so we can look him up,” she pouted, already scrolling through the location tag of Bakugo’s home to see if she could find a username with Izu in it.

“No,” Bakugo chuckled, “And you’re not finding him there either. He’s in Tokyo right now.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s becoming a nurse right?” Kirishima recalled.

“Isn’t there that really big nursing school in Tokyo?” Jiro commented, “I heard it’s very prestigious.”

“It is,” Bakugo bragged, “Izu got in top of his class.”

“That’s so cool,” Kaminari said, “Your eating schedule must be super good then.”

Bakugo nodded: “Yeah, he was already working on it. He picked me to focus on for the hero they would have to make a schedule for. He’s an idiot, but it’s sweet, I guess.”

“Ahww,” some of the others commented, before the conversation moved on from there.

He was in a good mood with his friends remembering stuff he’d told them and getting to brag about his boyfriend a bit. A boyfriend that he would probably see that weekend.

The very next day that was gone, he came into class with Aizawa, arguing with his teacher: “You have to let me go, sir. Why can’t I go? Please, you don’t understand.”

“I understand Bakugo, but whatever you have planned can wait another week,” Aizawa said.

“It can’t, it has to be this week.”

“Then I’m very sorry for you, but too many students are already leaving, there just isn’t a spot free. It happens,” Aizawa explained.

“But sir-”

“No, Bakugo, end of discussion,” Aizawa cut him off, leaving Bakugo frustrated and upset. He had his fist and jaw clenched and he was hunched in a fighting stand while simultaneously managing to look very small.

“Bakubro?” Kirishima asked tentatively, “What happened?”

He didn’t want to be this upset, but he had fucking missed Izu so much and he had been looking forwards to it and then it had been crushed right before his eyes. Much to his horror tears were beginning to gather in his eyes.

“Bro?” Kirishima asked again.

“I can’t go home this weekend,” he finally managed to get out, fighting off the tears, “Izu gets to go home too this weekend and we were going to spend it together. I- I just want to see him again, but the spots to go home for the weekend are already full.”

“Oh, Bakugo, that must suck so hard,” Mina sympathized.

Others had similar sentiments, no one had ever seen the explosive blond like that. Then help came from the most unlikely source, Todoroki. He said: “You can have my slot.”

“Really?” Bakugo asked, not even insulting the other boy.

Todorokithought of the awkward and painful family dinner he would have to attend, before nodding firmly: “Yeah, I have nothing important. It can be rescheduled easily.”

“Thank you, Icy-Hot,” Bakugo grinned, lighting up immediately.

Henodded back and that was the end of the conversation.

The weekend came and Bakugo practically ran out of the dorm Friday afternoon, yelling a quick goodbye and muttering something about train arrivals when he passed.

He was on time for the train, even managing to snatch up some flowers on his way to the station and before he knew it, he had an excited green haired boy in his arms again.

It all passed by much faster than Bakugo wanted and before he knew it he was walking back into UA with only memories of doing homework together, picnicking in the park they used to explore as kids, whispering till deep in the night and laughing together in the kitchen.

When he got back the others noticed how he carried himself slightly different and they tried to pry details out of during lunch. He told them nothing more besides: “It was fun.”

Until they were in the dorms and Bakugo walked up to Todoroki, obviously not wanting to, with something in his hands. He trusted out a little packed and said: “Izu would be mad if I didn’t give these to you. They’re a thank you for giving up your spot.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you…” Todoroki said, inspecting the packet.

“They’re cookies, dumbass. You’ve seen those before,” Bakugo snapped.

Mina jumped on his back and cooed: “Ahw, did Izu make cookies.”

“More, me and auntie,” Bakugo snorted, “Izu can do much, but he’s a disaster in the kitchen. He manged to burn water once, that was an experience.”

“I didn’t know you can bake,” Sero said.

“It’s not really I do often and auntie is better at it, I just know how not to burn stuff,” Bakugo shrugged.

“The opposite of your quirk,” Kaminari joked, getting some laughs.

“But you and Izu baked together?” Mina got them back on topic, “What else did you do?”

“None of your business, raccoon,” Bakugo informed her, finally getting her off his back.

She shrugged: “Worth a try.”

“Can I see the cookies, Todoroki?” Hagakure asked.

“Oh, sure,” Todoroki showed her the cookies and she giggled: “They’re All Might shaped.”

“Really?” other went to go see and the cookies were indeed in the shape of All Might’s head with pink icing on it.

“It was the only one we had,” Bakugo blushed, omitting that there had been heart shaped ones as well and he had a packet of those himself that Izu decorated, while he had decorated the ones Izu had taken with him to Tokyo.

After the others tricked Todoroki out of most of his cookies, they went to get started on all the homework they’d gotten today.

Everyone had been nothing but positive about his boyfriend, even his self appointed nemesis had given up his own weekend home for him to go see Izu. With all the nice reactions, Bakugo was pretty certain it wouldn’t be a repeat of Middle School and was commenting more and more about things related to Izu.

He commented that Izu would have loved seeing everyone training to upgrade their quirk, because he loved quirks in general, but especially weaknesses and how they could turn on the user and how to avoid that.

And he explained that katsudon was Izu’s favourite food when they asked him how he’d gotten so good at making it.

But all the good things couldn't stop the bad nights that still plagued him.

So when he had awoken from a nightmare, he called Izu awake, knowing that the other told him to not feel guilty about and to just do it.

In the end he found himself on the kitchen floor, feeling much calmer while Izu finished his story of what a classmate had done that day. When he was done it was quiet for a moment, then Kacchan softly said: “Thank you, Izu.”

“Of course, Kacchan. Try to sleep, okay?” Izu replied, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Kacchan returned, before hanging up.

After he’d hung up, he noticed a form in the doorway. He looked up and saw Kirishima standing in the doorway in his pajama pants. He looked like a deer in headlight and said: “I haven’t been listening in, I just got here.”

“It’s fine,” Bakugo sighed, “free world.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Kirishima noticed the state Bakugo was in.

“No, I just like calling my boyfriend in the middle of the night while he needs his rest as well for fun,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t worry, just tired,” Bakugo rubbed his eyes, regretting snapping at Kirishima, when the cheery boy was one of the last people to deserve it.

Kirishima sat down next to him and said: “It’s okay. I can’t imagine you’re here because you want to be.”

“Tell me about it,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Nah, I got thirsty,” Kirishima said, “Do you want to talk about what woke you up?”

“Not really, Izu already forced me to tell him that was enough for one night,” Bakugo told him, “I was gathering the energy to go back to sleep again.”

“Good that you’re at least talking to someone,” Kirishima said, “Here, I’m making us tea, then we’ll go back to bed together. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

They didn’t speak of the meeting the next morning nor after that, but Kirishima did take up the habit of asking Bakugo if he’d slept well, earning him an eyeroll and Bakugo telling he already had one mother hen in his life.

Though he did answer every time.

It was just life in the dorms. Everyone had gotten used to living with the others and slowly they were becoming more comfortable with each other and turning into a slightly dysfunctional and highly chaotic family.

Which meant that by the time Bakugo was comfortable calling Izu in the common area the others had no qualms about interrupting him.

He had called Izu more often, but usually walked out of the room after a few minutes. However that time period had become longer and longer and he had been talking to Izu for nearly 45 minutes already, mostly telling him about his own day and listening to Izu talk about his.

Right now the conversation had wondered to a recent villain take-down by The Lurkers and the strategy team up of Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods.

So, Mina walked over and whined: “This is boring, Bakugo. Here, gimme the phone,” as she grabbed for his phone.

He ducked and shouted: “Oi, raccoon, leave me the fuck alone.”

“But Bakugo, I wanna talk to Izu,” Mina pouted, grabbing for the phone again, “You’re being boring and it’s not fun to listen in if you’re talking about heroes. We already hear about heroes constantly.”

“You’re not talking to him, piss off,” Bakugo danced away from Mina’s hand, but she was on his tail and they were running around the table.

As they ran Izu’s confused voice came over the speaker: “Kacchan?”

“Sorry, Izu, I’m being chased!” Bakugo yelled.

“Are you okay?” Izu asked concerned.

“Yeah, just a raccoon on my tale.”

“I’m not a raccoon!”

“You mean Mina?” Izu laughed.

“Yes!” Bakugo yelpedright as he tripped onto the couch. Mina immediate took the chance and jumped to wrestle the phone out of his hands.

Success.

She ran off with her prize, holding the phone to her ear as she greeted: “Hi, Izu! I don’t know your full name, but I’m Mina, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Mina, I’m Izuku,” a light and friendly voice greeted her.

“Bakugo only ever gives us grains about you,” Mina said, “So, tell me more.”

“Oh, uhm, I- I don’t really know. I- uh, I like heroes, you were really cool at the sports festival, I was really rooting for you,” Izu answered, voice getting more steady once he got talking about her quirk, “I do hope you’re immune to your own acid or that would be a problem.”

“It’s not a problem, but it’s fun that your brain jumps to that with you becoming a hero nurse,” Mina said.

“Oh, haha, didn’t even realize that,” Izuku chuckled awkwardly.

At this point Bakugo had freed himself from Sero and Kaminari, who had aided Mina in her quest to talk to Izuku and was going after her again, while having the two boys on his own trail, who in turn had Kirishima after them to stop them from stopping Bakugo.

Mina set off running again, panting into the phone: “Your boyfriend is chasing me, help. What do I say to calm him down? You’re the Bakugo whisperer.”

Izuku laughed at that, before telling her to put him on speaker. She did and he called out: “Kacchan, Kacchan!”

“Nerd,” Bakugo yelled back, “Are you okay.”

“I’m fine, Kacchan,” Izuku shouted back, “It’s fun, come on, it’s not the end of the world. Pinky promise I won’t tell them about the ant incident.”

Bakugo stopped chasing Mina, much to her delight and surprise. He just walked over to her, no more threatening steps, and just said: “You promise?”

“I promise,” Izuku said, “You can put me on speaker and I can say hi to people. I heard so much about them, but never even said hi. Pretty please?”

“Okay, okay.”

Sero coughed: “Whipped,” and subsequently got an elbow in the side from Mina, who didn’t want this opportunity to get taken from her.

Bakugo took the phone back and walked to the couch, where he sat down. Mina, Hagaure, Kaminari, Sero and Kirishima all crouched around the phone and Jiro also made her way over from where she had been ignoring most of the chaos.

Izuku greeted everyone first: “Hi, I’m Midoriya Izuku, it’s nice to meet you all, whoever is there with Kacchan right now.”

Kaminari giggled: “Kacchan.”

“Shut up,” Bakugo blushed.

“I’m Kaminari Denki,” Kaminari ignored Bakugo.

“I m Kirishima Eijiro.” Kirishima said cheerily, “Hi!”

“Sero Hanta, nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Hagakure Toru, I’m so excited to hear from you.”

“Oh, and I’m Jiro Kyoka,” Jiro added.

“And I’m still here as well!” Mina said.

“Hello everyone,” there was clearly a smile in Midoriya’s voice, “I’ll try to remember all your names, some are familiar, so I think I’ll manage, but sorry if I mess up.”

“Of course, no problem,” Hagakure said.

“Do you have anything embarrassing about Bakugo we could use against him?” Kaminari asked.

“Probably,” Midoriya said, “Though, I don’t know if he’ll like metelling you. He can be a bit grumpy when I turn on him and I would like to keep my cuddle privileges.”

“I doubt you can loose them with how Bakugo raves on about you,” Kirishima said, hardening his side for the elbow he knew was coming.

“Ahw, he talks about me?” Midoriya said.

“It’s adorable,” Hagakure told him.

“That’s so nice to hear. He was really scared of opening up, it’s good that he’s comfortable around you all. You’re really good friends, even if he isn’t the best at telling you all,” Midoriya was audibly relieved and the ones around the phone were strangely proud of making that tone appear.

“And we’re glad he has you to talk to,” Kirishima added, “You sound really manly and cool, bro.”

“You guys done with your circle jerk,” Bakugo grouched.

“Don’t be mean, Kacchan,” Midoriya admonished.

“How did you two meet?” Mina asked, not minding a topic change.

“We’ve always known each other,” Midoriya said, “We lived in the same neighborhood and played in the same playground since we were little. High School is the first time we’ve been apart for so long ever.”

“Ahw, a childhood friends to lovers trope,” Hagakure gushed.

“Kind of, yeah,” Midoriya laughed.

“We still didn’t get the embarrassing stories,” Kaminari whined as Sero loudly agreed, much to Bakugo’s displeasure.

“Well, there was that time with the cold,” Midoriya mused.

“Izu, no,” Bakugo said horrified.

“Midoriya, please tell us!” the others cheered.

“Sorry, Kacchan, majority rules,” Midoriya said, a bit of little shit shining through, “So, Kacchan had a cold, but he came to school anyway, because he’s an idiot.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Than take offense, babe, it was stupid,” Midoriya shot back, “He had no voice at all left, Little Mermaid style, and was carrying around a notebook to communicate. He had a bit of a croak left, but he definitely shouldn’t be talking.”

They were all listening closely, except for Bakugo who was pouting and leaning back, but he wasn’t interrupting. He liked listening to Izu talk even if it was to embarrass him in front of his friends.

“But then some kids came up to me during recess,” Midoriya went on, “And they were calling me names, just being mean, not important.”

“It is important, they were dicks,” Bakugo groused.

“Yeah, Kacchan, I know, but it’s not now the point, don’t deflect,” Midoriya said, “So, Kacchan comes to save me, very sweet of him, my own prince in shining armor.”

Hagakure, Mina and Kirishima cooed at that.

“However, while it was very sweet, Kacchan had forgotten that he didn’t have a voice,” there was a bit laughter, “So, when he came running, yelling, there was no yelling, just a soft little long croak like so.”

Midoriya imitated a frog like croak, causing more laughter and giggles.

“And that wasn’t even the end, because the little croak didn’t stop him. He pushed them away and told them they were dick bags, but all that came out was bags,” Midoriya finished, “He was Mr. Bagsfor weeks.”

There were peels of laughter and chocked off repeated of ‘Mr. Bags’ while Bakugo pushed them away with a ‘shut up.’

“Tells us more, tell us more,” was chanted, but then a sort of loud alarm went of in the background.

Bakugo seized the phone and asked: “Are you okay, Izu?”

“I’m fine, Kacchan,” Midoriya didn’t sound shaken or scared, which calmed everyone, “It’s a training exercise. Some second years told me about it, it’s because you can’t count on normal hours when supporting heroes and they can need you at any moment. I have to go respond to the call. Talk to you later. It was nice to meet you all. Love you, Kacchan.”

“Love you too. Good luck,” Bakugo was just in time before Midoriya hung up.

It was quiet for a moment, then Kaminari chocked: “Kacchan,” and everyone lost it again.

“Oh, shut up, he started calling me that when we were like three,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, but he couldn't mind the laughter that much after talking with Izu and his friends being nice to his boyfriend after all the shit he had meeting new people.

“Midoriya is such a sweetheart,” Hagakure told him, “He’s such a pleasant person.”

“Yeah, not at all Mr. Stone Thrower, I imagined him to be,” Mina agreed.

“Stone thrower?” Bakugo frowned.

“You don’t wanna know,” Kirishima told him and Bakugo decided it would be better not to ask, so he just said: “Alright. But Izu isn’t that sweet. Well, he is, of course, but he can be a little shit. Didn’t you just hear him, be mean to me?”

“Ahw, little Kacchan has a boo-boo on his ego,” Kaminari managed before Bakugo jumped him.

“Don’t call me Kacchan,” he yelled.

“What else should we call you then,” Sero grinned from the couch, “Mr. Bags.”

“I hate you all!”

“But we’re really good friends, Bakubro,” Kirishima teased.

“Not you too. I’ll kill you,” Bakugo screamed, but no one could take his threats seriously after the sweet and kind voice of Midoriya had just told them how much Bakugo secretly cares about them and called him ‘Kacchan.’

Later Mina would pout and tell him she couldn't find Midoriya Izuku anywhere online and Bakugo would grin and shrug, not sharing that his boyfriend’s username was @AllMightssuperfan everywhere. Izu had been religious about online safety and had never shared his name on any of his accounts.

And the next time he was calling with Izu, multiple people told him to say hi, with Sero grinning: “Tell your nice half hi from me.”

He was glad that the others liked Izu. His boyfriend had had enough trouble with people being mean to him for no reason, but his friends had taken a liking to him almost instantly.

Though they seem to have a mental picture of Izu in which he was a sweetheart. This in itself wasn’t a lie, Izu was one of the kindest people Kacchan knew, but it wasn’t just kindness. The other could be ruthless if he was angry and was a bigger trouble magnet than Kacchan with a dose of little shit built in permanently.

Still, Bakugo was trying to think of a way to introduce his friends to his boyfriend, but with the safety measures surrounding UA that was more difficult than expected.

Luckily it soon happened by chance.

Class 1-A would be going to a training exercise in Tokyo, where they would learn to be mindful of property destruction and building safety.

The training exercise would have taught them how to spot when a building was about to fall, how certain walls and pillars were integral to the structure staying upright and how they could see if there were important electric wires or water lines in the ground.

However, it was Class 1-A and things never really went the way they wanted and planned, so naturally the class was attacked while at the training facility that lay between multiple schools in the area.

Though, since it was also Class 1-A they had enough experience to fight off the attack without any life-threatening injuries. So, they were only mildly scraped up and injured by the time they defeated the villains.

They were barely catching their breath when a form of green was running towards them, multiple people on their trail. As the person got closer they heard them yell: “Kacchaaaaan!!”

Bakugo whipped his head up and Kirishima, Mina and Jiro dredged themselves up into a protective stance at this newcomer, until Momo commented: “Huh, that’s the uniform of the nursing school nearby.”

That comment and name tickled something in the back of their minds, but they were tired and the pieces wouldn’t yet click.

The person was nearby and they saw it was a green haired boy with freckles and a face that was more prone to laughter even if it was frowning now. He shouldered past Kirishima and Mina, who were in his way more prominently, before kneeling next to Bakugo and grabbing the first aid kit that hung around his shoulder.

“Hey,” Kirishima said, though he didn’t stop the boy, seeing that he was friendly.

“Izu?” Bakugo said, horridly confused.

At that everyone turned and looked at the boy, wide eyes as finally it all added up. He had called Bakugo Kacchan and wore the uniform of a Tokyo nursing school. With Bakugo identifying him, it was easy to see that this was his boyfriend.

However, before any of the could react, Midoriya was scolding Bakugo: “You absolute, idiot. Do you know how worried I was? We got a warning there was a villain attack ongoing and then I heard yourexplosions and when I looked out the window I saw you fall. You know better than to go that high.”

“I’m sorry, Izu, but-”

“You can save your sorry, Kacchan,” Izu huffed, “Let me check you over first. Are there any spots you landed on or that ache?”

“My ribs,” Kacchan decided it was better to let his boyfriend fuss, feeling bad about worrying the already natural anxious boy.

The rest of the class stood in shocked silence at the interaction. Then the people following Midoriya arrived, apologizing to Aizawa as one explained: “Midoriya ran out before we could stop him, I apologize on his behalf as class president. We’re Class 1-A of Tokyo School of Nursing, nearby. We also came to help if needed, but we’re only first years.”

They showed their first aid kits and Aizawa said: “It’s fine, I suppose. Don’t cause any trouble. I’ll see if we can get police on sight and medical professionals with a license.”

“I’m sure a few of our teachers will be here soon, but we’ll see what we can do,” the class president bowed along with the other four students that had run after Midoriya, before setting to work, checking everyone over and tending to their wounds when possible.

Kirishima and Mina were being looked over, while gawking at Bakugo and Midoriya. Midoriya had checked over Bakugo’s ribs and bandaged them and was now cleaning the cuts on his face, while saying: “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Sorry, Izu,” Kacchan replied, “I don’t mean to get caught up in these things.”

“I know and I’m going to have to get used to this, aren’t I?” Izu sniffled, “I just saw you fall and I reacted before I even knew.”

“Hey, I’ll be more careful, promise,” Kacchan said.

“You better, I’m telling on you to auntie next time I see her, maybe I’ll even call her tonight and next time you’re over we’re not eating curry,” Izu’s jaw set, “I’m pissed at you for throwing your life so easily in the balance. I thought your whole thing was to learn to save people, include yourself in the definition of people.”

“I do that!” Kacchan squawked indignantly.

“Sure, whatever you say, Kacchan,” Izu obviously didn’t believe him, “That’s why you always died a dramatic death every time we played hero.”

“You were just as dramatic, weeping over my death,” Kacchan protested.

“Of course, my knight in shining armor disappeared,” Izu laughed, “Now, you need to watch those wounds. I don’t think they need stitches, but I would advise against touching them and make sure they don’t start to get infected. The moment they show signs of swelling, discoloration or heating up, you go tell someone.”

Kacchan listened closely to the instructions and Izu finished: “Also try not to put any strain on your ribs. No sudden movements, no jumping, no twisting. Rest them. You hear me, Kacchan, rest.”

“Yeah,” Kacchan nodded, before smirking, “But you forgot something.”

“What?” Izu frowned, going over the steps mentally, trying to figure out what he skipped and how Kacchan would even know that.

“You still have to kiss it better,” Kacchan informed him with a grin.

Izu sighed, but there was a small smile playing around his lips as he said: “That’s not very professional, now is it, Mr. Bakugo?”

“I think you can hardly call that scolding you just gave me professional, angel,” Kacchan shot back.

“Touche,” Izu agreed, before leaning in and kissing the scrapes on Kacchans knuckles and cheek, before kissing him on his lips and whispering, “I’m not kissing your ribs in public.”

At that Kacchan blinked the dazed, sappy look out of his eyes and remembered his class was right there and he wasn’t alone with his boyfriend. With the elation of seeing Izu wearing off and making way for embarrassment, he blushed heavily.

“Ahw, blush-y Kacchan, so cute,” Izu commented, not at all feeling bad for his boyfriend’s embarrassment.

Mina practically skipped forward when the student tending to the gash in her arm finally let her go. She stuck out her hand: “I’m Ashido Mina, we met on the phone, I believe.”

“Midoriya Izuku, you’d be correct,” Midoriya smiled, shaking her hand, “Kacchan really told me so much about you all, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“And I’m Kirishima Eijiro,” Kirishima wanted to make contact, before either Bakugo or Aizawa dragged them away.

“Oh, hi!” Midoriya said, “Kacchan was right about the hair being dramatic, I like your costume. It fits really well.”

“Ah, thanks,” Kirishima blushed, “It’s Crimson Riot inspired.”

“You’re a fan?” Midoriya asked, “Good choice, he’s great. Him during All Mights Silver Age was unrivaled. Their team up was so cool.”

“I know right,” Kirishima was glad someone saw how right his opinion was.

“Enough boring bullshit,” Mina pushed him away, “I want to get your social media @ because I couldn't find you anywhere.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” Midoriya rubbed the back of his head, “It’s @AllMightssuperfan.”

She quickly typed something, before grinning: “Now I’m following you. I have to say it’s been a trip to meet you.”

“I can imagine thatno one thought this would be the meeting, yes,” Midoriya smiled.

Bakugo walked up behind him, not liking his boyfriend leaving him for his friends. He put his head on Midoriya’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s waist, not letting up his scowl as he said: “You’re also an idiot for running towards an active attack.”

“It was already ending by the time I arrived,” Midoriya waved it away.

“I can still be mad about that,” Bakugo pouted.

“Suppose you can,” Midoriya shrugged, leaning his head against Bakugo’s, “I will try to be more careful, but just as your job is going to become running into danger, mine is going to be running after you.”

“Ahww,” Hagakure gushed, finally having made her way over to the other.

Midoriya looked confused for a moment at the sound of a new voice before he spotted the gloves, then he greeted: “You must be Hagakure Toru.”

“I am!”

“You’re not injured are you?” Midoriya frowned, “It would be hard to see if you’re hit.”

“Ah, yes, it would,” Hagakure said, “But don’t worry, I’m fine!”

“That’s good to hear,” Midoriya smiled, before he mused to himself, “There isn’t really much training about what to do when you can’t see the patient, say that she ever gets knocked unconscious.”

“Stop mumbling, Izu,” Bakugo snapped him out of it.

“Oh, sorry, I get caught up in my head,” Midoriya apologized.

But before he could get back to talking with Bakugo’s classmates a severe looking lady sternly called out: “Midoriya Izuku, come here right now.”

Midoriya stiffened, before whispering: “That’s my homeroom teacher. Sorry, gotta go,” the he hurried over to the lady.

She put her hands on her hips, before scolding: “What on earth were you thinking, running off in the middle of class like that? Towards a fight, no less. That was very dangerous young man and you will be punished accordingly.”

“Sorry, sensei,” Midoriya said softly, then he looked up defiantly, “But I still stand by my decision to run.”

“What?” the teacher exclaimed, along with a few bystanders.

Kirishima hissed into Bakugo’s ear: “What is he doing? He’s already in trouble.”

Bakugo smiled, looking a bit proud, then answered: “He might be an idiot, but he is an idiot with a heart. If he thinks he did the right thing, he will stand by it.”

“If we’re just going of response,” Midoriya indeed defended himself, “I was here first. Actual licensed medical professionals had to be called after the fact. You always press how importance time is and how it can save or costs life, sensei. We got extra experience and ensured that if there had been serious injuries, we could hold down the fort until an ambulance got here.”

The teacher hesitated, then her shoulders sagged slightly. She smiled gently then said: “I appreciate your fire, Midoriya. Still we’re responsible for you and this was a very dangerous thing to do. You could have been hurt as well.”

“I wouldn’t, Kacchan would have protected me,” Midoriya stated as if it was a fact, “But I understand, sensei. I will accept any punishment you see fit and I will try not to do it again.”

“That’s all I can ask,” the teacher said, she understood a bit better, having heard the nickname ‘Kacchan’ many times when her students could talk during her classes.

“Kacchan?” Aizawa asked, having joined the teacher to also scold the boy, “You mean Bakugo Katsuki?”

“Yes, I’m his boyfriend,” Midoriya smiled sweetly, making Bakugo blush when Aizawa looked his way and as his friends jeered.

“Well, then I think you’re quite right in your assessment of the Problem Child,” Aizawa said, “But it was still dangerous.”

“I understand, Eraser Head,” Midoriya bowed again, “Still, thank you for keeping him safe and not turning away our help.”

“And thank you for your help, despite the illogical reason behind it,” Aizawa said, “Now, I want to speak to your teacher, so enjoy the time with Bakugo, please do not do anything more stupid and stay in sight.”

Midoriya blushed, but said nothing, just bowing before rushing back to Bakugo.

“I would have protected you, would I?” Bakugo teased when he returned.

“Shut up, you would,” Midoriya pouted.

“Yeah, I would,” Bakugo said proudly.

“You actually talked back to Aizawa,” Kirishima said and Hagakure asked: “Weren’t you scared? He’s so intimidating at first.”

“It was terrifying, I don’t know why I did that,” Midoriya’s face was anxiety filled.

“Because you knew you were right,” Bakugo said, kissing his forehead, “You did well standing up for yourself. Hope you won’t be in too much trouble.”

Midoriya smiled at Bakugo’s encouragement. He waved the concern away: “Sensei is more bark than bite. She looks sterner than she is, she was just concerned after I ran out of class.”

“I can understand that,” Hagakure said.

“So manly,” Kirishima commented.

At that Midoriya giggled: “You actually do say it. I thought Kacchan was being dramatic about it. Sorry that sounded rude, I think it’s fun actually.”

“He talks about us?” Mina asked.

“Of course,” Midoriya sounded surprised at the question, “He talks about everyone in your class. It’s sometimes like I know all of you already. I’m very impressed with how far all of you’ve come in comparison to the start of the year. Kacchan tells me how hard you all work.”

Mina pulled him into a hug and said: “You’re so cute, Midoriya. I am so messaging you online, we need to be friends.”

“I’d love that,” Midoriya smiled.

Bakugo pulled Midoriya back and scowled: “Stop pulling on my boyfriend. I haven’t seen him in weeks, piss off.”

“Sharing is caring, Bakubro,” Kirishima teased.

“Sharing can go fuck itself,” Bakugo grouched and Midoriya snorted, before saying: “Missed you too, babe.”

They continued talking until Midoriya was called back to go to class. Kacchan and Izu drew out their goodbye for as long as they could manage until Izu had to stop waving and Kacchan disappeared out of sight.

Class 1-A mentally adjusted the image they had both of Bakugo and Midoriya.

Seeing Bakugo be himself completely, taking a scolding with understanding and demanding kisses from his boyfriend, added a layer to the grumpy boy they usually saw.

Midoriya had already undergone an entire transformation in the minds of most. From the stone throwing boyfriend they had imagined to gentle giant to the defiant yet kind person they had met today, who would do what was right, but still only lost that last bit of anxiousness when he was with Bakugo.

They were excited for him to graduate and hoped to see him have their backs again in the future.

A/N:

Idk if my idea for Midoriya really came through, but I imagine that hero agencies have personal medical staff to ensure that there will be medical aid if hospitals have a crisis or if the injuries aren’t big enough for injuries. These will be educated for quirk related injuries and since Izu is becoming one to support Kacchan, he will try and focus his assignments on his boyfriend, which is allowed after the sports festival.

I’m not keeping to canon bc I want them to actually meet Izu and I really wanted it to go like this, so a weird extra attack thingy it is. At first, I wanted to do something with the provisional hero license exam, but I felt it wouldn’t go well with the fic.

One thing, I really like it imagining how Bakugo would be if he didn’t have a festering resentment that grew for years, but instead actual support. And how Midoriya would be if he had a chance to develop confidence.

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do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger · 4 years ago

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EXT. The Roof (Winter) - Sunset

Not Just Attracted to Women!Peter Maximoff x Fem and Not Just Attracted to Men!Reader

Based off of a dream I recently had: Peter and Y/N have a conversation on the roof of Xavier's in mid-December. Peter accidentally lets it slip that he might not be straight, and he is afraid that Y/N will think less of him because of it because this is the 80s. Y/N reveals that she is also not straight, and is saddened by the fact that Peter could think that she could ever hate him- especially for that. She calls him wonderful. Feelings ensue. Also, a touch of Cherik at the end because I give the people what they want.

Warnings: Swearing, Peter cries, internalized homophobia (this is the 80s-ish and Peter uses the word 'queer' in a kind of incorrect and kind of offensive manner, but it was internalized homophobia and not actually intended to be mean to anyone but himself so I forgive him), a touch of angst but mostly fluff, Charles called you two "children" even though you are obviously not, Erik is happy that his son has someone that cares about him the way you do, Peter is insecure but not super blunt about it, Peter has been deprived of being adored his entire life, bad writing, I mention a serial killer twice, historical inaccuracy because the word queer was still a slur so yeah.

A/N: This is literally the first thing I have ever written so please be nice to me, I wrote this instead of an essay. I would love a comment of any kind, even if it's just a heart emoji or something, and constructive criticism would be highly appreciated. Also 'N/N' stands for nick-name.

(Ok, so, full discloser: the format is odd. The bullet points represent dialogue, and the only dialogue is between you two love birds. The first bullet point is Peter, the second is Y/N, the third is Peter, and so on.)

“I dunno, the whole ‘liking people’ thing has always been weird for me.”

“How do you mean?"

“Pppffftt- 'how do you mean,' what are you, Shakespeare or somethin’?”

“Yeah, because that’s the era when ‘how do you mean' would have been a popular term. Ok, what do you mean?”

“Just- when other people were liking people I never really was?”

He was gesturing wildly and avoiding eye contact, as always. He wasn't uncomfortable with eye contact, he just got bored easily in conversations, he needed to keep himself occupied. In this situation that meant staring at the red and green lights covering the rest of the roof, the snowy trees all over the yard, and a holly garland around the gate. Peter wasn't Christian, but man, did he love their Christmas decorations.

“Like… now? In school?”

“Well- yeah… but also when I was younger. And I never liked the right people? Or... liked them in the right way?”

“So you’ve never liked anyone.”

“No, no… I definitely have. It was just… weird! I don't-”

His hands dropped to his side in defeat.

“I don’t think it’s that out of the ordinary. I would tell you if it was. Also, if it was... 'weird', like you said, that wouldn’t mean it was necessarily bad.”

He hadn’t really heard what she said, he was too busy pondering what his next sentence would be. When she wasn't speaking, he was rambling.

"I had some of the normal crap… like in movies when they talk about the fluttery stomach junk. I've had that around a few girls I've been friends with, also that phase with the boy stuff, a-"

“Wait, what phase with the boy stuff?”

“Like- when you’re in middle school or whatever and you're gay for a second.”

His phrasing was a joke, but the statement as a whole was not.

“…‘Gay for a second’?”

“…Yeah?”

“Hmmm..."

"Is that- not-"

"I don't think that is... 'normal'... per-say..."

“Oh… Really?”

His heart sunk.

“…Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“…Mhm.”

“…Shit.”

He suddenly looked almost embarrassed. He shifted his posture, seemingly trying to shrink into himself.

“Do you... wanna chat about it?”

Panic started to slowly rise in him.

“Um- forget I said anything.”

“Why?”

Something in him said to go on the "defense". He did not appear as calm as he was intending to.

“I’m not- gay! or anything. I like girls! I do!”

She put her hand on his arm.

“Hey- look at me for a second. We are not in court, and I never 'accused' you of being gay. That would be a very funny reality TV show, but not what is happening right now. Listen, theoretically if you were gay that wouldn’t be bad! And I wouldn’t be… whatever you.. think that I would be? I mean- however you are afraid I would act in a negative reaction to it? I would try to be here for you, and be as supportive as possible.”

He didn’t believe her.

“Ok, sure.”

“Peter.”

“What? You’re going to tell me that you would honestly be friends with a queer person- be friends with me if I was... not... normal?”

She was taken aback by his tone, the word he had used, and the way he said it, felt like a weight dropping on her shoulders.

“Oh. would you… not?”

It was her turn to seem nervous.

“What?”

“Would you- stop being friends with someone for liking someone that they… I don’t know… shouldn’t... would be the word I guess?”

Why, in this situation, was she nervous? Oh. His fear was replaced with guilt.

“No.”

“Ok.”

“So… are you… do you… why were you scared?”

“... Why were you?”

She expected a joke from him, something along the lines of “touché".

“Are you… gay?”

“No.”

Yeah, he didn’t believe her.

“Uh-huh”

“Really, I’m not. I’ve liked boys, but also... I've had feelings for girls. I’m not… straight. So I just want to let you know that it’s okay if you aren’t too.”

“I never s-“

She smiled at him with a bit of pity, she had been there. The self-loathing, the feeling of walking on minefields with so many people in your life.

“You are…”

She paused.

“I am… what?”

“Give me a second I’m trying to find the perfect word.”

“… Okay?”

“Wonderful.”

That was not exactly the word he was expecting. Like, at all.

“Huh?”

“That’s the word. Wait- let me start over. You gotta look me in my eyes as I say it, because it’s gonna be really poetic.”

“Uh… should I be scared?”

“No. Maybe a little. No.”

“… Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You are… wonderful.”

“Oh... Thanks?“

He looked away again, to be honest, he was a bit uncomfortable. He rarely received compliments, especially ones that seem so... genuine.

“I’m not finished, look back at me, just for a second. You are so wonderful- and I will support you as whatever you are! I want you to know that I can- I can barely even think of something you could do that would make me genuinely hate you- like… maybe if you Dahmer-ed people or like chopped up a-“

He found this was amusing, yet disturbing.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry- I just- the fact that you thought, even for a second, that I could hate you… is just-“

“I’m sorry”

“No! Stop it. Don’t be sorry.”

She stared at him expectantly.

“What do you want me to-“

“Take it back! The sorry!”

“How?”

“Say you aren’t sorry”

“N/N-“

“Peter.”

“Ok. I’m, ya know, not sorry.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be”

“You’re weird.”

“Yuh-huh. Says the most likely, from the little information I've gathered, bisexual in denial who also happens to be the fastest boy on earth who had to slow down exponentially to interact with other people who also, also, happens sitting on a roof in the dead of winter with me.”

“What’s by smexual?”

Something about the way he attempted to repeat her words must have been hilarious, he thought, because here she was, sitting in front of him, in a fit of childish giggles. He would smile if he weren't so confused.

“No- that’s not- what I said- it’s… wait!”

“What?”

“You’re tryna get me off topic!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are t- shit.”

“HAHA! Victory is a sweet dessert... wait is that even the saying? Still, I win you lose, nerd.”

“Ok, okay! go on.”

She was attempting to gather herself to give off a less jokey aura. It was half working, the "am not! are too!" argument a few moments ago made it hard for him to take her seriously, but he could tell it was important to her that he did, so he tried his best.

“You have to look at me again. just for a second.”

“I sw-”

“Just do it? Please?”

His attempt to put up a fight was thwarted by her small "please". He was pathetic.

“Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You…”

“Me… or- wait- I…”

“Are w-“

“Wonderful, yeah yeah. just get to the n-”

“No.”

“… No?”

“When you say it it doesn’t encapsulate it. It sounds silly.”

“Ok little miss ‘you art thou wonderful’, how would you have me say it?”

“I am you wonderful?”

“What?”

“You called me ‘little miss you are you wonderful’ what does that-“

“Ok! Would you just- shut up and call me wonderful one more time, please?”

She looked at him and blinked. That sentence surely came off as less ironic than intended.

“You are wonderful.”

She grabbed his face, in a half-joking manner. Her grab smushed his cheeks and she couldn't help but laugh a bit when she did it. Even though it was clearly a bit, he was still flustered.

“W-“

She shook him a bit.

"Shut up 'cause I'm about to say some beautiful and true shit. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are absolutely, unchangingly, and irrevocably wonderful and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, Maximoff.”

After saying what she would (in 40 years or so) recall as a painfully John Green-ish statement in her blunt and matter-of-fact manner, she let go of her semi-ironic hold on his pink cheeks. Were his cheeks pink because it was absolutely freezing, or because his heart was beating faster than he had ever (and would ever, mind you) run, you ask? No comment.

“Wow.”

“Wow what.”

“You do say it better than I do.”

“Did you like how I stressed different parts of the sentence each time? I thought that was a nice detail.”

“Wow.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Wow.”

Did his voice just... break a little?

“Peter?”

“Uh- yeah?”

Was he a little... sniffle-y? She was now very concerned.

“Are you okay?!”

“Oh- um... yeah!”

No! No he was clearly not! He was sniffling!

“Really? 'Cause, you don't seem it.”

“It’s just- I just- wow.”

“Wow, what!?”

“That was just- uh-"

“Just what? It really wasn't that fancy, you seem much too impressed with me. Oh my God, was it terrible?”

“I mean it was really corny but w-“

“I swear to God if you say 'wow' one more time I may have to add ‘use of the word wow too much’ to the list of things that could make me hate you. Right next to the Dahmer stuff. That was a joke. Your use of the word wow is only mildly perturbing. Sorry."

She was panicking "just a bit".

“I’m sorry, I mean I’m not sorry. Sorry. Shit! sorry! I mean I’m not!”

And he was absolutely... full-on crying at this point.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

He was looking down at his mittens. Not that this is important, but they were very pretty mittens.

“Look at me, you klepto.”

He didn’t.

“You know- I’ve been hearing a lot of that 'look at me' stuff from you today. I mean- the klepto part is new-“

“Peter.”

“What?!”

He peaked up at her.

“Talk to me. Please, you're kinda scaring me, let me help.”

“I’m not sad!”

“You’re crying!”

“Yeah but not from the sads!”

“… The ‘sads’?”

“You know- when you get sad! It just means being sad! I don't- that’s what Wanda calls it, not me!"

He wiped his nose, tears still running down from his puffy eyes to his reddened cheeks.

“What are you crying from?”

“No one’s ever called me wonderful before.”

“I'm sorry! I did a few minutes ago and you didn’t cry!”

“No! You can't 'sorry' me if I can't 'sorry' you! And- yeah but that doesn’t count!”

“Why?”

“Because it only felt big when you said it the certain way!”

“What way!?”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks-“

“I'm sorry about that by the way I was j-“

“No! It’s really ok! Do it whenever! I mean don’t do it whene- shut up!”

“I’m not even talking! You're the one talking!”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks, and you go: you are wonderful.”

“Yeah???”

“No one ever called me that before!”

"Peter, I- well- they- they should! They should! More often! Then the amount that it happens now! I think. In my opinion."

"Or really looked at me like that!”

“Looked at you like what, Peter?”

“Like I was somethin’!”

“Well, you are… ‘somethin'! Whatever that means! And- I think you deserve to be looked at as such!”

“See?”

“What!?”

“You just-“

A strangled sob escaped from his throat. He didn't know how to explain.

“Pete.”

“Ew. I hate that nickname.”

He crossed his arms over his chest like a toddler, trying to completely ignore the fact that he was an emotional wreck.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

She opened her arms and gestured for him to come closer. He was hesitant at first- but gave up all the reasons he shouldn't move to be closer to her in exchange for the promise of comfort she was offering him. He crawled over to her and curled up in her arms. The way she held him made him want to cry more. Who does she think she is- holding him like he was worth holding? With her chin sitting on top of his hair? Letting him do that gross cry sob with the spit and the snot into her only winter coat? Rocking him, and shushing him, and petting his stupid, silver hair? She was warm, too! The audacity of this woman.

When Erik brought Charles into his office to grab a chess set, they saw the two in the window. For a moment Charles considered telling Peter and Y/N to get off of the high platform, seeing as the two were the reasons the "no sitting on the roof" rule was enacted in the first place (neither of them were coordinated whatsoever). Charles quickly dropped this notion when he saw the look on Erik's face, Charles could tell it made him so happy to see Peter be held like that, cared for like that. Erik's expression made Charles want to both tell Erik that he is the most precious thing in the world, and make fun of him (look at Mr. Metal, gone completely soft). Possibly he could do both at the same time. But for now, he is just going to pretend he didn't see the two outside of the window, and have Erik grab them their game, go to the living room, and pretend not to have read Erik's mind when he inevitably asks him how he always manages to pick the white chess piece at "random".

#is this even good #i wrote this instead of an essay #peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x reader #me 🤝 commas #me 🤝 ... okay #the quality of this fic 📈📉📈📉📈

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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years ago

Note

ok dorcas and marlene as chaotic professors at the same university? could be an AU, could just be Hogwarts

As told in Text Conversations:

Groupchat: Picasso is a Bitch

Dorcas: New Teacher alert.

Lily: Department?

Dorcas: Engineering

Remus: Sounds hot

Dorcas: shut up immediately.

Remus: you’re not my mom

Lily: M or F

Dorcas: F

Remus: Dammit

Lily: seem nice?

Dorcas: idk. I didn’t get the chance to actually talk to her. It was more like a moment in passing. She was surrounded by guys, though

Remus: what a lesbian move

Lily: how… how is that even a thing?

Remus: Lils, are you dumb? If girls ONLY hang out with guys, chances are they’re butch. Or they know they aren’t attracted to guys and are wild as fuck and have nothing to lose. They have no one to impress, really. Those are the only two options.

Dorcas: Jesus

Remus: No, I’m sure he wasn’t there

Dorcas: I have to leave this conversation before I physically kill Remus Lupin. Talk to you both later.

Lily: Lunch in our usual spot?

Remus: Tell me if you see the Lesbian again.

Remus: Also, where the fuck is Alice?

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead

Sirius: Well lads, I dropped off the love of our lives at school. Felt like a proud parent. Almost cried.

Marlene: You are aware that I know how to make explosives from scratch right? I’ve been aching to do it for a while, so you wanna keep doing this? Is this happening?

James: I need him, though. We’re gonna get married eventually. So no. You are not allowed to blow him up

Marlene: Fuck

Peter: How's the new campus?

Marlene: Small. I mean, it’s a lot smaller of a university, harder to get into and all that. But still. For a place that boasts a great deal of wealth, they certainly don’t show it in building size.

Sirius: That’s how you know they have money. They have nothing to prove. Classic rich people move.

Peter: You should know.

James: Did you get settled though, Mars?

Marlene: Enough. I still have to set up the lecture hall to my liking, but it’s nice to have an office that will probably be permanent. And I saw your door just a few down from mine, Jamie boy! Sirius: I should have become a professor. I feel left out. I hate being left out.

Peter: You have the right degree, Paddy. You could be a professor if you wanted.

Sirius: Desk jobs are gross. No thank you. Also, children.

Marlene: It’s not a desk job. And, like, these children are basically full grown adults.

Sirius: Physically, maybe. But I remember what we were like at their age. Mentally, they belong in daycare.

James: You’re just bitter because those college boys outdrank you the other night.

Sirius: THEY FUCKING CHEATED!

Peter: They didn’t though

James: Whatever you say, Pads.

Marlene: Also, I just saw a very beautiful woman. Will keep you updated if I see her again.

Sirius: WHY ARE YOU ONLY SAYING THIS NOW?!?!

---

Groupchat: Picasso Is a Bitch name changed to Hamlet, that’s fucking gay

Remus: Any sign of the lesbian?

Dorcas: No.

Alice: What? What Lesbian?

Lily: Oh, while you were sick, Dorcas saw a very pretty girl. Remus thinks she’s a lesbian.

Alice: Ooh, that’s fun!

Remus: I don’t THINK Lily, I know.

Dorcas: You haven’t even seen her

Remus: Irrelevant.

Lily: Do you guys know if Potter is back?

Alice: I saw him this morning. He was getting coffee.

Remus: I love that man so much. He’s so beautiful I could literally cry. With that hot caramel skin and that wild hair and how he always smells like some weird spice. I want him to be the father of my children.

Lily: Don’t encourage him.

Remus: He’s not even here.

Lily: He can sense your enthusiasm. So shhhhh

Alice: Do we still not like him?

Lily: No.

Dorcas: You know it was an accident, Lils.

Lily: You don’t know that. And I don’t know that. And who in their RIGHT MIND asks someone out after they’ve pushed them into a fountain? Like, the audacity?!

Remus: At least he’s authentic

Lily: Yeah, an authentic bitch.

Alice: Lol.

Alice: I’m honestly really interested in this Lesbian situation, though. Can we get back to that?

Remus: She’s in the engineering department. So if your cute little math loving butt just wanted to wander over there…

Alice: I’m on my way.

Dorcas: Why are we friends? You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.

Dorcas: ALICE

Lily: They’re doing it out of love.

Dorcas: Well their idea of love is something I am not interested in.

Alice: Blonde?

Dorcas: Fuck.

Remus: Is she blonde, Dorcs?

Remus: IS SHE?!

Dorcas: Yeah.

Alice: Marlene McKinnon. Blonde, blue eyed, I’d say 5”8, 5”9. Masters in Engineering. Very nice.

Remus: Alice, I fucking love you

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead changed to Update, I’m still gay

Sirius: Why the name change?

Marlene: Needed to get your attention

James: But like… with that?

Marlene: It fucking worked, didn’t it?

Peter: What happened?

Marlene: I saw that beautiful woman again. And I was right. She was beautiful.

Sirius: Sounds riveting.

Marlene: I told you I’d keep you updated, and I am. Stop being ungrateful.

Sirius: Yes commander

James: Who was it?

Marlene: Don’t know. Short, black, curly hair?

James: Where did you see her?

Marlene: She was getting a plate of spaghetti in the Canteen.

James: Hm………..

Sirius: James doesn’t know anyone because he’s too busy mooning over Evans.

James: I am so much stronger than you. Do not come for me right now

Peter: Sirius, you have an appointment here, come down.

Sirius: Fuck.

James: Peter, you know you can just text him personally, right?

Peter: I can’t shame him publicly if I only text him.

Marlene: Facts.

James: Did you talk to her?

Marlene: Nah, she was with people. I wanted to though. She seems lovely.

James: Lovely? Who are you and what have you done with Marlene McKinnon.

Marlene: She’s dead now. I’ve inhabited her body.

Sirius: Thank god, she was a bitch.

Peter: SIRIUS

James: I’ll keep an eye out for her. Let me know if you want me to scout it out.

Marlene: Okay, James Bond

---

Groupchat: Hamlet, that’s fucking gay changed to Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it

Dorcas: Remus, stop changing the group chat name. I know where you live.

Remus: We live with each other.

Dorcas: Exactly.

Lily: Are there lesbian updates????

Remus: I met her. She was wandering around, looking for a pop machine.

Alice: Yay! I love Lesbian updates

Remus: Good news: she’s funny. Like, super funny.

Lily: Saying good news like that often means there is bad news to follow

Remus: She’s uh… friends with Potter.

Dorcas: Uh-oh.

Alice: Oh no.

Lily: I’m really sorry that you have to eternally break up with this woman, Dorky. Because NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. ANYONE who is friends with James Potter is not worth knowing.

Alice: That’s pretty judgemental, lils.

Lily: .... And?

Remus: Luckily, you don’t have to date her.

Dorcas: No one is dating ANYONE. Jesus, you guys. Chill out about this whole thing

Remus: I don’t think that’s physically possible.

Dorcas: Can we talk about anything else?

Alice: Frank is taking me out for sushi tonight.

Remus: I would marry Frank in five seconds, if he’d let me

Alice: I’ll let him know.

Remus: Thank you, I appreciate it.

---

Groupchat: Update, I’m still gay changed to Emotionally Unavailable Idiots

Sirius: I have met the love of my life.

Marlene: Stop being dramatic

Sirius: Excuse me? EXCUSE ME? He quoted the Princess Bride with me. Word for Word? Marlene, I must marry this man. WHO IS HE?

Peter: Why do I keep missing all of the fun stuff?

James: The fun stuff is watching Sirius gay panic over a stranger?

Peter: Yeah. Obvs.

Marlene: He’s the lit professor.

James: Lupin?

Marlene: I think so, yeah.

Sirius: An english nerd. Perfect. He can read me poetry while I give people tattoos. We’ll make millions.

Marlene: I think… he wants to be my friend. He’s come around a few times. He even brought me coffee once, with a croissant. I didn’t know people were so nice to strangers. Am I in a hallmark film?

Peter: It’s cause you're such a catch, Mars.

Marlene: I will shove that “catch” up your ass, Pettigrew, if you don’t stop being stupid.

James: Impossible. Stupidity is Peter’s middle name.

Sirius: Yeah Peter Marcus Stupidity Pettigrew.

Peter: My middle name isn’t Marcus.

Sirius: Wait really?

Peter: No?

Sirius: Why the fuck did I think it was Marcus?

James: I think Lupin is bi, Sirius. So…

Sirius: James, you are the other love of my life. I will kiss you when you get home. You provide me with the most valuable information and attention. I can never truly repay you.

James: Finally. Getting the recognition I deserve. Can’t wait.

Sirius: Marlene, please. Be his friend, I am begging you. I will give you our first born child.

Marlene: Pass.

---

Groupchat: Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it changed to I won’t hesitate bitch

Alice: Marlene is so nice

Lily: You’re all traitors. She’s friends with the enEMY

Dorcas: I thought Remus was supposed to be the dramatic one

Remus: I’ll take that as a compliment

Dorcas: Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Alice: Seriously though. She’s so nice. A lot of my students have her and they’ve been gushing. Apparently she’s one of the best professors some of them have ever had.

Remus: Damn. High praise.

Lily: Still skeptical

Alice: She asked about you, Dori.

Dorcas: wait, what?

Remus: ALICE SAY MORE RIGHT NOW?!?!

Alice: She said she had noticed that you and I are close and she wanted to know about you. What your name is, what you teach, how long you’ve been working here, if you were single.

Dorcas: She did not ask that.

Remus: Dorcas, shut up forever. Alice is talking. Alice, my love, please continue.

Alice: I may have invited her to eat lunch with us.

Dorcas: Uh…

Lily: You did what?

Alice: She’s new, Lily. I’m trying to help her make friends.

Lily: You did it, didn’t you.

Alice: ummm

Lily: YOU TOLD HER SHE COULD BRING JAMES POTTER, DIDN’T YOU

Alice: He’s her friend. I couldn’t exclude him.

Lily: I never thought this would happen to me. To be betrayed so thoroughly by my own friends. I don’t even have the words.

Alice: Who knows, it might be fun?

Remus: I’m so excited I could burst

Dorcas: Is it legal to drink on campus in the middle of the day?

Remus: Unfortunately not. Trust me, I’ve tried.

---

Marlene McKinnon to Dorcas Meadowes

Marlene: It was nice of all of you to invite me to lunch. I know it was probably awkward for all of you to have to spend time with a stranger. But I really appreciated it.

Dorcas: No problem. You’re always welcome.

Marlene: Maybe… we could go get something to eat off campus sometime?

Dorcas: Yeah, of course. We go to the bar on Wright all the time.

Marlene: Oh, I meant like… just you and me. Actually.

Dorcas: Oh.

Marlene: Yeah. Did I guess wrong?

Dorcas: Guess wrong?

Marlene: About you being into women?

Dorcas: Ohhhh…

Marlene: ??

Dorcas: What did you have in mind? For our date?

Marlene: Wait, is that a yes?

Dorcas: I expect like, first class treatment, because I’ve seen you in action now. Anyone who can wrangle James Potter like that is someone who deserves knowing. So yeah. It’s a yes.

Marlene: Yay! Okay, you won’t regret it!

Marlene: Also, my friend is in love with Lupin.

Dorcas: wait, James?

Marlene: Lol. Nah, James is still hung up on Lily. She’s wonderful, by the way. Tell her I’m grateful she was so kind. I know about what James did last year, so I can understand her bitterness. Fucking funny, though, to see it in person.

Marlene: It’s my other friend, Sirius. He owns the tattoo parlor, Cannis Major, on Levi.

Dorcas: Hmm. Well, let me know what I can do. I’m sure we can get them in the same room at some point.

Marlene: Are you offering to meddle in people’s lives?

Dorcas: Is that okay?

Marlene: Dorcas Meadowes, I’m pretty sure I’m already halfway in love with you.

Dorcas: Thank god.

--------------------

This has been in my ask box for literal months. I’m sorry @tonftyhw !! I had finals and stress and I don’t know how to write. I hope this makes you smile though.

Clarifier for who teaches what if anyone is interested:

Lily-History

Remus-Literature

Dorcas-Art (painting)

Alice-Math

James-Chemistry

Marlene-Engineering/Physics

Sirius owns a tattoo shop because I will die for that AU every time. And Peter works with him, kind of like the brains of the business.

Should I write more of this? It was so fun lol

#my writing #sirius black #wolfstar #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #dorcas x marlene #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #alice longbottom #text conversations

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cobaltusami · 3 years ago

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 7

Hey hi hello! This part was very delayed thanks to my laptop being a tool. I'm writing on a tablet computer hooked up to my tv now lol.

This part is pretty shippy too, Big shocker right? But It's Ishimondo and I couldn't resist--

Characters in this part: Lee!Taka, Ler!Mondo, Makoto, Leon, Hina, Akane, Sakura, Mahiru, Chiaki, Hiro, Nekomaru, Nagito, Hajime, Kazuichi

Word count: 1,803

Part 1: [Click or tap here!] Part 2: [Click or tap here!] Part 3: [Click or tap here!] Part 4: [Click or tap here!] Part 5: [Click or tap here!] Part 6: [Click or tap here!] Part 7: You are here.

Shortly after arriving back from waking up the two dorky gays, they showed up In the dining hall. Fuyuhiko sat down next to Peko after a small greeting and Hajime sat between Nagito and Mahiru, most likely whispering a small threat to the Lucky student for embarrassing them this morning.

“Where the heck were you? You worried us!” Mahiru complained, smacking Hajime upside the head.

Hajime yelped, rubbing the back of his head. “S-Sorry, I lost track of time…”

A few students at the table barely managed to stifle their laughter, others-- Leon, Ibuki, and Hiyoko, didn’t even try to.

“Making girls worry about you.… not cool Hajime.” Nagito chided, crossing his arms as he gave the boy next to him a look akin to a disappointed mother.

Hajime whipped around to face Nagito, His expression unreadable. “Nagito…”

Chiaki reached around Nagito, digging her fingers into Hajime’s side warningly. “Don’t threaten him.”

Nagito giggled as he watched Hajime’s face turn bright red, a small yelp slipping past his lips as he inched away from them, now nearly on the edge of his seat to avoid her fingers.

“Chiaki, don’t torture Hajime this early In the morning.” Nekomaru warned lightly, Chiaki pouted as she pulled her hand back, seemingly complying.

Hiro chuckled at this. “Looks like you’re the parent of the friend group…”

“Parent? Nah, he’s more like the big brother of the group.” Kazuichi responded. “Mahiru Is the parent of the group.”

“I am not!” Mahiru frowned. “I don’t have the stamina to mother all of you hoodlums.”

“Did she just use the word hoodlum unironically?” Makoto whispered to Kazuichi.

“I heard that Naegi! Just because you’re not In my class doesn’t mean I can’t reprimand you too!”

Makoto squeaked and shrunk back in his seat as she began to lecture both him and Kazuichi.

Celeste giggled as she sipped her tea. “I like her.”

“She’s certainly… Passionate.” Kyoko agreed, taking a sip of her own tea as she watched with amusement.

After breakfast was over, class 77 sent away the other class so they could plan the party. Nekomaru went with them to make sure Mondo left Sakura and Hina alone, he could’ve sworn that Mondo was just Akane but In guy form.

Speaking of Akane… where did she run off to?

As Nekomaru glanced around looking for the spitfire, he lost sight of Sakura and Hina. So at that point he decided to just stick around Mondo and keep an eye on him that way.

Currently the biker was walking along the beach with Taka, the pair looking for seashells or something corny like that.

Hiro approached the team manager casually. “So, You’re the brother of the group huh?”

“I guess so.” He responded with a chuckle.

“I’m the brother of my group too.” Hiro smiled. “They’re all a bunch of dorks aren’t they?”

“That would be an understatement.” Nekomaru retorted. “But they’re my dorks.”

“Even though sometimes they drive you nuts with how they behave.”

“Between Akane, Gundham, Kazuichi, Nagito and Fuyuhiko, I don’t know which one Is more misbehaved.”

Hiro chuckled. “Yeah, Mondo, Leon, and Hina are pretty chaotic too. Mondo has been on a war path since having that endurance challenge with Taka, He wrecks everyone with tickles man, It’s horrible.”

“That’s nothing! Fuyuhiko threatened to stab Nagito last week for teasing him and helping Hajime tickle him.” Nekomaru retorted.

“Hahaha! Last time we tried to take down Mondo he concussed Makoto.”

The two began sharing stories about their nerds, thus taking Neko’s attention off of Mondo. He and Taka snuck off to the park and sat down on the bench together.

They sat In silence for a bit, Just enjoying each other’s company. But eventually Taka let out a small happy sigh. “I really like this Island. What do you think about It, Kyoudai?”

“Eh?” Mondo turned his attention to his totally platonic not at all homosexual In the slightest best friend. “It beats the school so far.” He shrugged slightly, resting his arms across the back of the bench.

Taka took this as a cue to scoot a little closer, Mondo’s fingers grazed his shoulder opposite to him motioning for him to get even closer. He kept inching closer, each time Mondo would repeat the motion.

Even when their bodies were pressed against each other. “Mondo, If I get any closer to you I will be in your lap.” Taka finally said.

“I’d be okay with that.” He replied cheekily, resting his hand on his shoulder to hold him.

Totally platonic.

No homo, as they say.

Taka rolled his eyes as he rested his head against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle. Mondo fully moved his arm to wrap around Taka’s shoulders now. “I bet you would.” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Taka smiled innocently up at the biker.

Mondo narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he slowly let the subject drop and relaxed again. “I guess I like that the Island Is big, doesn’t feel as fuckin’ cramped as the school.” He said, returning to the previous topic.

“I agree! And It’s so nice to feel the sun again.”

“Yea, and the fresh air Is nice too.” He conceded. “It’d be even better If I had my bike though, then I could finally take ya for that ride I promised.”

Taka tensed up, he never particularly cared for the idea of riding with Mondo. “Y-Yeah, such a shame.” He replied quietly.

It’s not that he didn’t trust him or anything, It’s just the thought of being on a motorcycle scared him a bit.

“S-So uh… What do you think of the classmates?” Taka asked, trying to change the subject before Mondo noticed his nervousness about motorized bikes.

Smooth.

“They seem alright, What do you think of ‘em? I trust your judgement more than mine.” Mondo asked, glancing down at the boy.

Taka pulled back slightly, looking up at Mondo with big eyes. “R-Really??”

“I mean, Yea. You’re a better judge of character than I am..”

He wasn’t expecting the next reaction.

Taka pulled back, prodding at his stomach incessantly. “Kyoudai! You should trust yourself and your opinion more!” he scolded.

Mondo yelped, his arms shooting down to block off his midsection from the Moral Compass. “EY! Will you cut that out??” He grabbed hold of Taka’s wrists and held his hands away from him.

He yanked on his wrists, pulling the smaller of the two Into his lap with a yelp. “Y’know, If you wanted me to tickle ya, Ya coulda just asked.” He smirked, coiling his arms around his prey.

“W-Wait! No! Mohohohondo!” Taka burst Into giggles as his fingers ghosted over his ribs.

“Yea, Kyoudai?” He hummed, digging into his ribs more firmly. “What’s up?”

“Hehehehahahaha! Dohohohon’t!” He whined through his giggles, blushing.

Mondo leaned forward, dusting small kisses across his neck. (what was exposed of it anyways) whilst unbuttoning his jacket, “Y’know, technically you don’t gotta wear the uniform right? We’re not in school right now.” he commented as he tugged the jacket off and dumped it unceremoniously onto the bench next to them,

Taka was too busy giggling to protest, as embarrassing as he found being tickled, he actually did enjoy it. Especially If it was Mondo doing the tickling.

He slipped his fingers under Taka’s white tee and ran them teasingly across his belly. “There, Don’t ya feel better now that you aren’t burning alive under that coat?”

Taka shook his head as he collapsed back against his chest, his giggling ramping up.

“No? Well fuck bro, I’m not sure what else I can do to help ya.” Mondo pretended to think about it. “Are your sides hurting? You want me to massage ‘em for ya?”

“N-Nohohohohoho! My sihihihides are fine!” Taka yelped, his arms wrapping around his midsection defensively.

“You suuuure? If they’re real achy, a nice massage will do wonders~” He purred, resuming his barrage of small tickly kisses to his neck.

Taka rested his head back against Mondo’s shoulder as he laughed. “Ihihihihihim suhuhuhure! Ahahahaha!”

Mondo pinched and prodded at his lean stomach and hip bones, smiling at the squeals and musical laughter it brought about. “A’ight, guess I’ll have to find another way to make ya happy.” He responded nonchalantly, withdrawing his hands momentarily only to shove them under his arms and dig into the sensitive skin.

“AAH! Mohohohohondohohoho!” He shrieked, his body doubling over as It attempted to get away from the tickles.

“Yea bro?” He snickered.

“Ihihihihihit tihihihihickles!” Taka whined through his laughter, trying to escape from Mondo’s lap to no avail.

“Uh yea bro, It’s fuckin’ supposed to.” He grinned cheekily, as soon as Taka tried to push his way to freedom, he pounced. His fingers descend cruelly on his sensitive sides, drawing a scream from the strict student.

“KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAHAIT DOHOHOHOHN’T!”

“Don’t wait? I gotcha bro.” He chuckled, then leaned closer to whisper In Taka’s ear. “You wanna experience all the nice tickles, Right?”

Taka’s face grew even more red, If that was humanly possible. That bitch, I mean he wasn’t wrong but how dare he call Taka out like that?

“Hah, Gaaaaaay!”

Mondo paused his attack on poor Taka and looked up, spotting Leon across the way near an island bridge. “Leon, Fuck off. Unless you wanna be next.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” Leon grinned. “I think you have other targets ahead of me.”

“Oh yea? Like who?”

As if waiting for that exact moment, Taka bolted out of his hold with Hina’s help. The moment he was free, A bucket of water was dumped onto Mondo, ruining his hair.

He shrieked in surprise as he jumped up, he whipped around to find the culprits.

Akane was cackling whilst she and Sakura stood there holding the tub. “I warned you I was gonna get you.” The white haired girl smiled.

“Oh, You’re so fucking dead!” He roared, jumping over the back of the bench to get the martial artist, but he ended up slipping and falling in the grass due to being soaking wet..

“Kyoudai!” Taka yelped, getting down next to him to check him for injuries.

Hina giggled evilly as the girls hurried off. Leon also disappeared, apparently he chose the side of chaos today.

Mondo sighed as he sat up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yea, I’m fine.” He reassured him. “Sakura’s not gonna be when I get a hold of her though.”

Taka sighed in relief. Well at least he knew Mondo was actually okay and not just saying that. “Come on, Let’s get back to the hotel so you can change. Then we can get revenge.”

Mondo grinned at Taka, planting a kiss against his lips. “I fuckin’ love ya.”

Yes… No homo indeed.

24 notes · View notes

trashyswitch · 4 years ago

Text

Illogical Hobbies (Or so he Thought)

Logan is struggling with being seen as unreliable or biased in his logic. Why? Because the man likes tickling and he's super embarrassed about it. Looking for help from anyone, Logan decides to talk to Remus about his dilemma. Remus quickly proves to be open-minded, and even excited about Logan's interest!

This fanfic has some dirty jokes and ultimate gay moments. Whether Intrulogical is platonic or intimate in this fanfic...I have no idea. It could be read as both. Just keep an open mind, knowing that this is Remus and Remus us well...dirty.

Also: this fanfic was suggested by 🦂 person. Hi 🦂 person! Sorry it took weeks.

Other than that: I hope you enjoy!

For @kanene-yaaay

Logan had been struggling with his thoughts. For one of the first times in his life, Logan’s brain was overwhelming him with logical theories that haven’t been proven as of yet. The logical side now believed he might be a freak and as a result, is now unreliable for Thomas. This hypothesis was created due to his interest in one thing: tickling. He had seen the documentary they made about it. He had seen how uncomfortable people become due to others and their ‘feelings for tickling’. There are people who enjoy it as a…

Logan shivers. Despite his inability to hold onto biases up until this point...Logan had developed a strange reaction to the unspoken word. He just doesn’t like thinking about the word, let alone saying it. Society has managed to place so much of a bad condentation onto the word, that...saying it feels super wrong. Those types of topics are usually kept secret and are only discussed with people who you feel close to. Making sure the other person doesn’t mind talking about it might also be a good thing to check. You don’t want to end up in one of those one-sided conversations where you do all the talking while your friend only listens, nods and refuses to add input. That would be the last place Logan would want to get stuck in.

Logan sat down on his desk and clicked the pen to start writing. He drew out the people within the mind palace, and wrote down the pros and cons of talking about it with that person. Logan did this so that he could determine who would be the best person to go to, that wouldn’t be biased or rude about his...feelings. Yeah, feelings. He needed someone who wouldn’t look down upon him for being this way, and who would remind him that he is still the logical side who doesn’t let biases or conflicts get in the way of the truth.

Patton seemed like a good idea and he’d consider coming to him another time. But poor Patton’s already got so much on his plate. Patton’s been trying to help out Roman, who was still struggling with the truth that was told to him during the last conversation they had. Patton had gotten better acquainted with Janus by then, and was now struggling to find a stalemate between the light and the dark sides.

On top of that, Roman was also out of the question for more reasons than one. Again, Roman was going through a few different things involving his insecurities. Truth be told; Roman is now roughly 30 like Thomas is, so he should’ve been experiencing this phase long ago. But, late is better than never. Even if Roman weren’t stressed about his self-image, Logan would still turn down the prince because he found Roman too biased and rude over simple matters. It would be better to let Roman question things rather than be taunted by him for the rest of his days.

Virgil is more of a quiet citizen who probably would’ve handled it just fine. The emotional man has his own interests and hobbies that he often keeps from people as well. Example: his love for spiders. Patton would probably have a heart attack if Virgil admitted such a secret. But the one big con Logan had with Virgil was the chance he’ll let out a...strange reaction to the news. Whether it was gonna be a good or a bad reaction, was not something Logan wanted to test out.

Janus seemed like an interesting option as well. Yet despite his better understanding of the snake-like being, he began to wonder if Janus would be too manipulative or perhaps...too blunt. In this moment in particular, Logan felt he needed reassurance more than vague, or blunt answers. And knowing Janus...both possibilities stood out equally. So...Janus was off too.

Now Remus particularly stuck out to him. Remus would be blunt, but in a strangely charming way that would lessen the truthful blow. Remus would also be the most unbiased next to Patton because he’s learned about literally everything involving the subject. Remus might even have the recommended tools readily available in his room! Though Remus may immediately resort to assumptions about the interest...that’s about the only con Remus had under the list. Furthermore, Logan liked Remus. Maybe if there wasn’t a risk of getting physically injured, Logan would’ve had no cons under his name.

Logan threw away the chart and walked himself up to Remus’s room. Feeling nervous yet fascinated, Logan knocked on the door. He kept his knocks rather quiet, as to not disturb the other dark sides.

Remus opened the door and immediately pulled Logan into his room. Remus closed the door and planted a big, slightly bushy kiss onto Logan’s cheek. “Welcome Logan, to my sexy chamber of secrets~!” Remus greeted. “I am your tour guide: Sexy Sanders~. Are you ready for the greatest tour of your whole life?” Remus declared proudly.

Logan bit his lip and looked away shyly. “R-Remus…” Dammit! Now he was turning into a deer frozen in the headlights! “I’m flattered by your introduction, but-”

“OOOoooh! ReeRee, you sly dog! You just flustered the nerd beyond belief!” Remus reacted. “Perhaps the ninja star and the loss of your buck teeth has left poor Logey in a confused state of ecstacy!” Remus teased, letting out a sexy cat growl.

Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “Excuse me…” Logan started to turn around while he tried to ramble out an excuse. “I suppose now may not be the time to talk, so I’m gonna leave you to your duties and-”

Remus slammed something against the wall beside the door. Logan jumped at the bang sound it made, and turned to look at the blurry thing that had made the sound beside him.

It was a foot? A high heeled foot, to be exact. And...Oh geez Remus was wearing kinky boots. “Come here darling…” Remus put his foot down and led Logan to the bed. “Let me get you something somewhat edible to eat and drink.” Remus offered. “You seem in great dire need of it, after all~”

Remus sat Logan down on his bedside and opened a bottom drawer that was split into 2 spots and filled with snacks. On the left side was ‘Remus’ based snacky foods and on the right, was normal snacky foods that he guessed could be for Roman or Janus. “Pick your poison.” Remus told him.

Logan bit his lip and smiled slightly. “Is any of it actually poisoned? Or is that just you using a phrase?” Logan asked.

Remus giggled. “It’s just a saying, li’l sweetberry.” Remus replied.

Logan awkwardly reached down and grabbed a pack of swedish berries. “Thank you, Remus.”

“No problem. Now: What does the poor distressed brainiac need from your pal?” Remus asked.

Logan bit his lip and swallowed. “Well…I’ll start with this:” Logan took a breath and began. “I took some time finding out who exactly to talk to about my personal issue. My other choice would’ve been Patton, but...He’s busy with your brother.” Logan admitted.

“Oh Patton...The poor boy is busy trying to keep the peace while Roman loses his sanity because his biased beliefs and nasty habits are finally being seen as rude!” Remus added.

Logan widened his eyes and looked at Remus. “Yes! That’s exactly it!” Logan reacted.

Remus scoffed and looked at his nails. “He’s always been like that. I’m not even gonna start with all the insults he’s thrown at me.” Remus added. “Though I don’t mind some angst in my life...Roman has genuinely hurt me before.” Remus admitted.

Logan looked down a little. “I’m...I’m sorry to hear that.” Logan told him.

Remus quickly waved it off and readjusted his position. “It’s fine! Now: What is this seeecretive thing you worked sooo hard to talk about?” Remus asked.

Logan calmed down slightly and continued. “I have felt rather embarrassed and...unreliable to Thomas because of some interests I’ve had.” Logan admitted.

Remus gasped and leaned his chin on his hand. “Do tell! I do love a good ‘life-altering’ hobby.” Remus told him with a wink.

Logan rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but grow a little soft towards Remus. “Ohokay. Well...Because of my outward presentation, I am unable to present many mannerisms without fearing I’ll be judged by some of the sides.” Logan admitted. “And...there’s one specific activity that I have ached for…for a while now...” Logan admitted.

Remus giggled. “Does someone have a thing for bonds?” Remus teased.

Logan blinked and looked at him with a confused face. “I- no. Not bondage.” Logan replied.

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Roleplay?” Remus asked, now guessing.

Logan visibly cringed. “No…”

“Hmmm…” Remus bounced his eyebrows and licked his lips. “Sexting?” Remus asked.

Logan looked quite bothered. “It...It’s not a fetish, Remus!” Logan finally told him, feeling dirty for saying the word out loud.

Remus’s smile dropped. “Oh…” Remus thought for a moment. “Do you have a thing for furries?” Remus asked.

Logan shook his head. “No.”

“Is this more wholesome than I think?” Remus asked.

Logan looked at Remus with an embarrassed smile. “Y-yeah.”

“Hmm...Cuddles? Are you lacking a few good cuddles?” Remus asked.

Logan widened his eyes as his cheeks started to glow a dark red. “I...Kinda…” Logan replied.

Remus picked up Logan immediately and gently threw him onto the bed. “Tally HOO!” Remus shouted as Logan landed on the bed. Remus jumped onto the bed beside Logan, and wrapped his arms around him. “Is this what you wanted?” Remus asked.

Logan had frozen in place, unsure of how to react. This was kind of what he wanted, but...there was something missing…

Logan wrapped his arms around Remus as well and soon rested his head against his chest. “Y-Yeah...This is what I wanted…” Logan somewhat admitted.

Remus tilted his head and looked at him. “Stop the music:” Remus said to the quiet room. Remus pointed at Logan. “You’re hesitating...I can hear it.” Remus told him.

Logan widened his eyes. “Am I?” He asked.

Remus nodded. “I can tell you want something else.” Remus told him.

Logan looked down with a wobbly smile and blushed. “Yyyyy...Yeah you got me.”

“So: Any hints?” Remus asked.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, and carefully gave Remus a really light squeeze on the side. Remus jumped slightly, but gasped as he immediately caught on.

While Logan opened his eyes with worry in his eyes, Remus smirked and gave the back of Logan’s neck a little tickle. “I think I understand what you want~”

Logan threw his head back and squeaked, not expecting it. He instinctually reached his arm back to grab the hand.

But Remus giggled and wiggled his fingers. “You shouldn’t have done thaaat~” Remus touched down on Logan’s now-exposed armpit and skittered wildly while making teasy ticky-ticky sounds. Logan quickly threw his arm down and let out his first snort. “Awwww! I think this IS what the distressed brainiac yearned for! Am I right? Am I right??!” Remus teased as he squeezed his hip with his other free hand.

Logan’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he let out a big, overwhelmed yelp. “REMUHUHUS-” Logan started wiggling and squirming while cackling somewhat quietly with his face all squished.

Remus had a stupidly happy grin on his face as he kept going. “The smartest being in Thomas’s entire mind palace is ticklish! And he LIKES it!” Remus reacted. “This is like landing in heaven! For Logan AND myself!” Remus reacted.

Logan covered his face with his hands and whined. “Yohohohou lihihike ihihit toohohohoho?” Logan asked.

As a reply, Remus leaned in and blew a raspberry on his neck. Logan squealed like he had never squealed before, and hid his flustered face in Remus’s chest. “There’s my answer!” Remus declared.

Logan tried to mutter something to Remus, but his face was intentionally being shoved into Remus’s chest. Remus bursted out laughing at how muffled and wonky Logan’s ‘words’ sounded in his chest. “You sound like you’re stuck in a door or something! Do I need to tickle you out of your crampy situation?!” Remus asked him jokingly.

Logan giggled more into the Duke’s chest. Remus’s teasing was starting to fluster him more, and the anticipation was only adding to it. Remus was surprisingly good at this! Logan was thrown out of his moment of thought from two ticklish squeezes against his hips. “BAHAHAHA- REHEHEHE WAHAHAHAHAIT!” Logan yelled at him.

“Wait? But why? You’re already enjoying it! Why would I wait for something to happen, when everything I want is happening right now?” Remus asked rhetorically.

“IHIHIT’SSSS-SSSOHOHOHOHO TIHIHICKLIHIHIHIHISH!” Logan yelled back at him.

“I know! But isn’t that the best part? You’re getting the tickle tickle tickles you’ve been craving for…” Remus paused and thought for a moment. “Wait...How long have you been wanting these tickles for again?”

Logan snorted as his hair grew more and more messy. “UHUHUHUHUHUHH...MOHOHONTHSSSS?” Logan guessed.

“MONTHS?! Seriously?! You’ve been tickle-deprived for MONTHS?!” Remus shouted. “How in Satan’s butthole did you manage to survive months without being tickled?!” Remus reacted.

“PERHRHRSIHIHISTENENENCE!” Logan yelled back.

“Okay, maybe. But persisting without tickles and cuddles for MONTHS?! That’s like living an entire week without my favorite deodorant in the house! I’d die of starvation! And my tongue would be drier than Gluten Free bread!” Remus reacted further.

Logan laughed more at Remus’s statement. Of course Remus would starve himself if he had to live without deodorant! It only makes sense if you properly know the guy. Logan also visibly cringed at the thought of deodorant ‘moisturizing’ the tongue. The image in his head was making his tongue feel all weird and chalky.

...And surprisingly, Remus had a point. Gluten Free bread is ridiculously dry…

Remus soon gave Logan a bit of a break and spun his mustache while he watched the nerd. Logan took the moment to breathe again, but looked visibly disappointed that Remus had stopped.

Remus frowned softly with a wobbly smile at Logan’s reaction. Then, Remus made the one sound Logan NEVER imagined hearing from him: he cooed!

“Awwwww!” Remus covered his mouth and nose with his hands. “God, it’s like trying to ignore a homeless puppy! Now I know how Patton feels 60% of the time!” Remus reacted.

Logan chuckled at the last statement. Patton really does act like that a majority of the time.

Remus wrapped his arms around Logan and hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you told me!” He admitted. “You have no clue how happy you made me feel the moment you came to my door!”

Logan relaxed a little more and hugged him back nicely. “...Really? You’re happy I told you?”

Remus nodded. “Well of course! No one besides Janus and Roman have ever told me their deepest secrets before!” Remus admitted. “And...Your secret is super wholesome.”

Logan’s smile dropped slightly as another thought went through his head. “Hey Remus…”

Remus tilted his head. “Yes Logan?”

Logan calmly stared into Remus’s eyes. “Do you still think I’m logical and reliable? Even with my...tickling interest?” Logan asked.

Remus smiled softly and placed his hands on Logan’s shoulders. “You are the most logical and sane side we have in the mind palace. No amount of feelings is ever gonna change your big IQ.” Remus reminded him.

Logan smiled and went back into the hug. Feeling safe and secure in his arms, Logan closed his eyes and rested his chin on Remus’s shoulder.

“I guarantee if you were to tell Patton or even Roman, you would be given what you want.” Remus told him. “Roman is a bit more risky. He might look at you like you have 3 heads at first. But Roman will wind up going ballistic about how cute you are.” Remus told him. “He’s done the same thing for me.” Remus told him.

Logan looked at him. “Really?” Logan smirked a little. “What’s your cute hobby?” he asked.

Remus smiled and pointed to his closet. “Making stuffed animal abominations.” Remus replied proudly.

Logan tilted his head. “I...don’t think I follow.”

Remus giggled and blew a raspberry onto Logan’s neck again. “It doesn’t take much to follow what I mean.” Remus teased.

Logan squealed and cowered into Remus’s chest again while Remus began to explain: “I make stuffed abominations out of many different stuffed animals! I switch out the limbs, I add stuffed wings, tails or tentacles to the stuffies, and they become my pile of monstrosities!” Remus explained.

“Sohoho you’re sid from Toy Story?” Logan asked.

Remus smirked and tickled his sides as a response. “Exactly! See? You get it.”

Logan snorted and tried to scoot himself back. But Remus managed to grab his arm, hold it up, and attacked his exposed armpit. “Nice try, Ms. Berry blue!”

Logan shook his head wildly and let out every bit of laughter he had. He was a wiggling mess of laughs, giggles and snorts all in one nerd. It was so cute to see!

“C-COHOHOME OHOHOHON, REHEHEHEHE!” Logan yelled to him.

“Is that a challenge?” Remus asked him. “Are you telling me I’m not tickling you enough?! The nerve!” the Duke teased.

Logan squealed and pulled his knees to his chest. “NOHOHOHO, IHIHI DIHIHIHIDN’T!”

“But it sounds like you did! What on earth could you possibly mean when you say ‘come on, Ree’?” Remus asked.

“IHIHI MEHEHEHEANT YOHOHOHOU’RE TEHEHEHEASIHIHIHING MEHEHE AHA LOHOHOHOT!” Logan admitted.

Remus giggled. “I know.”

Remus stopped tickling him for a moment and placed the nerd’s hand down. Next, Remus grabbed onto Logan’s tie and started loosening it. “Here: I don’t want your trusty tie to choke you while I tickle you.” Remus told him.

If Logan wasn’t blushing before, he was CERTAINLY blushing now! Remus actually unfolded Logan’s collar and removed the tie with genuine care presented in his actions. Logan had frozen in place, which ended up helping Remus remove the tie with little struggle.

Then, Remus put the tie around Logan’s right wrist and tightened it to a comfortable amount. “Check it out!” Remus lifted the tie up and started tickling Logan’s armpit again. Logan snorted and immediately burst into giggles while he tried to cover his armpit. But the tie was working like a bonding rope and preventing his arm from covering the spot properly! But Logan also noticed Remus had left the tie a bit looser. So with some tugging and twisting, the wrist could easily pop right out.

Much to Remus’s surprise though, Logan tried not to pull too hard on his wrist. He was actually letting his hand be bonded for a bit.

Remus happily smiled as he covered Logan’s body with all the tickles and laughter. This was so fun! And to think that just 25 minutes ago, Logan was a tense and illogical mess. He’d never seen Logan behave like that before. He’d seen the nerd annoyed, hurt, excited and in shock, but he’s never seen Logan anxious. It was quite unusual for the logical side. But now Logan was a giggling, blushing mess of emotions. It was brand new for Remus, and most likely quite brand new for Logan as well. But Logan seemed to be enjoying it.

Finally after a while of tickling, Logan decided he had reached his limit. He pulled his hand out of the tie, and curled up into a sideways ball. “Ohohokahahahay, thahahahat’s ehehenoho-” Remus had already stopped the moment Logan said ‘Okay’. He must’ve already known Logan would want him to stop. So, he did.

Logan looked at Remus with a glow of happiness in his eyes. “Thank you Remus. That helped a lot.” Logan told him.

Remus smiled back and gently punched his shoulder. “Eeh, it’s nothing. I’ll happily do it again anytime you need me to.” Remus told him.

Logan blushed a little at that and looked away awkwardly. “I’ll...I’ll keep that in mind.”

Remus got off the bed, walked over to the dresser and opened the middle drawer. Hidden within some magazines and spare sewing fabric, Remus grabbed a water bottle and wrote an L on the lid. He closed the drawer and handed it over to Logan. “Here you go. I don’t want you die-drating on my watch.” Remus told him.

Logan laughed a little at that and drank some of the water from the water bottle.

“Now: Either you can get the hell out before anyone notices the nerd’s hanging out with the crook, or you can stay and get hit with all the questions later.” Remus explained.

Logan choked on his water and put the lid back on as he coughed the drop of water out of his air pipe. “Ihi-” He cleared his throat. “A crook is a dishonest person, or a thief. You may be a bit of a Grinch, but you’re most certainly not a crook.” Logan admitted.

Remus looked at him with surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Really.” Logan put his water bottle down. “You are the most honest person we have in the mind palace. Though the honesty does cross the line to brutal sometimes, it still shows the lengths you’ll go to be truthful.” Logan explained briefly. “Besides: I think I’ll risk the countless questions and stay a while longer.”

Remus smile grew into a big toothy grin as he held his own chest. “Awwww!” Then Remus shoved his hand into his own chest and ripped his heart out, blood vessels and all. “Look! You made my heart jump!” Remus reacted as he pointed to it. Sure enough, his human heart had visibly jumped a few times in front of Logan.

Logan covered the lower half of his face and couldn’t help the laugh that left his mouth. Looks like Logan will have to add the word ‘random’ to the list of Remus’s personality traits.

I'm finally back. I took nearly 3 weeks off of writing because I hit a major writers block. I am happy to say I got other things done in that time, and I used the unexpected break to my advantage. So now: I'm back and hopefully back to stay for a while.

#dirty jokes #remus is very gay #slight logan angst #comfort #ticklefic #ler!remus #lee!logan #remus is a good friend

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coeurdastronaute · 5 years ago

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Troublemaker (Before)

Previously on Troublemaker

“See! You’re having a good time!”

The music pulsated through the streets, and Lexa didn’t care that her sister was gloating because she really was having a good time despite all intentions otherwise. The sun was bright and glaring without a cloud in the sky, and downtown was brimming with all colors, alive and vibrant, celebrating. And she as swept up in it, proud and overflowing with the music and freedom of being completely herself and being completely unknown in the crowd.

It’d been a hard fought battle for her to agree to come with her sister to Pride, but she didn’t have anything else to do, and because of Anya’s need to be an overachiever, something they both ascribed to genetics, she was going to be doing an internship and leaving soon enough, thus cutting their summer together incredibly short. The guilt and her sister’s incessant need to prove a point brought them downtown for the day, and Lexa was almost okay with it.

“I knew you would like it,” Anya gloated, dancing around with her sister in the pulsating group of bodies at the concert in the park.

“Is it always like this?”

A gaggle of scantily-clad men moved through in nothing but speedos and suspenders, and Lexa let one of them grab her and twirl her around. The entire day, she’d been absolutely adored and adoring of everyone around her. An inundation of love and support was enough to make her unsure of how to go back to real life.

Her sister watched as Lexa danced, hands up, smiling wide and overjoyed. She enjoyed the fact that her sister came out to her and she could actually do something about it. Though straight, Anya spent her first two years of college taking a crash course in gay when her random roommate was a very out and very proud girl who liked to use Anya as a wngman. She was incredibly helpful in coming up with things to help Lexa feel normal and supported, and Anya was going ot be the best big sister possible. She was that type A.

“Pride is always like this,” Anya promised. “And you get to be super gay anytime you want. Isn’t that great?”

“You’re worse than mom and dad. They’re like oddly proud to have a gay kid.”

“Nah, just because you’re you.”

“Shut up,” Lexa rolled her eyes and moved, wiggling around, goofy and carefree.

For the entire day, the sisters moved through the crowds, checking out vendors, eating delicious food, listening to speakers, and got decked out in glowing necklaces and rainbows painted on their faces. It was exhausting to be so gay, but Lexa finally understood what she’d been missing in her fear of joining the GSA, and her fear of being out at school. She hadn’t thought about how wonderful it would be to not have to worry about hiding, or at least, not actively living.

“Thank you,” Lexa offered, as the pair stood on the side of the road for the parade. She hugged her sister as the sun began to set between the tall buildings. “This has been the best day of my life.”

“You’re a sap.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not,” she smiled and danced around, her sister not used to such a carefree girl in front of her. “I’m just super gay-- Oops, I’m so sorr--”

Lexa stopped moving after bumping into someone behind her, not paying attention and living her life too widely and too queerly for such a confined area. She gaped and stared at the body she bumped into, more mortified than she’d been in her entire life.

The body came attached to a pretty face. A familiar face. A face with bright blue eyes, and a mischievous grin and a messy bunch of wavy blonde hair. A face that had a tongue ring. A face that was attached to the girl who protested the Sadie Hawkins dance, the pep rally, and last year single handedly turned the swimming pool pink for women’s history month.This was the same face that Lexa couldn’t help but stare at anytime she walked by in the halls at school. This was the face that didn’t even know she existed.

Clarke Griffin stared back in equal parts amazement at the girl who did the bumping. In all of her wildest dreams, she never imagined Lexa Woods, class president, Academic Decathlon team captain, Student of the Quarter, perfect attendance-winning, overall adorable nerd, would be standing next to her at Pride. And not just standing-- dancing, covered in rainbows, and smiling in something other than a primly put together button up shirt with a schedule strapped to her chest.

“Clarke,” Lexa gulped, unable to say anything else, unable to hide her fear and confusion. “I-I-I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was just… um… ”

“It’s okay. Kind of close quarters and you were just being super queer,” she returned gracefully as she eyed the entire being of Lexa on summer break. “I didn’t think I’d run into anyone here. I thought everyone left for summer.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m always recruiting people for my zine. Intersectional politics and good music with a queer tint. Honestly, it’s whatever anyone submits. We set up a tiny booth,” Clarke explained, rambling slightly. “And I’m kind of gay.”

“Kind of?”

This was incredibly new and important news to Lexa, even if she didn’t know what to do with it.The entire school knew that Clarke ran with the same crowd, a crowd Lexa didn’t know anything about other than idle gossip. And it always looked like she was very close to Bellamy Blake. Romantically close.

“Bi.”

“You have to go?”

“No-- no… I’m bisexual.”

Lexa felt her face burn and she wanted to melt into a puddle, right there in the early June evening. Maybe disappear into the sewer and wash away into the sea for the rest of time. But she didn’t. Instead, she just stood there, in front of the biggest badass tough guy hot girl she’s ever seen in her entire life.

It was the longest they’d ever spoken, and she’d ruined it in under three minutes after learning that Clarke was gay-ish.

“That’s cool,” she finally managed, earning a small smile.

Clarke pushed some hair away from her face and scratched her neck, using the pause to look at Lexa’s legs. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t try too much.

“Is this your first Pride?”

“Is it that obvious?” Lexa sighed, bashful at her display.

“No, you look cute. I like the festiveness.”

That didn’t help anything at all. Lexa looked around for her sister who made herself busy talking to other people and not at all available to bail her out of saying anymore words.

“I’m gay,” Lexa finally blurted after a prolongued moment of silence.

“That’s cool.”

“Thanks.”

A shout reached them over the noise of the parade, and both looked in that direction.

“I have to um,” Clarke looked over her shoulder at the group that was calling her name. “I have to go catch up with my friends.”

“Right, yeah, definitely.”

“It was good to see you, Woods,” she grinned as she backed away. “I hope I get to bump into you again.”

“Right, yeah! Me, uh. Me too,” Lexa nodded.

With another wave, Clarke was gone, swept up by her friends as they moved through the crowd. Lexa caught the look that Clarke gave her over her shoulder and she smiled because she got a look back. It might not have meant anything, but it still felt kind of good.

“Your first Pride, and you’re getting chatted up by a grade A hottie. I’m impressed,” her sister slung her arm over her shoulder.

“That was just a girl from school.”

“She was not what I pictured for your type.”

“I don’t-- I don’t have a type,” Lexa furrowed.

“Everyone does. It just so happens that yours seems to be punk baddies with probable daddy issues.”

“There’s no way you could know--”

“She was digging you too, by the way.”

“There’s no-- I don’t-- She wouldn’t-- That was-- No,” Lexa shook her head.

“Trust me. I’ve seen gay relief, and that girl was gay relieved you were gay.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Don’t be mad because i have my ear to the ground in the gay community,” Anya shook her head. “I’ll have you know that Kaitlyn said I’d make a great lesbian.”

“Please let me die right here.”

XXXXXXXXXX

The library on Fourth Street was nearly always empty around the end of lunch time. It seemed to empty out come the hottest part of the day with the normal crowd of parents and kids looking to stay busy during the long summer hours came in for story time and craft projects.

With no particular impetus to move quickly, Lexa pushed her cart of returns through the aisles and rearranged any messy or disorganized stacks she found. But her head wasn’t particularly in it.

Instead, Lexa thought about Pride, and replayed the entire interaction with a certain mild degenerate who had a pretty smile, who called her cute, she realized, halfway through overanalyzing it again for the hundredth time. All she could wonder was if this is what having a crush felt? And if so, was it possible to have crush after just three minutes? Nothing really prepared her for this. How could it? He didn’t have time for a crush. She only had to focus and get into the school she wanted. And then she could be who she thought she might want to be.

“Hey Woods.”

Lexa stopped as she turned to the next aisle, only to find the exact subject of her internal debate. There was a book tucked into her elbow as she retracted an arm reached out to grab something on a top shelf. Lexa looked to her bare arms, and then to her hips where a flannel was tied, and only subtly hiding her short shorts and some of the long legs and Lexa was gay.

“I know it’s a library, but I’m sure you can talk a little bit,” Clarke smiled.

Sunglasses tucked and holding her hair up out of her face, the girl had a motorcycle helmet tucked into the same elbow as the book.

“Hey,” Lexa managed.

“You work here?”

“Yeah, just doing some little things, stacking, kids story time and stuff.”

“Sounds fun,” Clarke nodded. She leaned against the shelf behind her and watched Lexa push her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. This was the Lexa she was used to seeing, and it did nothing to make her less interested, which was insanely weird.

“Here for anything good?”

“Uh, just some of the summer reading for Lit. And I’m kind of interested in a few SAT practice books. I took it already, but there’s one more that I can take before applications are due, and I’d like to see if I can do a little better.”

It certainly wasn’t the reason Lexa expected, but she should have known better to expect anything from someone she really didn’t know other than through stories of stories of stories from other people.

“Sounds like you have a busy summer planned.”

Clarke laughed and ducked her head and Lexa tried not to be entranced by the action.

“Have to keep busy between the protests and debauchery.”

“Right, same.”

“Everyone kind of left for the summer, it seems. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Lexa agreed. “I miss my friends, but I’ve gotten a lot of things done.”

“I’m sure you’re already done with the summer homework.”

“No… well, just most of it.”

“We’re two weeks into summer break, Woods,” Clarke pretended to admonish. Lexa shrugged, slightly guilty. “We’re going to have to find something to keep you busy.”

“I think work will take care of that.”

“You’re forgetting that I saw you at Pride. I know that you know how to have fun,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows slightly. “And I know that you find me absolutely irresistible and cute.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“So you admit it then?”

“What? No,” Lexa shook her head and pushed her cart down the row, looking for the place to put the next in her pile.

But Clarke wasn’t ready to leave, and she hung around, pushing off of the shelf only to follow Lexa and hover closer than Lexa could almost handle.

“You checked me out at Pride.”

“I did not.”

“You did. I saw it. And you let me know you were interested in girls. If you didn’t know yet, I’m a girl, so the math seems to be adding up.”

“Correlation does not imply causation,” Lexa responded quickly. “Your logic is not at all close to sound.”

“So you don’t like me?”

“I don’t even know you. If anything, I just find your face and,” Lexa moved her hand in Clarke’s direction, “that, all, pleasing.”

“Good to know.”

“Who even walks around telling people that they find them attractive. It’s maddening to have that much confidence.”

Lexa jammed the book into the shelf as Clarke leaned beside her, grinning that grin that meant she was amused. That was also maddening. All of it suddenly was maddening, and Lexa missed the quiet of her shelves and wished she could go back in time and not let herself go to Pride. Then she wouldn’t have to see Clarke Griffin.

“I like to have a healthy opinion of myself.” Lexa snorted. “And you should have one of yourself. Want to know a secret?”

It was the smile that did it. And the eyes. But Lexa looked at Clarke and softened somewhat. It was due to the proximity, she told herself. Nothing else that she could control.

“Sure.”

“I didn’t really need these books,” Clarke offered. “I mean, I could have just ordered them online like a normal person. And I live closer to the Redwood Branch.”

“Then why’d you come here?”

“Hard to imagine you’re the valedictorian,” she chuckled. “I came to see you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I saw you at Pride and was intrigued. Thought I might feel it out a little bit.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Why not, Woods?” Clarke sighed. “I’ve got nothing but time and… well, I didn’t know you were into girls.”

“How can you be so just… How can you just say what you’re thinking?”

“Lots of practice,” she smiled.

“I could never imagine just… just… just…” Lexa waved her hands around slightly as she tried to explain what she couldn’t. “I couldn’t just do that. What if it went badly?”

“Is it going badly?”

“No, but-- wait. Maybe. What I mean is…” It didn’t help that Clarke was leaning closer and Lexa was stuck in the stacks with a girl that was flirting with her and she’d never had that before and it was way better than she could have ever imagined. “Wouldn’t ou have been embarrassed if I just ignored you or something?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Clarke nodded. “But my dad used to tell me to do one thing every day that scared me. Figured I’d get it done before dinnertime today.”

She was charming and honest and refreshing and unlike anyone Lexa had ever met. It was a whirlwind.

“I have to finish this before my shift ends,” she tore her eyes away from Clarke’s and looked back at her cart.

“Right, yeah, definitely,” Clarke agreed.

“I should do that.”

“I should go check these out.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around this summer.”

“Yeah,” Clarke grinned. “Maybe.”

Lexa stood there as Clarke turned back toward reception.

“Clarke-- I um,” Lexa watched as she turned around. “I’ve never flirted… with anyone, really.”

“That is surprising news.”

She could tell from her tone that it wasn’t news, and Lexa pursed her lips and set her jaw. She stood a little straighter, steeling herself.

“I hope I see you around.”

“We do seem to keep running into each other.”

With a final smile, Clarke winked and disappeared.

XXXXXXXXXX

Standing outside of the house on the corner, Clarke looked at the perfectly trimmed hedges and the flag that hung by the door. The lawn was manicured and neat, the house was beautiful, lit up and glowing with life inside in the waning light. It was in the suburbs and insanely suburban. A tire swing hung from a giant oak. A basketball hoop hung over the garage.

For the life of her, Clarke wasn’t sure how she ended up here, except that she made herself stand awkwardly in front of Lexa Wood’s house. Three years ago, she met Lexa as a freshman, and instantly had a crush on the girl who argued with her in history class. But Clarke also decided to avoid having a crush on the cute girl who pushed up her glasses and tried very hard to be absolutely perfect.

She still kind of always had a crush, despite her refusal to admit it. For the past three years, Clarke tried to make Lexa smile from time to time. She’d do something stuipd and make sure Lexa was watching.

But Pride was one of the few times in the past year they’d spoken. And Clarke was certain that now was her chance, so she took it. And after the library, she spent every day for a week and a half showing up at the library. She brought Lexa lunch a few times, followed her around the stacks, chatting and fully developing a crush. It was easy to do. Lexa was funny, and serious, and witty, and quiet, and smart, like ridiculously smart, and she wasn’t afraid of Clarke, or intimidated. She debated her with vigor, had opinions, had plans, and more importantly, had dreams.

Clarke knew why she was standing on Lexa’s front porch, and she knew why she was slightly nervous to knock, she just hated someone being able to do that, in equal parts as much as she craved it.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was good before she knocked.

“Hey,” Lexa greeted her, smiling and pushing up her glasses as she does her best to not look winded from running to the door.

“Hey,” Clarke sighs, matching her grin, forgetting all of the thoughts of before. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks. I, uh, you too. I like the black eye in particular.”

“Oh, this?” she motioned toward the eye that had a little bruising. “Just, um. Bopped myself in the face while working out.”

“What were you doing? Boxing?”

“Krav Maga. My partner got a little overzealous.”

“Goodness.”

“I’ll try to be extra charming to make up for my disfigurement. I hope your gentle eyes can make it past my horrible appearance.”

“I’ll do my best to look past it.”

“Good,” Clarke smiled and handed over a helmet. “Are you ready for the first date?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They walked toward the motorcycle sitting near the curb. Clarke pressed her palm to the flat of Lexa’s back. She handed over a helmet and Lexa looked at it curiously.

“For your protection. Have you ever ridden on anything like this before?”

“I’ve driven go karts.”

“Not the same thing,” Clarke chuckled. “Here, I’ll help.”

The helmet eclipsed her, but Lexa tilted it upwards so that Clarke’s skilled fingers could tighten the strap beneath it. She lifted the visor and watched Clarke work.

“I feel like a badass.”

“You are.”

“Do I look the part?” Lexa asked, smiling slightly as Clarke hopped on the motorcycle and put on her own helmet.

“Very much,” she promised, flipping down both of their visors. “Hold on tight.”

The date wasn’t anything fancy, but Clarke was hoping it was enough. They drove to the park, with Lexa’s arms wrapped tightly around her, and she took the long way, nice and slow, just for that reason.

The park was busy, fully of people ready to enjoy the evening and a movie. Clarke unloaded a blanket and her backpack full of snacks, fully prepared to show off her dateable skills. From what she knew about Lexa, she assumed it was her first first date, and she was going to set the bar extremely high.

Before the movie started, they talked about nothing in particular, and Clarke was careful to get in a little teasing, which Lexa returned, smiling the entire time, challenging her. During the movie, Clarke let Lexa lay her head on her lap, and shivered because she gave her the only sweatshirt she had.

Even after it ended, they remained, hanging out in the twilight and talking, hovering, close and unsure and happy. Later into the night, after another trip back to Lexa’s, Clarke bashfully stood on the porch and earned a hug and completely bungled the kiss, unable to read Lexa and unable to make herself that brave.

“Did you have a good time?” Clarke ventured, leaning against the railing.

“I really did. Thank you.”

“Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.”

“Great,” Clarke grinned.

“Great.”

XXXXXXXXXX

It was almost like a game at this point, for Lexa to stumble upon Clarke somewhere in the library during her shift. Rarely was it in the same place twice, and rarely was it when she was expecting it, though she found herself always looking forward to the smile and girl that sometimes brought her snacks.

For the first month of summer break, Lexa didn’t even realize she’d spent most of it talking to or spending time with Clarke Griffin. It just kind of happened, and she found herself getting attached. She found herself flirting, or so she thought. She definitely found herself flirted with, which was still so wonderful.

Clarke wasn’t what she’d thought. She was insanely frustrating and still too hot for her own good, and smarter than she wanted anyone to know, while at the same time being absolutely addicted to her moral code and her’s alone.

In a month, Lexa learned that Clarke was not in a gang, despite everyone thinking it was a gang, but rather had a close knit group of friends that occasionally contributed to shenanigans of a disruptive nature. She learned that she was a hell of an artist, sketching things here and there, and when they ventured out on a hike or spent time lounging around, showed her sketchbook very timidly. She learned that Clarke’s father died three years ago, and that was where she disappeared to freshman year. She learned that Clarke liked to work on her motorcycle herself instead of taking to a shop because she wanted to feel closer to her father. Lexa spent an entire afternoon learning parts of the bike and helping with an oil change.

For an entire month, Clarke pushed Lexa. She pushed her to go on dates. She pushed her to jump off of the old bridge foundation at the river when they went swimming. She pushed her to watch a few movies she wasn’t sure of. She pushed her to egg street signs for the first time ever.

“Excuse me, but I’m looking for a book about a cute librarian who has a crush on a girl named Clarke. Know where I can find that?”

Lexa smiled despite herself as she turned the corner in one of the farther aisles in the library’s second floor.

“I was just thinking about you.”

“All good things I hope.”

“More or less.”

That seemed like good enough for Clarke who returned Lexa’s smile. The two stood there, close in the tight aisle, but used to the proximity.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come over tonight. We could watch a movie and you could read my essay and give a million edit suggestions. I’ll even let you use your red pen.”

“It shows up better.”

“Yeah yeah,” Clarke humored her.

“I’ll be over after dinner then.”

“Good.”

“Were you leaving already?” Lexa furrowed as Clarke shoulder her backpack and shifted instead of getting comfortable or even grabbing some of the books to help her put back on the shelves.

“I have to see a guy about a thing.”

“Just a drive by today, and no snack?”

“Like I would ever leave you wanting,” Clarke tsk’d as she dug in her bag and pulled out Lexa’s favorite assortment of gummy bears. “I know what you like, Woods.”

“You’re spoiling me. I’ll have to start working out more often or I’ll be too slow for track.”

“You’re fit. I mean, you’re--”

“Perv.”

“Sometimes,” Clarke shrugged.

Lexa held her bag of snacks in her hand and smiled at them softly. She saw Clarke’s shoes nearly touching her own, and when she looked up, she realized how close they truly were. But she didn’t move. She just stood there and tried to figure out what Clarke’s eyes were saying, because they were furrowed until they weren’t, and then there was a peace there, a decisive calm.

Lexa felt a hand on her shirt, grasping it near her heartbeat. Clarke paused before she did it, waiting for Lexa to pull away, asking for permission. Only when she got it, did she lean forward and kiss Lexa enough to take her breath away. The only thing Lexa could hear was the blood thumping in her ears, but she ignored it and kissed Clarke back eagerly.

“Thanks, Woods,” Clarke murmured after a few seconds. “I needed that.”

“Yeah, no, yeah.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Right, later, mhm,” Lexa nodded and ran her thumb along her bottom lip as Clarke moved, leaving her rooted and blushing.

“If you liked that, we could do it more often,” Clarke offered as she walked backward out of the shelves.

“Sounds very good to me.”

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 4

Sad Boys and Fun Facts

Patton’s a sad boi but Virgil has a distraction

Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5

Three weeks had passed since Virgil had first texted Roman. In those three weeks, Virgil had learned a lot about his new friends.

First, there was Patton. God, did that man love puns. Virgil also loved puns, but he preferred reading Patton’s puns over making his own. Remus had caught Virgil blushing at his phone and made a comment about his new “friends with benefits” (Virgil had been unable to respond. He was too busy trying to hold back his giggles from one of Patton’s pun tangents). Patton also made it clear that he was the “Dad Friend” of the group. Virgil couldn’t type a single self-deprecating comment without Patton threatening to physically fight him. It was rather terrifying, really. He also made sure that everyone was taking care of themselves. Once they learned that they were in the same timezone (They hadn’t shared cities yet. Friend or no, Virgil was telling where he lived in that quickly) Patton made it his goal to check in and make sure that Virgil ate at mealtime. One last thing about Patton was his… struggle with technology. He tended to send almost everything directly to the group chat instead of private messages. Logan said that he tried to teach Patton how to do so, but the lessons never seemed to stick.

Speaking of Logan, the nerd had his own quirks. He didn’t type much, usually only responding when someone required everyone to respond. The other time that he typed was during debates. Nine days into their friendship, Virgil had mentioned saying “you too” to a cute barista and claimed that he ruined any chances with his new crush. While Patton and Roman offered words of encouragement, Logan remained silent. Virgil had assumed that Logan agreed with him but didn’t want to upset his boyfriends. As soon as their conversation ended, Virgil received a private text from Logan, requesting to debate. They argued over cognitive distortions for a whole hour before they reached a compromise. Logan had called the debate “lit” and asked if they could debate again in the future. That was another thing about Logan. Apparently, he had vocabulary cards for slang words. When he was talking out loud, he would hold the card up so the others knew what slang word he was attempting to use. When texting, he would put quotation marks around the word. It was adorable, in Virgil’s humble opinion.

Then there was Roman. Princey was known for his dramatic flair and Disney references. When he was feeling especially Extra™ , he would use “thees” and “thys” and call people peasants. He also had a love for nicknames. Patton had very few personal nicknames, with most of them being terms of endearment like “honey” and “amor.” Most of Logan’s nicknames pertained to him being a nerd, such as “pocket protector” and “Microsoft Nerd.” He seemed to have a limitless number of nicknames for Virgil, with most of them referencing his emo-aesthetic (how Princey had discovered that so early in their friendship, Virgil had no clue). He never repeated Virgil’s nicknames; the only exception was “storm cloud,” which he tended to use at least once every conversation.

Virgil had become extremely close with the trio over these three weeks. That wasn’t the only thing he did, just the thing he did most often. The Dark Sides had finalized their contract with Thomas, who set up a tour almost immediately. Virgil really should have seen that coming. Their band had become extremely popular over the past few years, and they had only done one tour before this. Performing across the country would help boost their popularity even further. Virgil sighed, his anxiety spiking at just the thought of seeing all those faces in the crowd. That was why he used the persona Anxiety. Anxiety wasn’t afraid of anything, he was fear. Being Anxiety allowed Virgil to be confident and suave without worrying about judgment. They judged Anxiety, not Virgil. The case was similar for Janus and Remus. Deceit was elegant and mysterious, while Duke was loud and over-the-top. They didn’t have to be rejects wanting to fit in with society. No, they were Rockstars. Society wanted to fit in with them. And Virgil was just fine with that.

Bzzz

Vigil glanced over at his phone. He was in Los Angelas right now, around halfway through his tour, which put him 3 hours behind his new friends. He glanced over at his clock, 9:45 PM glaring at him through the dark. He turned back to his phone. Why are they up at 12:45 in the morning? I know Logan keeps them on a rigid sleep schedule.

P- (9:45 PM) Ro? Are you still up?

V- (9:45 PM) Pat, why are you still up?

P- (9:45 PM) Why are you still up, kiddo? It’s almost 1 AM! Don’t you have a hangout with your friends today?

Virgil sighed, thinking of the concert he had tomorrow. He glanced over to his sketchbook. Patton had been really impressed with his sketches, so he had been practicing less gory drawings to show him. It had evolved into something almost therapeutic. Knowing how he worked, Virgil would probably sketch until around 2 in the morning, then sleep until 8 AM. The concert wasn’t until 7 PM, so he had enough time to sleep in if necessary.

V- (9:46 PM) First of all, you know I’m in California right now. It’s 9:46 for me. Second of all, we’re not hanging out until tomorrow night, so I can sleep in if needed. Third of all, you’re avoiding the question: What are you and Roman doing up at 1 in the morning? I thought you guys had work in the morning.

P- (9:47 PM) We do. Roman got a burst of inspiration at around 10, and he usually refuses to sleep until he writes it all down. He probably fell asleep at his desk, that silly billy!

V- (9:47 PM) That doesn’t explain why you’re still awake. And why didn’t you get up to check on him? I thought you guys lived together.

P- (9:47 PM) We do! I just couldn’t fall asleep tonight. And the bed’s too warm to get up!

V- (9:48 PM) Well, Princey’s probably being a “sleeping beauty”

Virgil frowned at his phone. Patton hadn’t responded to his text. Sure, that wasn’t a very good pun, but it was still a pun. Patton laughed at every pun he saw, or at least followed it up with another pun. He could be asleep, but didn’t he just say that he had trouble sleeping?

V- (9:50 PM) Pat?

P- (9:50 PM) Yeah, Kiddo?

V- (9:50 PM) Are you okay?

V- (9:52 PM) Patton?

V- (9:52 PM) I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Just because you didn’t answer my pun doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you. I’m sorry that I sounded like an asshole.

P- (9:52 PM) No, Sweety. It’s fine! It’s nice to know that someone cares about you!

P- (9:53 PM) I’m just a little sad today.

V- (9:53 PM) Do you wanna talk about it?

P- (9:54 PM) I’m fine, Kiddo! This just happens sometimes. No need to worry!

Virgil sighed, thinking about how much Patton reminded him of Janus. Janus grew up neglected, and was taught to convince everyone that his life was perfect. By the time Virgil had met him, Janus was 19 and a compulsive liar. Virgil wasn’t much better, having just gotten kicked out of the foster system. Virgil lived with Janus (and soon Remus) until The Dark Sides had enough income for Virgil to live on his own (technically Janus had more than enough money for that- his parents were loaded. But Virgil wanted to have something that he earned. He wasn’t just some charity case). When they first lived together, Virgil could never tell what Janus was actually thinking. It took a lot of time and trust to separate Janus from Deceit. Now, he was still heavily sarcastic, and he tended to close himself off when he got upset, but Janus had come a long way.

Virgil looked back to his phone. Patton didn’t seem to have it as bad as Janus did, but you could never tell. At least he acknowledged that he wasn’t okay. There is the chance that something really is bothering him, but Virgil had to trust Patton on that note. It is entirely possible that Patton is just feeling down today; God knows how many times Virgil would question why he should get out of bed. He bit his lip. What helps me when I feel sad for no reason? He smiled, remembering when Remus would spout the most obscene things to distract himself from his own negative thinking. A distraction.

V- (9:56 PM) Did you know that giraffes can clean their ears with their own tongues?

P- (9:56 PM) What?

V- (9:56 PM) “Rhythm” is the longest word in the English language that doesn’t have a vowel.

V- (9:56 PM) Elephants are the only mammals that cannot jump.

P- (9:57 PM) More like Elecan’t!

V- (9:57 PM) Haha :)

V- (9:57 PM) Without food coloring, Coca Cola would be green.

V- (9:57 PM) A 3-year-old boy was elected as mayor in Dorset, Minnesota

P- (9:58 PM) No way!

V- (9:58 PM) Yes way! His name was James Tufts.

V- (9:58 PM) 7 different dogs have been elected as mayors in the US.

P- (9:58 PM) I love dogs! They’re such good boys!

Virgil smiled, adding Loves Dogs to his mental list of Quirky things I like about Patton Morale. They continued to talk about dog mayors for a while until Patton ended it abruptly.

P- (10:14 PM) Why are you doing this?

V- (10:14 PM) Doing what?

P- (10:15 PM) Why are you going out of your way to try and cheer me up? You should’ve stopped talking to me 20 minutes ago. Instead, we’re laying here at 1 AM talking about dog mayors! I would have been fine on my own. Why are you wasting your time on me?

V- (10:16 PM) Pat, if you tell me that I’m wasting my time talking to you, I’m going to have to physically fight you. You are my FRIEND. I care about you. When you’re sad, I WANT to cheer you up. When you’re happy, I WANT to laugh along to your punny jokes. Because I know, at the end of the day, if I was sad and needed someone to cheer me up, you would do it in a heartbeat. You, Lo, and Princey are amazing people, and my time spent with you will NEVER be a waste. I swear.

Virgil sighed, dropping his phone on the bed. He might’ve been too forward with that last text. But it was true. While the four of them weren’t nearly as close as Virgil was with Janus and Remus, he still cared about them a lot.

P- (10:18 PM) Thanks, Virgil. That really means a lot to me

P- (10:18 PM) I’m gonna try and get some sleep now

V- (10:18 PM) Alright Patton, Goodnight

P- (10:18 PM) Goodnight

The next day, Virgil saw a postcard in the window of a gift shop. It had a puppy with sunglasses on the beach, with cartoonish letters saying “Having A WonderFUR Time!” He took a picture and sent it to Princey.

V- (1:08 PM) What’s your address or PO? I wanna send this to Patton.

R- (1:09 PM) Say no more, Hot Topic!

V- (1:09 PM) Aw, you think I’m hot.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus

#sanders sides fic #useless gays #LAMP fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #texting fic

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fictionallyinparadise · 3 years ago

Text

Hnngbnd...

Darryn: Why aren’t you sleeping?

Arthur: I’m to busy plotting your murder to sleep, Darryn.

Darryn:

Arthur: ...The nightmares.

Darryn, wrapping his arms around Arthur: Awwww, sweetie-

***

Arthur: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face.

Darryn:

Darryn: I like you.

***

Darryn: I’ve only had Arthur for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

***

Darryn: Look Arthur, I'm not slut shamming you but...

Darryn: Actually yeah, I'm TOTALLY slut shamming you.

***

Arthur: We both look very handsome tonight.

Darryn: You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you."

Arthur: I couldn't take that chance.

***

Darryn: That was so hot, Arthur.

Arthur: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Darryn: I'm so in love with you.

***

Arthur: I’ve been dropping him the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Darryn: Wow. He sound stupid.

Arthur: But he's not. He's really smart actually. Just dense.

Darryn: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Arthur: I guess you’re right. Hey Darryn, I love you.

Darryn: See! Just say that!

Arthur: Holy fucking shit.

Darryn: If that flies over his head then, sorry Arthur, but he's too dumb for you.

Arthur: Darryn.

***

Darryn: Are we fighting or flirting?

Arthur: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Darryn: Your point?

***

Darryn: What happened?!

Arthur: Do you want the long version or the short version?

Darryn: Sh-short??

Arthur: Shit's fucked.

Darryn: Okay, long.

Arthur: Shit's very fucked.

***

Arthur: I made tea.

Darryn: I don't want tea.

Arthur: I didn't make you tea. This is my tea.

Darryn: Then why did you tell me?

Arthur: It's a conversation starter.

Darryn: It's a horrible conversation starter.

Arthur: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate.

***

Arthur: I’m sad.

Darryn: Don’t be sad, because sad backwards is das.

Darryn: And das not good.

***

Arthur: Darryn, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason.

Darryn, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than their size: Spooky.

***

Darryn: honk.

Arthur: WHAT.

Darryn: HONK.

Arthur: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

***

Arthur: I want to kiss you.

Darryn, not paying attention: What?

Arthur: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

***

Arthur: And what do I get out of this?

Darryn: I will give you a dollar.

Arthur: What do you think I am? A chump? I would never do it for a dollar!

Darryn: How bout two dollars?

Arthur: You got yourself a deal.

***

Arthur: Who the fuck-

Darryn: Language!

Arthur: Whom the fuck-

Darryn: No.

***

Darryn: When I was your age-

Arthur, mocking Darryn: When I was your height.

Darryn:

Darryn: Listen here you little shit-

***

Darryn: Are you busy?

Arthur: Yes.

Darryn: Cool, listen to this.

***

Darryn: You remind me of the ocean.

Arthur: Because I'm deep and mysterious?

Darryn: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

***

Arthur: I want a bf.

Darryn: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

***

Arthur: "Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge" - Charles Darwin

Darryn: What the fuck? Begets isn't a word. Quit trying to make up words, fuckface.

***

Darryn: Do you need help getting up?

Arthur: Nah, I'm cool down here on the floor.

***

Darryn: I'm going to take a shower, I'll be right back.

Arthur: Why are you telling me this, I don't care.

Arthur, right after Darryn leaves the room: I miss it already.

***

Arthur: What happened to your nose?

Darryn: I used it to break some guy's fist.

***

Darryn: Shut up, you’re messing with my train of thought!

Arthur: I thought you didn’t have a brain and now you say you have thoughts?

***

Darryn: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Arthur, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

***

Arthur: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium*

Darryn: Arthur, what did you think a tiger shark was?

***

Arthur: Do you have a bobby pin?

Darryn: Yeah. *searches in their hair*

Darryn: Oh, no, wait. I’m not a nine-year-old girl.

***

Arthur: I owe you one.

Darryn: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

***

Arthur: Darryn, I need some advice.

Darryn: You need advice from ME?

Arthur: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

***

Darryn: Fight me!

Arthur, standing behind it and holding a pipe: *mouths* Do not.

***

Darryn: Arthur, you’re such a genius!

Arthur: Yes, I know.

***

Darryn: I am going to need you to swear-

Arthur: Fuck.

Darryn:

Darryn: ...swear as in promise.

***

Darryn: Arthur! Have you no dignity?

Arthur: Of course not! How long have we known eachother?

***

Darryn: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone.

Arthur: And I need you to be less vague and weird.

***

Arthur: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT!

Darryn: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Arthur: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

Darryn: Somehow that's worse.

***

Darryn: I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Arthur: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

Darryn: You don’t have to wear…

Arthur: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

***

Darryn: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it.

Darryn: Everything will be fine. You have no choice.

Arthur: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that?

Darryn: Ominous positivity.

#tw swearing #tw caps #💊; just two downers #incorrect quotes #correct quotes #heh

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ramblings-of-a-foolish-mortal · 4 years ago

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Constellations in your soul - C2

///Preface: this chapter has dissociation and some self deprecation in it. After releasing the first chapter I realized that some warnings might be in order so that people who are sensitive to the topic don’t suffer because of it. I hope you enjoy it and as always, comments and suggestions are welcome. :)///

Sirius sat on a toilet lid in the abandoned bathroom, holding up his arm up in an uncomfortable position while holding his shirt in his lap. Remus had spent a solid 10 minutes inspecting him to see what injuries there were before he’d even started to put Sirius back together. Remus held a grimace on his face and briefly brought his sleeved hand to his nose, like trying to wipe away a scent or a smell.

“Jeez, blood has a strong smell…” his grimace faded as he rolled up his sleeves, kneeling back to get a better look at what he was doing.

“So, remind me why we never use magic to do this?” Sirius leaned back a bit before Remus gently reminded him he needed to sit up straight for this. Haha, straight.

“Because healing spells are complicated, and while I may be smart I’m not about to rearrange your ribcage for something I could easily do with my hands.” Remus frowned as he spoke, mumbling things under his breath as he took note of them. His face scrunched up a little bit when he was concentrating, and his eyes remained focused on his target. His intense glare was one you didn’t usually want to be on the receiving end of, and it was pointed right at Sirius’ chest. Right now, he appeared to be trying to glare Sirius’ injuries out of existence. “What happened to make her this mad? I thought she doesn’t usually beat you like this unless she thought you did something?” Remus’ voice cracked when he said ‘beat’ like it caused him pain just to think about it.

Aww, you really think he cares about you Sirius. He just feels obligated to help you, you’re a burden in his life and thorn in his side.

I know…

“Uh- It wasn’t really anything bad,” Sirius shifted to prop his arm up on the water tank of the toilet, “She got upset at Regulus because he burnt the bacon, but I distracted him. At least, that’s what I told her, so she got mad at me. It’s not really that-!” Sirius growled quietly when Remus pressed on his side, pain flaring up his side and in his lungs. Shit that hurt…

“Sorry,” Remus muttered as he stood, walking over to an empty stall at the end of the row and coming back with a briefcase full of muggle first aid supplies. They’d hid it in here last year when Sirius had first explained what his family was like. Remus was very astute and had noticed Sirius consistently sleeping on his stomach and changing in the bathroom rather than the dorm, like the other boys (among other things like pained expressions and groaning in his sleep, which Sirius had no memory of doing.) Remus pulled out bruise cream and started spreading it across Sirius’ back and chest.

Sirius felt his face flush, looking up at the ceiling. “Take me on a date first, Remus.” A small, possibly awkward laugh left him, immediately replaced with a grimace as his ribs shifted slightly. Great… now he thinks I’m weird. I mean, he probably already did. I’m so fucking awkward why am I like this?

It’s because you’re worthless. Awkward? Closer to repulsive. He’s seen you beaten and bruised and broken so many times. Do you honestly think he still sees you the same way as before? Sirius’ grimace faded as he stared at the ceiling.

He cares, I know he cares. If he didn’t, he would’ve run away a long time ago.

PLEASE. You, James, and Peter are the only people who would accept him for being a werewolf. He’s got it SO much worse than you, and yet you make him take care of you. Bend to your whim.

Just shut up…

“Sirius, are you alright? “ Remus looked up at him from his crouching position at his side. Sirius looked down at him, leaning forward slightly.

“Yeah?” Remus held his eyes for a moment, studying Sirius for a moment, then offered him back his shirt.

“I finished. Your shirt might stick a little bit, but once your skin absorbs it you should be good. We’ll want to change the bandages on the cuts in a couple days.” Remus smiled slightly, offering Sirius a hand. Sirius took it, pulling himself up.

“Wait, there were cuts?” Sirius frowned slightly. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I felt any cuts… “ Remus gently touched Sirius’ back, right between his shoulder blades.

“Yeah, there were some right here, and a couple on your upper shoulder. Make sure not to move your arms too much. At least as best as you can.”

“Yes, Nurse.” Sirius sent a smirk at Remus before trying to pull his shirt on, face immediately contorting into a pained expression when his arms went over his head. Remus laughed quietly.

“Aww, do you need help getting your shirt on?” Sirius glared at him, pulling his shirt down, huffing quietly. “I’ve been reading a First Aid book published by a muggle health organization. It’s incredibly informative. I really enjoyed reading it too.” Remus let himself smile while closing, clipping, and rehiding the bag of First Aid supplies.

“You’re such a nerd, Remus. I mean, why would you read when you can climb trees or flirt.” Sirius waited until Remus was next to him to start walking back to the dorms with him.

“Because I find books much more enjoyable than people. They’re quiet, usually, and don’t require me to move very much. Pair that with the inevitable social interaction required when surrounded by other people, I tend to avoid people when I can.” Remus glanced over at Sirius as he spoke. Sirius had to tilt his head up slightly to look at Remus’ face, noticing how his hair reflected the torchlight. Well hot damn, I’m just too gay for this shit.

Sirius laughed at himself quietly, and they walked the rest of the way to the dorm in comfortable silence. Once Sirius climbed into bed, he carefully laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, thoughts racing through his mind as everything from How can I frustrate Professor McGonigal tomorrow to Should I leave James and Remus and Peter so they can finally have some peace?

His thoughts continued to wander as he fell asleep, pulling the blankets up another inch or two before drifting off.

While Sirius lay sleeping, Remus lay awake in his bed, trying to distract himself from the repetitive image of Sirius’ bruised and welted chest. Under different circumstances, Remus would’ve been incredibly embarrassed and flustered touching Sirius like that, but the bruises, cuts, welts, and scars had him in a significantly darker mood. Why would they hurt Sirius like that… actually, nevermind, they’re bastards with no souls. The better question is: Why does Sirius put himself in harm's way like that. He knows he’ll get it worse than Regulus, but yet he still chooses to take the blame for things, even small things. This is the worst I’ve seen him injured since second year…

Remus frowned at the memory of Sirius laying in his bed, asleep and severely injured. That day he’d traveled via firepit to Remus’ house after having almost been beaten to death by his own mother.

He could remember clearly the moment when he ran downstairs to see what had caused such a loud thump in his living room and panicked at the sight of Sirius covered in blood and bruises. It had taken quite a bit of both muggle remedies and magic to heal Sirius. They were lucky Remus’ mother knew First Aid and his father had become acquainted with healing spells through his work. He’d sat by Sirius for days, making sure he was okay, keeping him safe, getting him water and food and anything else he needed. Remus had been glaring at the wall with such fervor he’d given himself a headache. He groaned quietly, turning to his other side. He could hear Sirius breathing and chose to focus on that. The steadiness of his breath was calming, though Remus heard him occasionally heard Sirius’ breath hitch in his chest when he inhaled too deeply, heaven forbid he have a good night’s rest. I will have to invest more time in First Aid. It’s quite useful…

Remus closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, after a long time of his mind disobeying him, he started to ease into foggy rest.

A few weeks had passed since the first day of the term without much transpiring in the way of excitement. James was still preparing for his first big stunt of the year, and Sirius had been busy helping him. They hadn’t gone to bed until late the previous night due to planning what had to be their biggest, awesomest project yet, a map that would be able to track the students and teacher. One only they would be able to use.

Because of the late-night, and subsequent awful sleep, Sirius woke up at the unholy hour of 05:00 AM. He didn’t normally rise this early, but after waking up in a cold sweat from a nightmare he wasn’t too eager to go back to sleep either. Slowly, he sat up and blinked slowly. His mind and body felt like they were dry and stiff, not wanting to move exactly when he needed them to, and he felt phantom pains from the dream stacked on his physical injuries. While fighting his lethargy, he got out of bed while grimacing as his rib cage shifted, then rummaged through his suitcase, yet to be unpacked, and then padded towards the bathrooms. His hair was likely a mess, but that would be fixed with a shower. And if it was still knotted, well, Remus was the only person he really let mess with his hair. James pulled too hard and hurt him, and Peter was so clumsy that the one time Sirius had let him touch his hair, it’d ended up so mangled it took Remus 3 hours to untangle. Sirius opened the doors to the bathroom, beginning to wash himself off. The water slowly woke him up enough to function, though there was still this lingering fog similar to silt covering his mind. A thought hit him in the middle of washing his hair, Today is gonna be shit… He frowned, frustratedly glaring at the wall. No, today is going to be FINE. I’m going to go to class like every morning. I’ll joke around with James, flirt with some people, and it will be good.

He stayed in the shower for another several minutes, simply because he felt like he didn’t have the energy to leave. When he finally gathered himself, he wasted more time while drying off. By the time he’d finally made it back to the boy's dorm room to put his dirty nightclothes in a basket by his bed, the other boys were up. One look at Remus told Sirius he hadn’t slept well either. They exchanged a mutual look of ‘You too, huh?’, before Remus broke eye contact to pull his sweater over his shirt. Remus had a tendency to only be semi-functional in the morning and preferred not to speak until after breakfast.

Sirius walked over to his nightstand to grab his brush, reaching out and halting when his hand closed around nothing. It’s not here… He glanced around the room and saw Remus holding it up in one hand while smiling slightly. Ah, there it is. Sirius sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Remus while James threw himself on Remus’ bed. Remus brushed out Sirius’ hair, occasionally using his fingers to untangle knots the brush wouldn’t pull through easily.

“You guys look absolutely awful. I keep forgetting you’re grouchy in the mornings.” James turned to lay on his back, watching Remus’ expression pass through 3 or 4 emotions before settling on mild dissatisfaction. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed but, well, James had been his friend for 4 years and picked up on some things. Sirius knocked on the top of James’ head, grabbing his attention.

“Well, you see, James, when two people-” Sirius had a grin on his face before Remus cut him off.

“Late night, little sleep, you’re a baby,” Remus spoke in a quiet mumble, probably still half asleep.

“Yeah, you’re one to talk James. If you don’t get your beauty sleep you’re grumpy all day! At least Remus turns functional after 3 gallons of coffee.” Sirius grinned as he spoke, though it was partially to cover up concern. He knew Remus hadn’t gotten to sleep until the small hours of the morning. I wish I could add more hours to the night, or knock him out. He might actually get some decent sleep if we drugged him… Remus poked the hairbrush over Sirius’ shoulder, catching Sirius’ eye and pulling him out of his train of thought.

“Here.” It came out barely audible as Sirius moved out of the way so that Remus could pull on his shoes. “Breakfast… Coffee… Tired… “ Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and started to trudge down the stairs. Sirius watched him leave, eyes trailing from his back to his muted and messy blond hair. He’s frickin’ adorable when he’s tired… Sirius smiled slightly, then glanced to his side where James had been only a few moments before, though now there was only an empty spot on the bed. Did he already go down to breakfast? Or did he go to flirt with Evans? Sirius stood up, walking into the common room just in time to see Lily telling off James for being a bother this early in the morning.

Sirius felt himself smile when he saw James trying to look sincere while staring at Lily with doe eyes. For some reason, James seemed to think it was hot when she was angry, though Sirius didn’t really understand it. He turned, continuing towards the Great Hall for breakfast, climbing out of the porthole and meandering down the hallway towards their normal spot for breakfast. Remus had all but claimed the spot as solely theirs. Even though he was so tired and usually the last one awake, he was also the first person to breakfast every day. Well, almost every day. Sirius glanced at the portraits on the wall, letting his thoughts drift. He knew Peter probably wouldn’t be there until the last 10 minutes, considering he wouldn’t be waking up for another 30 minutes at least. Sirius felt the smile melt from his face while looking at the portraits on the wall, a kind of quiet resignation worming its way into his brain. These wizards have all done great things. Only half of them have gone to Hogwarts but all of them have made some kind of great achievement… I’ll never make it on this wall… or into someone else’s wall, I won’t be on my own wall in my room by the time I’m old enough to move away… His body stiffened for a moment. I won’t be on my own wall… Since when did he want to be on his own bloody family tree? Since when did he want to be part of his own piece-of-shit family in his whole life? He turned, walking the rest of the way to the Great Hall. Of course, you want to be on your own wall, with the rest of your family. You’re just like them. Manipulative, hurtful, abusive. You’re so full of yourself you’re constantly playing the victim because nothing is ever your fault. How many other kids in this hall do you think have parents like yours? Probably all of them. They don’t have the kind of money your family does, they don’t have your kind of house, your parents' jobs, your siblings, the noble life. You’ve got it so much better than them and yet you think you have it bad? What kind of pathetic kid are you?

Sirius’ nails bit into his palms as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He knew the voice was right, but what could he do about it now? He’d already told Remus 2 years ago. His skin crawled at his own deceptions. I made Remus worry about me. I whined to him about my problems even though he has worse problems than any of us. Especially me. His thoughts turned and tumbled through his mind until they seemed to fade out. Like turning translucent. He watched the doors to the Great Hall pass overhead while his head grew lighter and his emotions turned into a little ball of chalk in his chest, compressed and hard and out of the way. He sat down at the table, sending a smile to Remus out of habit. Remus will worry… He didn’t talk most of breakfast, though he wasn’t incoherent. He frowned slightly when breakfast was over. I thought… I just sat down to eat. My food is gone… I guess I ate… Sirius stood up, watching his plate disappear before walking to his first class of the day, his satchel slung over his shoulder. I hope I can pay attention…

Almost an hour later he was finally able to start paying attention to his class, jotting down messy notes while flipping to a page in his Potions book. Sometimes he'd get spacey like he had earlier today, which was a pain because he had trouble focusing when he did that, and then he'd have to catch up on notes… which inevitably meant extra work. A mental groan pushed into his thoughts, along with yet another round of awful thoughts. Why won’t you just shut up for a while, huh? It’s not like I’m a COMPLETE failure. I have decent grades, at least. It’s hard to focus with all the noise in my head. He quietly growled at his papers, frustrated at his own lack of attention. Maybe I’ll just live under a bridge and join a troll. Or I’ll live as a stray dog. At least then I won’t take up unnecessary space. At least- His thoughts were interrupted by Remus touching his arm. Little bits of electricity raced around where Remus touched the fabric of Sirius’ shirt as he shifted his gaze from the parchment to Remus’ perfect face.

“Are you okay?” Remus spoke quietly, mostly mouthing the words. His touch on Sirius’ arm lightened like he was about to pull away. Sirius nodded, then shot him a winning grin.

“Ooh, Remus. It’s so nice to know you worry about me, but I’m fine.” Sirius purposefully made it sound flirty, letting his eyes close a little while pushing a small smirk. Remus arched an eyebrow at Sirius in what seemed to be suspicion or maybe just irritation. Sirius watched Remus for only a moment but felt his smirk turn into a smile, turning back to his work. “Really, I’m okay. Thank you for asking, though.” As he turned back to his work, his mind felt clearer, though he felt strangely cold once Remus retracted his hand, returning to his work. As Sirius continued taking notes and working, he felt more at peace with Remus there. He knew that Remus cared, and he knew Remus would be there if he ever needed him.

The thoughts didn’t entirely go away for the day but it got easier to ignore them, or at least make them quieter. Most of the day passed tediously slow, except the few times he got spacey again, as opposed to the first class that had passed almost in the blink of an eye. Sirius couldn’t even remember concretely if he’d actually gone to those classes, though he was sure he had because he had a nonsense compilation of notes from all the classes combined into an incomprehensible document. It wasn’t until after dinner that he realized how tired he was. He’d spent all day either on the run between classes that were on opposite ends of the castle or trying to be coherent in class while spacing out. As he started walking back to Gryffindor Tower, James smacked the back of his head as he ran past Sirius. Snapped out of his stupor, Sirius glared at him while smiling.

“You DIDN’T.” Sirius felt his smile grow wider before Remus stepped up next to him and took his bag. After a brief smile of thanks to Remus, Sirius took off after James, chasing him down the hall and dodging around people.

“Get him back for me, Sirius!” Peter called out to Sirius, cupping his hands so Sirius would hear him. Remus smiled slightly, glancing over at Peter for a moment.

“They are pretty ridiculous.” Remus shifted Sirius’ bag higher on his shoulder as he spoke. Peter let Remus have the moment before hesitantly opening his mouth to speak.

“Hey, Remus?” Peter glanced up, raising his head quite a bit to see Remus’ face, which was almost an entire head taller. “How far away until the next visit to the shack?” Remus’ face lost the smile. Their group had started referring to full-moons as ‘visits to the shack’ in an effort to normalize their conversations about it without letting everyone in a general vicinity know about Remus’ condition. Remus let out a quiet sigh, seeming to sag slightly.

“It’s two weeks away. Supposed to be on Wednesday. Though I don’t know if that’s 100% accurate.” Remus glanced out the window momentarily to look out the window onto the Hogwarts grounds. He saw the Whomping Willow in the corner of the visible grounds through the window. Remus could only stand to look at it for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor inside the castle. Peter nodded beside him, then turned down the hall towards the Gryffindor Tower.

“I have some chocolate from the house-elves. If you want some? I’d be happy to share, it’s honestly too much for me.” Remus smiled as Peter spoke. He was very sweet, and could usually see when someone needed something and acted on it frequently. That in its own right was very brave. Remus knew more people than he chose to count that rarely acted when they saw someone in any kind of pain.

“That would be wonderful, Peter. Thank you.”

By the time Remus and Peter made it up to the tower, James was sitting on the common room couch talking to some younger students about the quickest routes between different classes, and Sirius was nowhere to be found in the common room. He’s likely laying in bed, he seemed very tired earlier today… though he also seemed upset. I wonder what’s bothering him? Peter pulled a bar of chocolate out of his bag, handing it to Remus, smiling.

“Let me know if you want any more, I think I’ve got two more bars.” Peter sat down on the couch a moment later.

“Thank you, Peter. I think I’ll go to bed, though. Today has been rather tiring.” Remus gave a short wave to Peter and James, returning Peter’s smile. He unwrapped part of the chocolate bar and began to eat it as he walked up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, trying to think of what could be bothering Sirius. Maybe someone said something about his parents? Or someone may have said something unkind about Peter or me? In all honesty, it could have been anything, I shouldn’t be worrying too much. Remus’ thoughts stopped when he saw Sirius draped over his bed. He hadn’t even bothered to get under the covers, hair a mess all over his pillow, sprawled on the bed with one hand under the pillow. God, he’s gorgeous… Remus broke from his stupor, holding the chocolate bar in his mouth, then set his bags by his bed before walking over to Sirius, pulling back his covers and spreading them over the sleeping boy. Remus sat down on the edge of his own bed and watched Sirius for a moment, wondering what had exhausted him so thoroughly. It only took him a few bites to finish the chocolate bar. He pulled out a book as he took the last bite and felt a little disappointed that it had disappeared so quickly.

He shifted back on his bed until his back was propped up against the wall, opening the book he’d been reading to the bookmark. It was a muggle book he’d borrowed from his mother, and he enjoyed the story very much. It was about a simple, calm hobbit that got pulled into an adventure he wasn’t entirely ready for, Remus related to the character a little with all of the insanity James and Sirius pulled him into. The character was relatively soft-spoken, though not to be spoken over, and very protective. Remus smiled as he curled up, enjoying a quiet evening of reading The Hobbit and listening to the sound of rain.

///Thank you for reading. I don’t know how quickly I’ll be able to get these done, But i will try my best to post every other week, they may come more often, long chapters might take a little longer. :) Have a wonderful week and take care.///

#Constellations-in-your-soul #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #wolfstar #marauders #harry potter #angsty #it will have fluff eventually I promise just not right now #slowburn

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andiandyandee · 5 years ago

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We Are Going to Be Friends Pt. 7

I finally got freakin’ part 7 written, you guys do not realize how much I had to fight with this chapter for no goddamn reason.

Words: 1585

Tag List: @datfearlessfangirl @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking @holliberries

Here’s the series on ao3 here’s the last part in case you missed it

Okay here’s the Fic:

Logan did not expect that comment in his English class to escalate to.. this, but he didn’t argue when a freshman girl, one of the others who had begun taking high school classes early and was therefore in several of his classes, asked if she could sit with him at lunch, just so nobody would bother her, a few days after the incident. She had braces and glasses, looking far more like a traditional ‘nerd’ than Logan did. He obliged, leaving his headphones around his neck in case she decided to speak. He had chosen not to go back to Remus and Roman’s table, though they had offered. The girl, Alex, didn’t speak much, other to explain that she had been getting bullied by some of the older girls in her Physical Education class. Logan nodded but didn’t say much one way or the other in her defense. He did, however, give her his cell phone number, and the number of a self-defense trainer he knew. She began classes the next week.

Logan did not make friends, per se, but he did find himself with a few people more often than not. He had even begun regularly speaking to Elliot and Kai again, albeit tentatively. There were a few others like Alex, who mostly appeared hoping that being around Logan would help them avoid any harassment, but there were a few others, people who also liked science and literature, people who liked the same bands as Logan, a few members of the GSA that despite not knowing Logan’s sexuality adopted him into their groups, and convinced him to attend their meetings. His group was not unlike the group the twins had around them, though they tended to be less rambunctious in the school. Outside of school ended up being a different story, and Logan began spending less and less time at his parents' house. Evenings at punk shows in subpar bars and basements, killing time at parks and people’s houses, study sessions in the only library in town, where the Librarian pretended to shush them, as if they weren’t the only ones there, protests and counter-protests took up all of his time. Logan hadn’t dropped the apathetic nature he had developed, of course, but the people he sounded himself with didn’t seem to mind, and none of them were close enough to actually know that it was an act. He adamantly refused to make up with his brother, who would come into his room every night when he heard Logan climb in through the window to tell him he was being irresponsible. Logan would counter that his grades were even better than they had been previously, he had finally gotten his history grade up from a B to an A, and it had been Larry’s idea that Logan begin hanging out with people his own age, anyway.

Larry reminded Logan that he had lost weight because he was now regularly skipping meals to sit outside with his ‘friends’ and was never home for dinner. He pointed out that before he spent time with these people, Logan had been in fights, but never to the extent he seemed to get into them now. Logan had not, of course, told his brother that he spent most weekends at mosh pits or punching nazis, so of course he had assumed Logan was fighting. And sure, it wasn’t Larry’s fault that Logan still didn’t have much movement in his right hand, but he had not done anything to help, and that was just as bad in Logan’s eyes.

And then, as Remus had mentioned on their first day, they began the unit on Shakespeare. Remus immediately began getting frustrated in English class, taking longer to finish quizzes, groaning at the sub-par grades he was achieving. Logan tried his best to ignore it, but eventually, he had to step in.

“Remus, you’re overthinking this sonnet. You can take it nearly at face value and comprehend the meaning.” Logan had finished his sonnet evaluation worksheet after about five minutes, and Remus had been glaring at his for nearly twenty minutes now.

“I just.. don’t get it. What the hell is ‘summer’s lease’?”

“Well, what is a lease?”

“It’s basically when you like, temporarily own something right? Like renting? What the hell is summer renting?”

“What does summer do only temporarily?”

“I don’t know? Exist, I guess?”

“So, it would stand to reason that summer’s lease would be…?”

“The.. time it temporarily exists? So it’s just saying summer isn’t long enough?” Logan gave him a small smile, nodding.

“Precisely.”

“Why couldn’t he just say that? ” Remus groaned, jotting down the answer. “Are you busy tonight?” Logan raised an eyebrow, but shrugged.

“Not really, no.”

“Want to come over? I think Roman is having a weekend sleepover thing, but I really need someone who isn’t going to be singing Next to Normal songs to spend time with or I’m gonna jump in front of a moving train, which means I’ll have to walk to a train station, because otherwise, they’ll tow dad’s car, and it’s so COLD outside right now, I hate winter, so I’ll probably freeze to death before I even make it to the nearest train station, and I-”

“Did you know Grasshoppers have ears on their stomachs? One on each side of the first abdominal segment, directly beneath the wings.” Logan said nonchalantly, pretending to not notice the way Remus took a deep breath before replying,

“What?” Logan laughed, slightly too loud in the small classroom, before nodding at Remus

“I would love to attend, Remus. So long as it isn’t going to cause a problem with your parents, or the other.. guests involved.”

“Nah, they’ll be fine with it. See you at like five, then?” Logan nodded, going back to staring into space while Remus went back to glaring at his paper.

At 5 PM, Logan stood outside the Sander’s house, looking blankly at the “For Sale” Sign in the front yard. They were leaving? What was the point of having this “Sleepover” if they were planning on abandoning their group anyway? He heard Remus’ voice call to him from the porch.

“Specs! Come on in! We only bite with your explicit consent!” Logan turned from the sign to smirk at the teen in front of him. Remus must have seen what Logan was looking at. “Don’t worry, we aren’t going to screw up the house tonight. Dad would probably kill us.”

“I was unaware you were moving, where will you be going?” Remus looked only slightly surprised.

“Oh! I can’t believe you haven’t heard Roman bitching about it. We’re just moving across town, like ten blocks over. Dad wanted somewhere that had room for studios and offices and stuff, and this place only has one guest room.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why is Roman complaining if you’re only moving ten blocks away? You won’t even need to transfer schools.” Remus shook his head.

“Because he’s dramatic? He drew the short straw so He doesn’t get the attic room in the new place and he’s bummed about it. It has this massive bay window thing that turns into a skylight.” Remus grinned. “And it has an ensuite.” Roman groaned as the two walked into the living room.

“Are you telling even MORE people about how I was SLIGHTED- Oh, Hi Logan,” Roman immediately stopped talking in his standard dramatic yell in favor of a small, more reserved voice, turning away quickly from them. Elliot coughed, and Kai was patting their back with a grin.

“Hey, Lo! We didn’t know you were coming!” Kai was still rubbing Elliot’s back, and they were still bent over, body shaking in what appeared to be a quite serious coughing fit.

“Are they… alright?” Logan was mildly concerned. “They seem to be having trouble breathing.” As if on cue, Elliot wheezed, in what almost sounded like laughter.

“They’re fine, just swallowed something wrong, don’t worry.” Kai’s grin seemed out of place still, but Logan nodded.

“Alright. Well, I am in attendance because Remus invited me. I didn’t mean to -er- interrupt.” Roman had laid his head in his hands, and Elliot had finally sat up, tears streaming down their face. Remus chuckled and pulled Logan towards the stairs.

“Come on, Lo. I want to work on some of the English work before we have to endure them for the night.” Logan, grateful to be pulled away from the nonsense that was occurring in the living room, nodded.

“Oh, okay!” They made it up the stairs and into Remus’s room, which was far neater than Logan expected. It wasn’t spotless by any means, but it was definitely cleaner than Logan’s room.

“I am so sorry for him, he’s such a nightmare.” Remus laughed, dropping down onto his bed with an unceremonious ‘oof’.

“Who, Kai? He seemed a little too amused at Elliot’s coughing, but I wouldn’t call him a nightmare…” Remus looked at Logan incredulously.

“What? I meant Roman.” Logan was confused.

“What did Roman do? I mean, I think I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve always suspected Roman didn’t particularly like me. I don’t mind it, so long as he is civil.” Remus’s mouth was hanging open.

“You have got to be kidding.”

“Kidding about what?”

“Never mind.” Remus shook his head, mumbling something akin to ‘useless gays, the lot of them’ under his breath before pulling out his English textbook. “Please teach me the ways of the bard before I spontaneously combust.”

#logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #sympathetic remus #roman is a useless gay #Logan is a punk #and a useless gay #remus is done with their shit #swearing #discussions of fighting #kai from cartoon therapy #elliot from cartoon therapy #punk au #eventual logince #if these idiots ever figure it out #Larry is Logans brother #mentions of parental abuse

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 5 years ago

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Another self-indulgent fan-fic, this time with Blob and Pyro drinking, fighting, talking, and bonding over bullying a teenager.

This was an attempt to give Blob a little more depth beyond just the crass asshole of the Brotherhood, and show that he’s got some feelings, too. I also wanted to deal with some stuff with Pyro that Marauders hasn’t really gotten into, especially his death and relationship with the rest of the Brotherhood. There’s also some discussion of Pyro/Avalanche. I will forever headcanon original Pyro as a closeted gay man, who had a kind of undefined friends with benefits thing going on with Avalanche (I don’t care how many fantasy Jean Greys he kisses in Marauders), and who still feels uncomfortable being open about it, even if attitudes have changed somewhat.

Warnings for - Very nasty language, some body-shaming from Pyro, some discussion of homophobia. Blob says some things that maybe aren’t quite homophobic, but kind of insensitive. Behind a read-more, because it wound up being long.

Pyro was absolutely not nervous when he knocked on the door of the small habitat building nestled just at the edge of the Krakoan jungle. It was a nice spot, with one window offering a view of the beach, but the trees providing a bit of protection from tropical storms. There was a little garden plot to one side, so neatly and delicately arranged that he wondered if the man he was there to see had a tidier room-mate.

He wasn’t nervous. And he hadn’t been putting this off, he’d just been busy. He’d fallen in with a whole new team, after all, who had accepted him with a surprising amount of tolerance, and he was spending most of his time having high-seas adventures. Not much time on Krakoa itself, to drop in on an old….friend? Acquaintance? Former team-mate who could snap his spine in half if he happened to be in a foul mood? Pyro wasn’t sure exactly where he stood with any of them now. But he wasn’t nervous. Sod that.

The door swung open, the view inside immediately blocked by the massive fleshy mountain that was Frederick J. Dukes, the immovable object.

“Hey Fred. I brought booze.” Pyro held up the wine bottle like a peace offering between them. It was entirely possible he was about to get his face bashed in, or possibly smother to death under Blob’s sizable buttocks. And sure, he’d get resurrected, but he wasn’t keen to go through all that unpleasantness.

“Aww, hey matchstick! Get in here!” Blob grinned and swung an arm around him, practically clobbering him forward into the living room. “Where ya been?”

“Um….dead, mostly. Yah know,” Pyro quipped, not willing to admit to the relief that was flooding into his chest. Because he hadn’t been nervous. He had just been…curious….to see where he stood with the mutants who had been his team-mates for years. Just wanted to catch up and see how they were.

(To see if they all hated him.)

“Haw, haw, yeah, don’t I know it. You shoulda seen Avalanche cryin’ into his beer over that,” Blob guffawed, pulling him in close and hugging him against his side. Pyro could smell body odor and coconut oil.

“He cried, huh?” He murmured, his mouth muffled against pillowy flesh.

“Blubbered like a damn baby.” Fred released him so that he could step back and gasp air.

“What’d you do to your face, man? You going emo on me, now? C’mon, buck up. You only died the one time. Not like those X-Men, they got a whole revolving door thing going.”

“It’s not emo,” Pyro protested, running his hand over the skull tattoo covering most of his face. “It’s ‘cause I’m a pirate. I’m runnin’ round with the Marauders. We’re wrecking ships and stealing supplies, it’s a blast.”

Blob scoffed. “You’re running around with X-Men, matchstick. You’re basically an X-Man, now.”

“The hell I am!” Now Pyro really felt insulted. “I’m not wearing an X anywhere. We’re the Marauders, not the X-Marauders or whatever. We’re pirates, doin’ pirate things! Like fighting the military and helping mutant kids get to Krakoa – “ Except that wasn’t exactly what pirates did, was it? That was more of a hero-type deal. “-and sinking ships –“ and delivering medicine to people that needed it around that globe, but Pyro wasn’t going to mention that. Even if it did give him a bit of a warm glow in his chest to be helping the sick and desperate. He knew what it was like to be sick and desperate.

“Everyone on that ship is a goody-two shoes X-Man!” Blob sneered. “Storm, that phasing girl, Ice-nerd.”

“Bishop’s pretty cool,” Pyro felt the need to interject. The man could fight, and he respected that. He was also extremely good looking, something Pyro tried to not notice.

“Still an X-Man. You’re one a them now. I shoulda expected it after the way you died.” Blob stepped back from him, shaking his head. And oh, there it was.

It didn’t seem quite fair. Pyro couldn’t even remember what he’d done. What he’d been thinking at the time.

“I mean….does it really matter?” He tried. “We’re all one big happy mutant family on Krakoa now. Xavier and Magneto getting all chummy. Seems like the X-Men and the Brotherhood don’t even exist anymore.”

“Seems ta me like there’s a bunch of X-Teams and no Brotherhood. They split up all us nasty “bad” mutants and stuck them on teams with the wussy good guys ta keep us in line. Except when they need their dirty work done, then they’ll send out those of us with criminal records. I dunno who’s really running the show on Krakoa, but it ain’t the Brotherhood.” Blob slumped down on his sofa, but gestured to Pyro to sit in one of the chairs. At least he wasn’t being thrown out.

“Guess you might be right there,” he mused, tossing himself down sideways across the chair, both legs hanging over one arm. The X-Men were in an awful lot of positions of power, even with the attempts to balance the Council. And they seemed to dominate most of the island’s strike teams.

“I guess there are more of them than there are of us.”

“Guess running a school for mutant kids is better recruitment strategy than a creepy dude in a metal helmet that’ll throw his own people under the bus in a heartbeat. Did I ever tell ya about how he chucked an explosive at me? And that was back he was tryin’ to recruit me!”

“Many times, Freddie,” Pyro was a little relieved that the conversation was meandering away from his own status – X-Man, Brotherhood member, Krakoan or whatever the hell he now was. He wasn’t sure himself.

“Wine?” He held out the bottle again. Blob swiped it and held it up between two fingers with another guffaw.

“What is this, matchstick, booze for ants? That ain’t gonna be thimbleful for me.”

“Oh, but this is a very special bottle, Freddie.” Pyro took the bottle back. “Have ya got a bucket? I’m gonna be like Christ with the loaves and fishes here.”

“Doncha mean water into wine? That was one of the miracles, right?” Blob came back with a massive stew pot.

“Yeah, but there’s no water involved here. Watch and marvel!” He upended the bottle with a dramatic flourish. Moments later, Blob’s mouth dropped open as the stew pot was half-way filled, and the bottle showed no signs of emptying.

“Ain’t that a hell of a trick. What’s the deal, Aussie? Some kind of mystical Outback dream-time thing?”

“Nah, just a bribe from a wizard. Bottomless bottle. Never runs out.” Technically, Dr. Strange had offered the gift as a gesture to the entire island. But technically didn’t matter, because Strange had given the bottle directly to him, which meant it was basically his. He certainly wasn’t going to hand it over to the Council to use in their fancy-pants secret meetings. Better to keep it among the people, right? Pyro was willing to share. A bit.

“Well, tell Harry Potter thanks. That’s one hell of a gift.”

“Who?”

“C’mon, don’t fuck with me. You haven’t been dead that long.”

“True,” Pyro grinned. But being dead was certainly a convenient excuse for bowing out of whatever must-see pop culture phenomenon he was supposed to be familiar with. “Sorry mate, I was dead at the time,” usually shut people up.

Blob took the full bucket, downed half in one gulp, and held it out again for more. Pyro took a moment to fill his own glass to the brim before pouring again.

“Damn, that’s good stuff. Usually bulk wine is pretty crappy.” Fred licked his lips in appreciation.

“I wouldn’t know the difference,” Pyro shrugged. He’d gotten invited to a few fancy parties, way back in the day when he was journalist/writer St. John Allerdyce and “Pyro” didn’t exist. But it hadn’t exactly refined his palate. He’d rather have a full goon bag to himself than a dainty little glass of something aged and expensive.

“Well, we can’t all be sophisticated gourmets,” Blob said airily, swirling the wine around and giving it a sniff. “French grapes, I’d say. Black currant, acai, cherry, and just a hint of chocolate. Probably a ’78 or ’79.” He proceeded to down half the stew-pot again.

“Freddie me lad, you are absolutely full of shit.” Pyro obligingly poured a refill. Maybe he should get some kind of stand for the bottle, or he’d be doing this all night.

“I aim to be full of wine, so keep pouring, toothpick,” Blob laughed. They lapsed into a moment of comfortable silence while Pyro finally had a chance to drain his own glass.

“So how’s it feel to be back in the land of the living?” Blob ventured. “Ya know they cured that Virus just a few months after you croaked. Ain’t that a kick in the teeth?”

“I wasn’t gonna last a few months at that point. I wasn’t gonna last even a few days, so…whatever.” Pyro shrugged. He still couldn’t remember the moment of his death, but he remembered some of the time leading up to it, feeling incredibly frail, and wondering every night if he would wake up in the morning. Is it gonna be tonight? Today? Will I just drop dead trying to walk down the street? Even if some miracle cure had appeared, he suspected he would have been too far gone at that point.

“It’s just good to be healthy again,” he added. And wasn’t that the truth. Just walking around, breathing the ocean air freely and without pain had been heavenly. He’d made it a point to get laid the first time the Marauders spent the night in Taipei – hadn’t seen any of that action for months before his death. He didn’t want to touch anyone after the diagnosis (he was a selfish bastard, but not so selfish as to potentially spread the disease), and pretty soon pain and fatigue had meant his cock was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Yeah, I bet. Ya made a real spectacular flame-out at the end, there,” Blob said, and there was something left hanging in the air at the end of that sentence. What Pyro might have called a “pregnant pause,” in one of his novels. He gulped down another large swallow of wine.

“Yeah that was….I dunno. I dunno what I was thinking, exactly.” He hadn’t been able to believe it when Mystique showed him the headlines. Sure he’d tried to help her save her shitty racist spawn Graydon Creed (a spectacular failure, thanks to X-Factor), but it had still been him playing Follow the Leader, trusting Mystique to know the right thing to do. Apparently he’d made that final decision completely on his own – turning on his comrades to save the man they’d once tried to assassinate. He didn’t like to look at the articles – all splashed with that one famous picture of Kelly cradling his dead body. It made him feel sick to look at it.

Blob just grunted in response, and the silence became uncomfortable. Pyro sighed.

“All right, you want me to say it? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for turning on you guys. I can’t say I’m sorry for protecting Kelly. I guess I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, and I’ll stand by that. But I’m sorry for going against you guys. And especially for killing Post.” Blob snorted, but held the stewpot out for more wine.

“You were gettin’ real soft near the end there, toothpick. Can’t completely blame ya, I guess. You were starin’ death right in the face, and Legacy was probably eating away at your brain. Avalanche said you seemed half-delirious near the end, whenever he went to see ya.”

“Maybe I was.” Time had gotten fuzzy back then – long patches of confused dream-like haze, punctuated by sharp, painful clarity. Dominic would be there one moment and gone the next, conversations evaporating mid-sentence. He’d lay down for a moment in the morning and wake up in the evening two days later.

“It was just all starting to seem a bit pointless, ya know?” He continued after another swig of wine. “All that violence….well, I won’t deny it was fun. I don’t need an excuse to start a fight. But it was also for a cause, right? And things just kept getting worse no matter what we did. I guess I just thought….if I could change the guy’s mind, maybe things would be different.”

“Well, ya did change his mind, I’ll give you that. Too bad he got himself killed right after that,” Fred smirked.

“Yeah. That’s the real kick in the teeth. More than dying before the cure, really. Bloody pointless.” Pyro poured again.

“I reckon everyone was pissed at me, yeah?” At least the wine was giving him the courage to ask certain questions.

“Heh, yer lucky you croaked when ya did, really.” Blob grinned. It was not a nice grin. “I woulda snapped you in half for Post, invalid or no. Lady Mastermind wasn’t real pleased, either. But you ain’t really here to ask about how I felt, are ya? You wanna know whether yer boyfriend is pissed at ya.”

Pyro was suddenly sitting up very straight, tension running up and down his spine.

“The fuck did you say?” he snapped.

“Oh, come off it, man. Don’t act like I’m stupid! I know you had this whole ‘don’t ask, don’t tell thing’ going on back in the day, but I figured it out. We all did.”

“I don’t know what you’re blathering on about, mate,” Pyro said, each word coldly annunciated. The tension from his spine was spooling tight in his mid-section. “You’ve been watching too many soap operas.”

“You’re the one that watches that crap, matchstick. I gotta listen to you talk about ‘Home and Away’ every time you get smashed. But don’t change the fucking subject.”

“What subject? Some made-up bullshit you imagined in your head?” Pyro’s hands were clenched tight around the glass. Some logical part of his mind wondered why he was even making a fuss about this. Times had changed a great deal in the years that he’d been floating in a void of nonexistence. Iceman was openly gay, Mystique referred to Destiny as her wife, and no one batted an eye.

But still. When Pyro was growing up, you didn’t say it. You didn’t dare say it, because it would it ruin you, at best, and possibly get you killed, at worst. It had been something he’d kept locked up tight in his chest, even when he was boldly and proudly “coming out” as a mutant. And what he’d shared with Dominic over the years, secret little intimate moments slipped under the surface of their public friendship, had always rested on a foundation of silence. They didn’t talk about what they did. Didn’t even really acknowledge it to each other or try to define it. It was their own special, private thing, and it was meant to remain unspoken.

And now, here was Fred J. Dukes putting his fat, clumsy, grubby hands all over it, like a toddler smearing chocolate on a cashmere sweater.

“Quit bein’ so stubborn about it,” Blob continued. “Ya think I’m stupid, that I couldn’t figure it out? You guys were always slipping off together, locking your door. Fuck man, I heard you two dumbshits in the shower together a couple of times when we were doing that Freedom Force thing. My room was right next door, you know. Haw!” His laughter was an ugly sound.

“What, were you getting off on it?” Pyro snarled. “Were you alone in your room jerking it to us, you fat fuck? Probably the only action you ever see, ain’t it? Assuming you can even find your dick.” He paused, suddenly wishing he could hook the words back into his mouth, because he’d basically just admitted to it, hadn’t he? But he didn’t think he could stop now if he tried, with the anger burning in his chest, a familiar, almost comforting heat.

“No, I was just sick of you both lying about it. Pretending it wasn’t happening, and making the rest of us pretend, too! Acting like we’re all idiots!” Blob was on his feet now, red-faced.

“Well, you never made that very hard, did ya, Freddie?”

“Ya know what?” And Blob had suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder with one meaty hand. “I’m tired of your bullshit!” Then Pyro found himself flung across the room, smashing into the wall and knocking crockery down to shatter on the floor. Maybe he was going to get his spine snapped after all – but the way he felt at the moment he didn’t much care.

“You always act so superior, like you’re sooooo much smarter than me. What, just ‘cause you wrote some crappy books to help lonely women get their panties all moist?! ”

“At least I know how to write. Least I can get a woman wet,” Pyro quipped, while trying to climb to his feet. Hell, Blob had just handed him that one, hadn’t he? There was a blur at the edge of his vision, and suddenly Blob had grabbed the front of his shirt and tossed him again.

“You ain’t smarter than me!” Pyro could hear Blob bellowing through the ringing in his ears. “You and Avalanche always acted like you were better than ol’ Fred Dukes, gangin’ up on me all the time. Well, I danced on both of your graves, didn’t I? I’m glad you died like you did. Mr. Smart Fancy-pants, wasting away to nothing. It was funny!” Blob was towering over him, fists clenched. Pyro raised his wrist and sent a jet of flame up at the man, mentally intensifying it enough to hurt as he darted for the door.

“Augh! Pyro, you asshole,” Blob roared, slapping at the flames on his clothing. They’d keep right on burning if Pyro wanted them to, and he had half a mind to let them. Why not have a pig roast right there on the beach? But in another moment he shook his head and let the fire gutter out. Perhaps a mistake, as Fred charged out through the door.

“Don’t think you’re getting away, you skinny little fucker.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Freddie, just getting myself a little more room,” Pyro said through clenched teeth. “Go ahead and come at me if ya wanna get burned again.”

Apparently Blob did wanna get burned again, because he ran at Pyro, arm raised to swing. Pyro shot out another blast of fire at Dukes as he dove out of his path. Blob tried to duck, but it was hard dodge fire that Pyro could mentally send wherever he pleased. That was one advantage he’d always enjoyed over the fire-producing mutants. This time it singed Blob’s eyebrows and licked at his shoulders. Blob howled.

“Cut that shit out!”

“What, so you can hit me again? Ya know, this is why no one likes you, Blob! You’re always flying off the handle. Gotta turn everything into some big fight. I was tryin’ ta be friendly, coming here- “

“Bullshit! You didn’t come here for me, you came here for news. You wanted to know if your boyfriend hated ya after what you did. You only came to me because I’m the only one here who was with the group when it all went down. The only one let alive, anyway.”

“I came to you ‘cause I wanted to drink with ya, Blob. And you started acting like a dick, like ya always do!” Pyro protested, although he couldn’t quite suppress a guilty twinge. Blob wasn’t entirely wrong…and if Avalanche was alive again, it probably would have taken him even longer to get around to visiting Dukes.

“You’re the one who started getting all hot under the collar when I was just tryin’ ta talk to ya! But I ain’t surprised, I know where I rate! None of you assholes give a shit about me!” Blob charged again. Pyro sent more fire swirling towards him.

“You wanna keep getting singed, Freddie, I could do this all da – oof!” Pyro grunted as Blob ran right through the fire and slammed into him, shoulder first, knocking him back into the well-tended vegetable garden.

“Pyro, you jerk, I worked on that for weeks!”

“Ya knocked me right into it, ya stupid wanker!” Pyro jumped to his feet, brushing ruined squash and pumpkin off his uniform. “I’ve been pulling punches, but if you come at me again, I will absolutely barbeque you, you fat piece of shit. Then you can wait in line for resurrection behind all the people that actually deserve to be alive and breathing right now!”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me gone, and you all alone with your precious Dominic and your new X-Men friends. I know you wouldn’t miss me. Nobody would! Ya know I tried to kill myself, back when I lost my powers? And who was there for me? No one, that’s who!”

“….ya tried to kill yourself?” Pyro paused for a moment. Dropping his guard was a mistake, as Blob charged again and belly-slammed him several feet away. It might have done some damage if he hit a tree, but luckily he just rolled on the soft sand.

“Freddie, wait, what’s this about – “

“It was a fucking nightmare. I had huge folds of skin hanging off my body. I looked like….like melted wax or something. Couldn’t go out. Couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. It hurt just to move. I tried…tried to cut my own throat, and I couldn’t even get through the skin. And none of the Brotherhood lifted a goddamn finger to help me! You had Dominic holdin’ your hand and cryin’ over ya, ya think anyone spared a thought for me?!”

Pyro clambered to his feet, feeling uncomfortable. Angry Blob he was used to. People called Pyro a hothead (and maybe it was just a little bit true), but anger seemed to constantly run under the surface with Fred, coloring every interaction – snide remarks during briefings, playful banter quickly turning into explosive outbursts, laughter that always had a cruel undertone, always at someone else’s expense. But this was new. Fred’s voice was shaky, threatening to crack.

“Freddie, are ya serious? Look mate, I didn’t know. I was – “ Dead, he was about to say. But they were interrupted as a sudden telekinetic force lifted Pyro off his feet, leaving him flailing uselessly in the air.

“The fuck?” Blob slurred. Something was tugging at him, a psychic force attempting to lift him skyward. Attempting, and failing, as he remained solidly on the ground.

“Haw! Who’s tryin’ ta lift me?” he laughed, digging his feet into the sand for good measure. “Ya must be really stupid, whoever you are!”

The pressure around Blob increased, and the sand at his feet flattened as Blob pushed down with his personal gravity field.

“Keep tryin’, Chuckles! That tickles!” Blob yelled.

“Hey, whoever you are? You wanna put me the hell down?” Pyro called out, from a good six feet in the air. “Unless you wanna see me blow chunks all over this beautiful beach.” He’d been tipped partially upside-down, which was really not helping his drunken nausea.

“All right, that’s enough, lad. We’re just here to break it up, and it’s broken up.” Banshee stepped out of the jungle, accompanied by a scowling boy with pink hair that Pyro didn’t recognize.

“Aww, are you the one tryin’ ta lift me off the ground?” Blob cooed nastily. “That’s cute. Nice effort, kiddo, but ya obviously didn’t do your homework. Nothing moves the Blob!”

“I could telekinetically hurl you into the sun, you simple-minded tub of lard,” the boy snapped. “I’m only holding back because of Krakoan rules. But by all means, feel free to try my patience.”

“Try my patience?” Pyro repeated incredulously. “Hey Freddie, this kid thinks he’s Magneto or something. Simmer down, junior.” Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to be mocking the mutant who was telekinetically holding him suspended in the air, but booze had ruined Pyro’s already less-than-stellar decision making skills.

“It’s Kid Omega,” the boy corrected, and whatever he wanted to say next was drowned out by Pyro and Blob’s obnoxious, jeering laughter.

“Kid Omega, you’ve gotta be bloody kidding me! That’s so adorable!” Pyro stopped laughing as the boy bounced him up and down in the air a few times. “Seriously, ya don’t wanna do that. I’m gonna – “ he interrupted himself by spewing wine and stomach fluids all over the ground below him.

“Gross, dude,” Blob said casually.

“Listen, we’re here because you boys are causing a public disturbance,” Banshee said, hands on his hips. “Remember, you’re expected to follow certain rules and keep the peace if you wanna stay on Krakoa. Pyro, I thought you might be better than this since you joined Kate’s crew, but I guess you’re still just as dumb and violent as always. I don’t think Storm’ll be pleased to hear about this.”

“Aww, c’mon mate, “ Pyro sputtered, still trying to spit the taste of bile and sour grapes out of his mouth. The wine wasn’t nearly as good coming back up, and his stomach was roiling. “It was just a little scuffle that got outta hand. We weren’t hurting anyone. ‘Cept each other.”

“Oooooh, you’re in trouble now, Pyro! Banshee’s gonna tell on you,” Blob drawled. “Then they might kick you out of their little heroes club.”

“Piss off, Freddie.” Pyro would never, ever admit to that particular fear, buried deep under a shit-ton of apathy and forced bravado. He honestly kind of liked the Marauder crew, despite having tangled with most of them in the past (although in some respects, he really liked them more because of that.) He knew he had the reputation of being the loose cannon of the group, given how frequently he was reminded not to kill (as if Sabretooth’s horrific fate wasn’t enough of a deterrent), but he was following all their bloody rules, wasn’t he? He wasn’t keen on getting thrown out. He’d go stir crazy on the island without a way to burn off all his energy with “a bit of the old ultraviolence.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook either, Blob,” Banshee said sternly.

“Awww, whattaya gonna do? Use Lady Mastermind to force me to be a good boy?” This apparently struck a nerve, as Banshee blanched for a moment. He’d have to ask Blob about that later.

“Maybe we should, if that’s what it takes for morons like you to behave yourselves,” said the kid snidely. “No wonder the cause of mutant rights never got anywhere before if it was championed by you two losers.”

“Hey, I ain’t gonna listen to any lip from some brat that hasn’t even grown pubes yet,” Blob snarled. “I was out busting my ass for mutant rights while you were getting conceived behind a bowling alley at 3 AM!”

Pyro was about to chime in with something equally nasty, when suddenly his entire world shifted. The beach disappeared, and he was floating with the vastness of space stretched out before him. Stars and planets that he had never seen, that he couldn’t even conceive of, glittered in impossible colors against the darkness, and it would have been extremely cool, if not for two unfortunate facts. One – he couldn’t breathe, and his lungs spasmed and choked in a horribly familiar way when he tried. Two – it was cold. It soaked through his skin, into his bones, seeming to devour him from the inside.

And then, just as suddenly, he was back on the island, still shivering in the tropical heat, taking deep breaths of the moist air scented with the ocean, the faint perfume of nearby flowers, and the strong scent of sour wine. He’d been dropped onto the sand, and was lying in his own vomit. Well, he’d always said it wasn’t a good night if you didn’t puke on yourself at some point.

“Whoa, that was a hell of a thing,” Blob stammered, still shaking as Pyro sat up.

“All right, boyo, that’s enough. I’m not sure what you did, but I’m sure they deserved it,” Banshee said briskly, putting a hand on Kid Omega’s shoulder.

“I made a universe in my own mind, you know. And I can put people there anytime. So don’t piss me off,” the boy said, staring daggers at Blob.

“Yeah, yeah, nice tricks, pink hair,” Blob waved his hand dismissively, quickly recovered from the ordeal. “I used to work with a guy who can do illusions. You’re nothing I ain’t seen before.”

“I’m Omega level!” the boy snapped, as Banshee just shook his head.

“i’M oMeGa LeVeL!” Blob mocked, and Pyro couldn’t stop himself from snickering.

“Forget it, lad, they’re not worth it. They’re just drunk and stupid. Very, very stupid, “ Banshee said. “I’m giving you idiots your one warning, got it? If I have to come back out here, you’re gonna spend the night in the drunk tank – which is NOT built for comfort – and spend all day doin’ community service tomorrow. There’s bathrooms to be cleaned, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, message received. We’ll be good,” Pyro said. He almost wanted to apologize, it was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words in front of that posturing little brat. Banshee he could respect, but not this pissant half his age that thought he was the next Big Thing for mutantkind. There was always one of them running around.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna keep junior here up past his bedtime,” Blob added. “He’s obviously already cranky.”

“Shut it, or I’ll let him put your minds through a telepathic blender,” Banshee snapped, but he grabbed the boy by the arm, and walked off into the jungle. There was a quiet moment, while Pyro staggered none too steadily around, gathering up the wine bottle and their respective glasses (or pots), then collapsed against Blob’s side. He needed something to wash the taste of stomach acid out of his mouth. And besides, throwing up meant he was entitled to more – it was like hitting the reset button on intoxication, right? He could feel Blob quivering against him, and realized after a moment that the man was shaking with laughter.

“Can….can you believe that little twerp,” Blob gasped. “Strutting around with his boots and leather jacket like he’s hot shit. Oooo, look at me, I’m Kid Omega!”

“I think pink hair is a substitute for having a personality!” Pyro chimed in. “Probably jerks off to…..I dunno, what are kids into these days? Is it still Harry Potter? NSYNC?”

“Fortnite? I think?”

“What the fuck is Fortnite?” Blob shrugged in response.

“Christ, Freddie, we really are over the hill.” Pyro shook his head and filled Blob’s stew-pot to the brim.

“Well, you ain’t. You missed some years an’ I’m pretty sure they brought you back younger. You’re missing some lines there.”

“Missing scars, too.” Pyro stretched his arms out in front of him, as if he could see through the spandex. Underneath, they were disturbingly smooth, no trace of the marks life had left on him. Like Blob’s skin, which was almost impossible to pierce. But he probably had scars hidden somewhere.

“Hey, Freddie.”

“Yeah, string bean?”

“About that whole….suicide thing. What you said earlier. You wanna talk about it?” Blob shifted against him.

“Nah, it…it wasn’t really such a big thing. Just went through a rough patch, is all. You know me, I can bounce back from anything. That’s why I made it so long. I was kicking up shit way back in the day, and I’m still kicking now. No need to resurrect the Blob,” he finished proudly.

“Yeah, you got me there. Me, and a lot of others.”

“Too many.” Blob shook his head. “I been waiting forever for Unus to come back, but seems like he’s low on the list. Most of us are. Same old story.”

“Yeah.” Pyro had asked Mystique when Avalanche’s turn would come, but she couldn’t give him a clear answer – given that Destiny hadn’t been resurrected yet, it seemed like she didn’t have a huge amount of power over those decisions, despite her position on the Council. Would former terrorist criminals come before or after the millions of mutants that had died at Genosha? Meanwhile other Council members’ family and friends got pushed to the front of the line, and Magneto couldn’t be bothered to stand up for people like Avalanche and Unus and the old Mastermind – but he’d still brought back several of his Acolytes (even Fabian Cortez, who, according to what Frezny had told him over a couple of drinks, was the absolute worst.) Of course Magneto would bring back fanatics that worshiped the ground he walked on. He couldn’t completely quiet the fear that lingered in the back of his mind – that this whole thing would eventually fall apart, before certain people came back.

“I guess I was lucky to be a guinea pig after all, otherwise I’d probably be at the back of the line somewhere.”

“Fuck it, man, it’s all political. They just bring back their people, or the ones they think’ll be useful. I’m lucky I ain’t croaked,” Blob sighed.

“They’d bring ya back, Freddie. You’re one of a kind. Look, mate, I’m sorry about what I said. That no one likes ya. It’s not true. I like ya. Toad likes ya. Dom liked ya, even though you picked fights all the time. I’m glad you’re here and not dead.” Pyro wasn’t sure why he was being so generous after some of the crap that Fred had said, but to hell with it. He was probably feeling soft ‘cause of the whole “suicide” thing. And when it came down to it, he didn’t have that many friends – and his very closest one was still dead. May as well appreciate the ones that weren’t six feet under.

“Only picked fights ‘cause you guys were always looking down on me, acting like your powers were so much better,” Blob grumbled.

“We only did that because you were always throwing your weight around, pretendin’ you were too good to follow Mystique’s orders, bein’ nasty to everyone – “ Pyro abruptly stopped, biting his tongue. This wasn’t where he wanted this conversation to go, and he was still just sober enough to remember Banshee’s threat if another fight broke out. He sighed deeply, then poured Fred another generous serving of wine.

“Fuck, Fred, let’s not do this. We’ve been through some shit together, yeah? We all acted like dicks sometimes back in the day, but it doesn’t really matter now. I’m sorry I said you were a fat piece of shit.”

“Well, I kinda am, ain’t I?”

“If you’re a fat piece of shit, I’m a skinny piece of shit. None of us are exactly saints in the Brotherhood.”

“You’re a saint. It’s right in your name.” Blob poked at him clumsily.

“Yeah, real ironic, that. Gran wanted a good Christian name so I’d be good Christian lad. Buckley’s chance of that.”

“You get real Aussie when you’re drunk, ya know that. Can’t barely understand ya.” Blob was starting to slur now, having gone through the equivalent of several vats of wine at this point. “But hey man, I’m sorry I said that I was glad you died. I mean, I was glad right when it happened. I was mad at you ‘cause of Post. But it was a shitty way to go, wasting away like that. You didn’t deserve that. Gettin’ eaten up inside by your own power. I remember when that happened to Unus. He…he died right in my arms, man.” Blob’s voice sounded shaky again. Pyro reached up and patted his side – somewhere below the armpit, since he couldn’t reach huge man’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Freddie. I’m sure Unus didn’t deserve that, either.” Pyro had never met the force-field wielding mutant, but he’d heard stories when Blob was feeling especially drunk and sentimental. But he didn’t think he’d ever seen this kind of raw vulnerability from Fred J Dukes before. He’d blame the wine – stupid wizard probably cursed it with a sadness spell or something. Get the mutants to drop their guard by making them all soppy.

“He sure as hell didn’t.” Blob actually reached up and rubbed his forearm over his eyes, and Pryo diplomatically pretended not to notice. “I miss him, man. He was a real stand-up guy, you know, for a criminal piece of garbage, and he didn’t let anyone push him around. Don’t think I’ve ever clicked with anyone like him. And now they’re danglin’ this resurrection thing in front of us, and who knows if they’ll ever get around to him? Must be worse for you, with Dominic, right man?”

“I sure as fuck miss him,” Pyro admitted, downing another glass. “He’s my best mate.”

“Hey look, man, what I said earlier, I wasn’t tryin’ ta –“

“Freddie, I really don’t wanna talk about it.” Pyro abruptly found himself pinned as Blob swung an arm down around him, holding him pressed against his side. “What the hell, Freddie, are you tryin’ ta flirt, now?”

“No man, just listen. Listen, listen man, shhh, listen,” Blob said in what he probably thought was a soothing whisper, while Pyro pushed uselessly against him. “I don’t wanna start another fight, but I got stuff I wanna say. I wasn’t tryin’ ta be a jerk before, okay? When I brought it up. I just wanted to say that, you know….we knew. We ain’t that dumb, and you guys weren’t that slick. We figured out you were – “

“Don’t say it, okay?” Pyro snapped.

“Fine, but dude. Listen. We don’t care. That’s the important thing here. I mean, we probably cared a little back in the day. I admit I made some pretty shitty jokes, but, you know, times were different. I mean, ‘homo’ was the worst thing you could be back when I was growin’ up. Until mutants started becoming a thing, of course.”

“Yeah, same here,” Pyro muttered. Apparently this conversation was happening whether he liked it or not. He downed more wine to try to stop his insides from twisting up.

“But everything’s like, different now. Most people don’t give a shit anymore. Including most of us in the Brotherhood. I mean, it was stupid to ever care in the first place. We’re already a group of outcast criminals, and we’re gonna judge you guys for wanting to bang each other? It’s cool if you don’t wanna make out in public or get married or anything, but you don’t haveta sneak around anymore. I’m cool with it, Toad’s cool with it. I think ‘Tazia had you figured for gay even before Avalanche came back. ‘Cause you weren’t drooling over her like Toad an me.”

“She was a perceptive one.” Pyro wondered for a moment whatever had happened to Eileen. She had been close-mouthed about her past – and Pyro could respect that – but extremely intelligent, and fun to talk to.

“The point is, it’s a brave new world and all that. Dudes are marrying each other, chicks are marrying each other. There’s a whole show starring drag queens that’s run for like, 10 years or something. It’s all mainstream now. I mean, I still don’t get it. Making out with another dude sounds gross to me. But I ain’t got no problem with other people doing it.”

“That’s real decent of you, Fred,” Pyro said, and he wasn’t totally sure if he was being sarcastic. This was a surprisingly heartfelt comment coming from Dukes. “You spend a lot of time writin’ that speech up?”

“I’m tryin’ ta be nice here, okay, matchstick? And I’m just sick of you pretendin’ ta be straight, an’ me havin’ to pretend I don’t know.” He trailed off, and gulped down his pot of wine, finally releasing Pyro from his grip.

“Fair ‘nuff,” Pryo conceded. Even though actually dragging all this out into the open felt horribly uncomfortable. Exposed. “Don’t expect me to do some big ‘coming out,’ thing or wear a rainbow or any of that crap, though. I’m not into that. My private life is my private life, right? I’ll just….stop trying so hard to hide it, you know?”

He’d already started to relax his guard a little in front of the Marauders, even picking up a guy at one of the bars that Iceman always dragged them to – although he’d waited until Storm and Bishop had left for the night, and Kate and Iceman seemed too drunk to notice. Iceman seemed to think Pyro was straight, as he’d asked him, with a mix of nervousness and defiance, if he “minded” the first night they went to a gay bar. That probably would have been the time to say it, if Pyro was a little braver, but instead he’d just shrugged and said, “No worries,” like a good tolerant fellow. Of course they wouldn’t care. For all he knew, maybe none of them were straight. He’d seen Kate give sideways glances to girls, Storm and Calisto seemed to have some chemistry between them, Bishop never seemed to mind men hitting on him at clubs. But still. A literal lifetime ago, he’d been afraid of getting his teeth kicked in, or worse. Things were different now, but actually coming out and saying it….it was not so much baring his chest, more like stripping completely naked and handing the other person a knife.

“Hey, fine. Do what ya want. But I’m still gonna make fun of you and Dom if you get all lovey-dovey in front of us. Not because it’s gay, just because I hate that hearts and flowers crap.”

“I would expect nothing less, Blobbo.” Pryo took another long drink of wine, refilled his glass and downed it again, until the tension eased out of his spine.

He supposed it had been stupid to assume that no one noticed. Everyone living in close quarters, both in Brotherhood safehouses and government facilities (not to mention prison). They’d all known. Had they gossiped about him? Laughed behind his back? Been disgusted?

But then, Toad and Phantazia had both hovered over him protectively in the first stages of his illness, when they were all on Empyrean’s private island together. Toad had even talked about how glad he was that Avalanche could be “there for him,” and wow, there was probably a coded message that Pyro had been too dense at the time to pick up on. Mystique was certainly not one to judge, and she’d figured him out ages ago. And if Fred Dukes, of all people, was accepting, then…well, it was probably okay, wasn’t it?

“Hey, matchstick.”

“Yeah, Freddie?”

“You and Dom. Who tops? Be honest, ‘cause I got money riding on this.”

“Shit, Freddie, I gotta be way drunker for this conversation.” And he poured again. The bottle continued to oblige.

When he opened his eyes a crack, the sun pierced right through to stab into his brain. Pyro groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again, bringing one arm up clumsily to better block out the light. He felt like utter shit, and that realization caused a sharp spike of alarm in his chest.

Sick. I’m sick again.

Or maybe he’d always been sick. Because it was all too good to be true, wasn’t it? Dying like a hero, coming back to life on this magical island where mutants from all sides of the political divide were having nonstop raves and orgies, getting to sail around and play pirate with the X-Men, who accepted him as a team-mate without question. How could that possibly be real? Wasn’t it more likely that this was all just the fever dream of a dying man, still lingering comatose in a hospital somewhere?

Except Pyro realized in a moment that he was lying on sand, with ocean waves creating a comforting rhythm just at the edge of his hearing. And the pain he was feeling wasn’t quite the same as what the Legacy Virus had done to him. His head was pounding like a drum, he ached all over, and he was fairly certain he wouldn’t get through the morning without barfing at least once – but he could breathe without pain. He sucked in a deep, cool breath and slowly let it out again. No coughing, no burning in his lungs, no constricting weight on his chest.

This wasn’t Legacy, it was a very familiar kind of suffering. One he’d inflicted on himself many times before.

“Heya, toothpick!” Blob’s voice boomed cheerfully in his ear. “Had a little too much last night, huh?”

“Uggghhhhh…..fuck off, Fred,” Pyro mumbled, trying to roll away from the sound of his voice. Moving made his stomach flip-flop, and he stopped for a moment.

“Haw, haw, ya shouldna tried to keep with me, ya scrawny little light-weight,” Blob guffawed, but he didn’t sound as mean as usual. Pyro feel something cool being pressed against his face.

“Here man, drink this and come back to life.” He opened his eyes again, wincing, and accepted the water bottle that Blob was holding out to him.

“Probably gonna take a few of these, Fred,” Pyro said, carefully sitting up, pausing for a moment to swallow saliva and wait for his stomach to hopefully quiet itself. Then he began sipping the water cautiously.

“You’ll probably need a couple of these, too,” Blob offered, slipping him some aspirin.

“Thanks, mate, right neighborly of ya. You’re in a good mood this mornin’ aint ya?” He swallowed the aspirin and gulped down more water.

“Well, I actually was smart enough to drink water last night, so I didn’t totally wreck myself. Plus I never get hit too hard with hang-overs. Got all this extra body mass cushioning me.” He laughed again, slapping at his belly. “Besides, it was hilarious watching you last night. You were trashed, man.”

“Well, I had good company, didn’t I?” Pyro looked around, squinting in the bright morning light. He’d wound up sleeping sprawled out on the sand at the edge of the jungle, just a few feet away from Blob’s hut, thankfully some distance away from the puddle of vomit he’d left the previous night. He remembered that part clearly – the fight, the encounter with Banshee and that little pink-haired shit acting as Krakoa’s rent-a-cops, some of the heartfelt conversation that had followed. And then, the night dissolved into a dream-like haze. Well, they weren’t locked up in the drunk tank, so they must not have gotten in any more trouble.

“Least I know how to handle my liquor,” Blob chuckled. “You wanna shower, toothpick? You smell like something Wolverine rolled in.” Pyro grimaced as he realized that the sour aroma of dried puke and smashed pumpkin was wafting up around him.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

He spent a good twenty minutes in the shower, using Blob’s surprisingly luxurious bath products, then gave his uniform a thorough scrubbing, and fire-dried it. He’d get a clean one from the Marauder later, but he didn’t feel like sitting around smelling like garbage in the meantime.

Vague images kept floating up out of the haze while he washed, little snippets of memories dissolved in wine.

…..Blob putting the stew pot over his head and fastening a curtain around his shoulders, staggering around shouting, “To me, my Brotherhood! Throw yourself under the bus for mutant rights! I’m a self-important jackass and I don’t actually care about any of you, my loyal soldiers!” while Pyro rolled around in the sand laughing hysterically…….

……Pyro splashing into the waves, yelling back at Blob, “I’m gonna do it, you’ll see! I’m gonna fight one a’ them sharks with my bare hands, then fry up it for dinner! We’re gonna have a barbeque right on the beach, yeah.” Blob was bellowing laughter while pulling him back with one hand, so that he was helplessly flailing around, swimming in place. “C’mon mate, I can do it! Aussies aren’t scared of sharks! We’ll kick the shit out of any animal!” “C’mon dumbass, this won’t be nearly so funny if you drown,” and then he was being hauled back up onto the beach……

…..then he was draped across the stomach of a maudlin Blob, who wasn’t even bothering to hide the tears that dripped down his cheeks. “It’s just….what am I if I’m not the Blob, right? You’ve got those stupid books, but what have I got? I mean, I’m nothing without my powers. I tried to make it work back then, I really did. Got my own reality show, got real popular in Japan, but it just wasn’t enough. I was miserable not bein’ the Blob.” Pyro was patting at Blob’s stomach, almost kneading it like a cat, in what he probably had thought was a comforting manner at the time, muttering encouraging nonsense,” Nah, Freddie, c’mon mate, you’ve got lots to offer, you got a big heart and a big personality……”

….then the two of them were chucking the last of Blob’s squash and pumpkins at the trees. For some reason they were both singing “Highway to the Danger Zone” at the top of their lungs……

Pyro just sighed and tried to blink it all away. It wasn’t actually the worst drunk memories he had. At least neither of them had gotten naked. He hoped.

“Hey man, you took your sweet time. You jerking off in there?” Blob said as he emerged, piling eggs and bacon onto a plate and passing it to him. Luckily his stomach had settled a great deal by then.

“Nah, I wouldn’t be so crass, Freddy. I only jerk off in my own shower.”

“Guess it’s not as much fun without Avalanche, huh?” And Blob actually winked at him.

Pyro opened his mouth to snap back at Dukes, to tell him to shut up and mind his own damn business. Then closed it again, because he couldn’t actually detect any malice in the other man’s tone. Not needling him, just…playful joking, in Blob’s own crass way.

Instead, he just shrugged and grinned. “Guess so. Thanks heaps for the food, Freddie. And the bloody aspirin, I really needed that.”

“Well, what can I say, I know my manners. I’m a hospitable guy,” Blob chuckled, sitting down to his own breakfast. “Besides, it’s the least I can do after what you gave me.”

Pyro paused with the fork mid-way up to his mouth, thinking back. What had he given him, besides a whole fuckton of wine?

“’Fraid I don’t quite remember what you’re referring to there,” he said cautiously. Had he promised his services or something? Given up some of the booty he’d stashed from raids with the Marauders? (He didn’t feel at all bad about that, as the captain herself was actively encouraging them to take as much booze and money as they pleased.)

“The wine.” Blob jerked a thumb over to the shelf on the wall, where the bottle sat surrounded by little ornaments, as if occupying a place of honor.

“Oh yeah, well I’m always glad to share – “

“No man, the whole bottle. You gave me the bottle.”

Pyro’s fork slipped out of his hand. Fuck. Fuck! He hadn’t. Surely he hadn’t been so stupid as to give up a priceless treasure like that, just because ol’ Blob had gotten a little weepy last night. Surely not.

“Oh hell, I didn’t really, did I?”

“You did! You insisted.”

And much as he wanted to deny it, there was a memory creeping back into his mind. Himself, holding the bottle up to Fred with a grandiose air, waxing poetic about how he would be Krakoa’s Dionysus, Life of the Party, Keeper of the Mysteries, and the other mutants would frolic around him like the Maenads. Christ, he really was a pretentious sot when he got drunk, wasn’t he? (But hey, he couldn’t help that he’d gone through a pretty heavy Greek mythology phase as a kid. It was just so interesting!)

“I….guess I might remember something like that,” he conceded hesitantly. “But that doesn’t count, does it? You can’t hold me to that! I was trashed out of my mind!”

“Not so trashed that you couldn’t blather on about a bunch of Classical bullshit!” Blob declared. “It was damned funny. And if you think I’m givin’ this bottle back to you, you’ve got another thing coming.” His tone stayed light, but a sharp gleam in his eye suggested the promise of another fight.

“C’mon Freddie, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Look man, I thought this might happen. So I got video evidence. I got a message from Drunk Pyro to Sober Pyro.” He held out his cell phone.

“Fuuuuuck,” Pyro moaned, not even wanting to see. He took a side glance at the bottle, so inviting out in the open. He should just grab it and run. Instead, he heard the sound of his own voice, slurred with wine, Australian accent even thicker than usual so that he was running his words against the backs of one another.

“I, St. John Allerdyce,” the figure on the video stopped to belch, “bein’ of sound mind an’ body, do hereby bequeath this bottle of never-endin’ wine to Frederick J. Dukes, the Blob, forever an’ ever, no take backs! Be’cause…..’cause….he’s my good mate, an’ he needs somethin’ for himself, an’ I’m fulla good will tonight.” The figure was bleary-eyed and staggering, but at least he seemed to be happy, judging by the wide grin stretching his face.

“Fuckin’ hell, Drunk Pyro,” Sober Pyro groaned, laying his head in his hands. That bastard had gotten him into more scrapes than he could count.

“But!” Drunk Pyro continued on the video. “There’s….conditions. One….no….two! Two…two conditions.” He swayed for a moment, seeming to look up at the stars before pulling himself back together. “Condition the first! You gotta share the wine, Freddie. Share it like, like I’ve been…been sharing it. Bring it to all the parties. Pour for….for eeeeveryone.” He made a sweeping gesture and nearly fell over. “Condition the two! You gotta….gotta give me special access, right? I get ta come over and drink as much as I want, any time I want, yeah? No matter what!”

“I accept your conditions,” came Blob’s voice from behind the camera. Drunk Pyro grinned again.

“Then I now pronounce you man and bottle!” He crowed, holding it aloft. “You may kiss the …wait, no, don’t put your mouth directly on it. Everyone’s gotta drink that.”

“Now make it official by singing Waltzing Matilda. That’s Australia’s national anthem, right?” Blob’s voice suggested on the video.

“No, it isn’t, “ said Sober Pyro.

“Yes, mate, you’re exactly right!” exclaimed Drunk Pyro. He made it through one off-key verse and chorus before fumbling the words and collapsing to his knees, laughing.

“Hey man, thanks for this,” said Blob’s voice on the video, as a hand reached out to take the bottle from Drunk Pyro. And Blob actually sounded a bit sincere. “I really appreciate it, ya doing something like this for me.”

“Well, you’re my special mate, right? We’ve been through loads together. And I feel sooo wonderful tonight. I’m fulla…..fulla love for everybody!” Drunk Pyro spread his arms out to the stars. “The world is so bloody beautiful, yeah?”

“Who do you love, Pyro?” Blob asked from behind the camera.

“Everybody! All the little mutants, and even the humans, too! The ones that aren’t too shitty, anyway.”

“Who do you really love?” Blob asked pointedly.

For a moment, Drunk Pyro looked up at the camera in confusion, then he lit up with the nicest smile Pyro had seen on his own face in a long time. It wasn’t cruel or sarcastic, not sloppy drunk or wild with adrenaline. It was the kind of genuine, soft smile he’d described in many novels over the years.

“I love Dominic!” Pyro exclaimed, hugging arms around himself and slumping down against the sand. “I love Dom.”

“Oy, you fucker!” The video switched off abruptly as Sober Pyro made a grab at the cell-phone in Blob’s hand. “How dare you, how fucking dare you pull that shit! Fucking shit-cunt!”

“Hey man, chill out! You gave me the bottle fair and square!” Blob held the phone over his head, while Pyro began trying to clamber up him.

“Forget the bottle, I don’t care! Why would you make me say that! On video, for fucks sake? You lookin’ to blackmail me?”

“No man, no!” Blob plucked Pyro off with his other hand, and deposited him back in his chair. “That’s not what that was about! I ain’t gonna show it to anyone. Here, look, I’m deleting it. Geez.” Blob pushed a couple of buttons in his phone.

“You were tryin’ to make me say it, though, weren’t you? Why would you want me to say that?!” Pyro glowered at him over the table.

“I dunno man, I was loaded, too! I just….thought it would be nice, I guess. I thought maybe….maybe you’d feel a little better if you said it.” Blob looked confused, and again oddly vulnerable. Not mocking or mean.

“You thought I’d feel better? Seriously?” Pyro gave a breathless laugh.

“I mean….yeah, man. It’s like what we talked about last night. You’re so uptight about this shit, but no one cares anymore.”

“Fucking hell, Fred,” Pyro sighed, putting his head in his hands again. Fucking Blob. Fucking Drunk Pyro, spewing everything out into the open.

But….it probably had felt kind of good to say it in the moment, hadn’t it? All open like that? He couldn’t deny, Drunk Pyro had looked beatifically happy when he said those words, his eyes soft and gentle. Perfect for a scene in a romance, even if he was absolutely humiliated to see that expression on his own face. He supposed there was no sense in denying it. He’d said it, after all.

“Don’t spread it around about Dom, okay? I mean, I know what I am. I’ve known for a long time, and I guess I don’t mind people knowing, now that we’re all enlightened these days. But I think Dom’s still working some things out. Or at least he was.”

“Yeah, sure, man, my lips are sealed,” Blob agreed. “So, are we cool?”

“You deleted that video, right?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re gonna give me free wine whenever I want, just like you promised, yeah?”

“Of course! I’m a generous fellow, and I don’t go back on an agreement!” Blob pressed a hand against his chest, proudly.

“Then, yeah. Freddie. We’re cool.”

Notes: Apologies to poor Quentin Quire, he didn’t deserve the crap Blob and Pyro were throwing at him. I have nothing against the character, he just seemed like the kind of arrogant young hot-shot mutant that Pyro and Blob would have no respect for (even if he could absolutely destroy them).

#pyro #st. john allerdyce #blob #fred dukes

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