#in a way you could call it a sequel to yesterday's picture. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

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...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)

Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...

Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize.

Word Count: 10,555

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let me know what you think!

“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.

Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”

You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”

“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen. “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”

You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year.

You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.

When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.

“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.

Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”

“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”

His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person.

"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.

“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.

The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.

Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”

A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.

You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.

You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.

“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.

You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up.

“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.”

“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss.

You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.

It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.

“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.

You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason.

You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned.

Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.

As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.

You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.

Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”

He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.

The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.

With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.

The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.

The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home.

The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.

Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers.

You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.

A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.

“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.

He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.

You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.

You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”

“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”

A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti.

“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.

“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.

You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.

You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight.

“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.

Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.

You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.

"Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?"

You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”

You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle.

“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”

You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”

You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.

You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”

He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.

You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.

You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.

“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.

You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.

He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved.

You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.

He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”

You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”

Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.”

You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?”

“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”

“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.

He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.

You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.

He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.

Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”

Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.

You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.

He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.

You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”

He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”

Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.

It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.

Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy.

He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face.

You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.

You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you.

Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.

You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body.

Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”

You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.

You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."

He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”

His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.

Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.

He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.

Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.

You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.

You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.

"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.

You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.

Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.

You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”

You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.

Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.

With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.

He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”

You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”

You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.

“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.

The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.

He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”

You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. “You’re warm, though, which was nice.”

“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away.

He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”

“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.”

“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.

You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”

He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”

“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”

“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.

“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.

The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.

“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.

“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.

You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”

Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old.

Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.

After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.

“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”

“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.”

You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”

“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs.

“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”

“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.

You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.

He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.

He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”

“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.

The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.

During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.

Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”

He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”

“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.

You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.

He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin.

He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”

You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”

A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure.

“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.

“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.

As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring.

You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.

His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.

“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”

“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”

“So did I.”

You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.

“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss.

An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.

“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.

You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.

“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.

You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs.

You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance.

Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.

Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.

“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”

You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.

You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.

“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”

Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.

“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”

He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”

Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”

You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.

“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”

“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”

The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.

You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”

Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”

He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.

Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.

“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.

He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”

“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.

You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”

“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.”

You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”

He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”

You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”

————-

Thank you to everyone who signed up for my new taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If your name is crossed out, please check your blog settings, I was unable to tag you)

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#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #Ashton irwin smut #Ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #Kindahoping4forever #kh4f fic #Ready For It?#smut #i literally cannot believe i am finally done with this lmao #thank you to anyone who has been holding out hope you would see this tension resolved #i hope i made the wait (for them and for you) worth it #Feedback is appreciated #Fr pls let me know what you think either via ask or your reblog tags #Reblogs are gold and reblogs with tags makes you yourself golden #idk what i'm saying formatting this took forever i really need to start writing shorter pieces or using less italics smh #love y'all thanks for reading

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yoditorian · 4 years ago

Text

The Pancake King

javier peña/reader

yeah i know i said i had no more wip space but then i had a headcanon idea which turned into a note on my phone which turned into,,,,this, which might turn into something else but for now it’s a standalone oneshot that can be read as a sequel to this

main masterlist

word count: 2.5k // warnings: some swears, unnamed boyfriend cheating, food, work stress mentions

This week really, really doesn’t want to give you a break.

The mountain of paperwork waiting for signatures and stamps only seems to get bigger, obscuring half the office from your little corner desk. Every time you have a moment to get through a few of them, you’re pulled into somebody else’s office for a meeting, or someone needs you to double check one of their own forms, or you have to clean up somebody else’s mess. As usual.

And then there’s your life outside of work, if you can even call it that. But your air conditioner is broken and the mailman keeps giving your letters to everyone but you, it seems, and it’s too fucking hot during the day to have to deal with any of this shit.

So you took the day, called in with a fake-cold and promised you’d be back in tomorrow. How much could the office fall apart in just one day? The air conditioning is still broken, but you’d gone out and bought three of the biggest fans you could find. Problem one, sort of solved. The mailman is his own mystery, seemingly vanishing into thin air as soon as you’d spotted him on the sidewalk, at least Connie was in to give you the mail that had gotten mixed up with hers. That, and you’d managed to sneak in some baby cuddles with Olivia. There’s not much you can do about the weather itself, besides wear as little as can be considered publicly decent and pray for the thunderstorm the weather forecast keeps promising is on its way.

Only, as luck always has it, things get worse.

You’d called the boyfriend you left back home, just like you do at the same time every Thursday night. And some chirpy woman had answered, introducing herself as his girlfriend. And that was the last straw.

You can’t even remember what you told her, now. Something about how he could drop the key to your apartment back with your best friend, maybe something along the lines of how he can go fuck himself too. That sounds about right. You’d hung up before she could say anything else.

It’s just you and the wall now, the television not even good enough company to quiet the stress of literally everything in your life. You’re vaguely aware of your stomach rumbling, although you’re not sure you have the energy to get up and root around in your fridge. You ate the last of the leftovers in there yesterday anyway, and you’re pretty sure everything else involves some kind of preparation. Which you really don’t have the energy for. Sleep, sleep can be your dinner tonight.

Javier and Steve get back from the office at the same time Connie comes trotting down the stairs to leave for a shift.

“Can one of you check on them?” She asks, pulling on her cardigan to keep off the evening breeze. There’s something in her tone that has Javier’s brow furrowing even further than it usually is, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of the Murphys.

“Last time we spoke, I thought they were gonna hit me,” Steve raises his eyebrows in disbelief, a little too dramatically, “This one’s on you, Peña.”

He’s off up the stairs before Javier can argue that he probably, definitely, is the last on the list of people you want to see if you’re having a bad day. He’s responsible for half the forms waiting on your desk, seemingly doubled over the course of the day. That, and his comforting skills aren’t exactly legendary. Connie, for all her tact, shrugs apologetically at him before she’s leaving too, and he’s left standing in the hall wondering exactly what it is he’s supposed to do now.

He remembers his bad day, the really bad one, a few months ago. How you turned up on his doorstep with homemade nachos and a smile, exactly what he needed before he even knew it himself. He hears his father in his head, waxing poetic about the way that people comfort others is often the way they like to be comforted. And, honestly, who doesn’t like a good meal when everything feels a little bit against them?

Javier can’t cook, he’s not arrogant enough to pretend that he can make anything off the top of his head. Nor is he certain he has any of the ingredients for anything in the cookbook Steve had bought him as a joke for the Christmas just gone. There is one option though, he just hopes it’s the right one as he starts to pull a frying pan out of the cupboard.

You’re surprised when there’s a knock at your door and you have to struggle out of your blanket for a minute, your ass numb from sitting on the ground for too long. It’s probably only Connie, checking that you’ve eaten. She’ll see right through your lie but you doubt she’ll push it, only remind you to eat breakfast with a stern look that you know she only pulls out for her most difficult patients. You’re not sure when that privilege extended to you.

It’s not Connie.

Javier stands in the light of the hallway, a foil covered plate in his hands, and looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You start to wish you hadn’t worn your blanket like a cape to answer the door.

“I, um-” He can’t seem to pick where to look, eyes settling somewhere to the right of your head before he tries again, “You had a bad day.”

Oh, oh, he really couldn’t have tried harder. It’s an odd parallel of a moment, months ago, when you barged your way into his apartment with nachos and good intentions. There’s an uncomfortable swell of something right under your lungs and you beg it to stay quiet. He gestures with the plate in his hands, the smell of sugar and sweetness wafting out from underneath it, and your stomach gurgles. The sound pulls a giggle from both of you, and things start to feel a lot more comfortable.

“Welcome to the pit of despair.” You laugh, gesturing for him to follow you in and toward the kitchen.

You pull your last two clean forks out of the cutlery drawer as Javier sets the plate down on the kitchen table and reveals whatever it is he spent the time and effort to make. Just for you.

Pancakes.

And, honestly, you couldn’t imagine anything more Javier. He barely leaves the office, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only ever seen him eat outside of his desk when Connie forces him to come to dinner. You can’t stop the smile that slips onto your face, the first one all week if you’re being honest.

“What?” He asks, taking the fork you offer out to him and settling down in the chair across from you.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice is smaller than you expect it, the intention of his actions catches in your throat and makes you a little more emotional than you thought it would. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but thinks better of it when you reach out with your fork and rip a chunk out of the stack of frankly perfect looking offerings.

And they are perfect. Fluffy and light and sweet and wonderful. An odd juxtaposition to their chef, but you don’t think about it. You don’t think about anything, you sit and eat in silence and try to prolong this one moment of peace for as long as you can.

It ends sooner than you want it to. Every last crumb devoured between the two of you, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so bad. Pancakes will do that.

He’’s gathering up the plate and forks before you can protest, moving wordlessly to tackle the pile of dishes that you’ve been ignoring in your sink for the last couple of days.

Javier can’t help himself when he spots the stack of dishes behind you. You’ve looked like you’re on the verge of crying since you opened the door and if there’s one chore that’ll reduce someone to tears, it’s doing the dishes. So he doesn’t even think about it, just collects the empty plate and pulls the fork out of your hand and gets to work.

You’re about to protest, tell him something about how you can deal with it, or that it’s late and he should go home, get some sleep. He knows you well enough, and your face when he turns to look at you over the shoulder as the hot water starts running proves as much. Just as you know the no-nonsense look on his face isn’t one you want to argue with. He waits, watching, for you to rise from the table and shuffle back towards the living room, listens carefully for the sound of you flopping onto the couch, before turning back to the sink and getting to work.

It’s times like these he wishes he asked more questions, then he might know what prompted you to call out with a cold when you’re clearly the picture of health. Physically, anyway. Although sometimes he thinks you could be all kinds of sick, and that little voice in his head would still tell him you’re pretty. If he knew, or had any kind of hunch, he could help a little more than this. Pancakes and dirty dishes only go so far, although he’s never been great at comforting people beyond his cousins’ scraped knees when they were little. It’s not a case of ignoring any time you’ve opened up about your life outside of work, there’s always some part of his brain ready to soak up your every word like a sponge. Maybe it is as simple as that, maybe it’s just work that has gotten a bit too much. Maybe it’s a combination of things.

The dishes are neatly lined up on the drying rack before he even notices he’s finished, fishing around in the bottom of the sink for a full minute until he realises everything has been washed.

You’re still sitting on the couch when he comes through to the living room, hands dried and clean. You shuffle up to make room for him, having just dumped yourself unceremoniously in the middle of the cushions, and keep your eyes on the dormant television in front of you. You’re expecting him to say something, to tell you it’ll be okay, or that everything will work itself out, or that it probably won’t seem like a big deal in the morning. He’d be right, it probably won’t. But right now, all you can feel is the weight that settled on your chest as the whole of the past week makes itself comfortable.

You pull the blanket tighter against you, shoulders straining the thin fabric, as if you could squash all your problems until they disappear. But they only seem to get bigger.

“You remember my boyfriend, back home?” You’re quiet, more so than you had been earlier. As if you’re afraid of the words as you speak them.

He does remember. The guy came down to visit once, only a few weeks after you’d been transferred. Steve had done his best to befriend the guy, where Javier hadn’t extended anything beyond a handshake and a raised eyebrow in your direction. Not that he didn’t like him (he didn’t, still doesn’t, but that’s besides the point), but all Javier really remembers is your disappointment come Monday morning when you’d trudged into the office and told them he’d had to leave early. Work emergency. It had smelt like bullshit then, it smells like bullshit now. Still, he nods, and lets you continue.

“Not only mine, turns out.” It all comes out in one breath, and all he can do is watch as you curl even further into yourself. Scumbag. Sure, Javi’s been around the block a little, or a lot, but he’s never stooped so low as to cheat on anybody. He’s above that, at least.

The barely audible sniffle from under your blanket pulls him right out of thinking of all the ways he could make this guy’s life hell back home, and he sends a prayer up to whoever’s listening that he won’t make it worse with what he’s about to do.

A soft tug on the corner of your blanket is the only warning you get, and suddenly you’re being pulled across the length of the couch until you’re half in his lap.

“Javi.” You manage, barely hanging on to your composure. You know he knows that, but you don’t know why he won’t leave you to it.

The look on your face just about breaks his heart. All big watery eyes and confusion, the nickname you so rarely use sounds so soft whispered in the air between you. You’re already beginning to crumble, if only from the way he’s holding you like you’ll shatter with the slightest breeze. Maybe you will.

It’s the tenderness that gets you, in the end. How he seems to just know what you need, far better than anyone else has in a long time. The weight of his arms around you, gentle but firm, makes it suddenly difficult to breathe past the lump in your throat as the tears start to fall. And Javier holds you through it all. Even though you’re both at an awkward angle and you’re pretty sure his leg is trapped underneath you, he doesn’t budge. It’s easy to forget, alongside your easy camaraderie with Steve, that Javier works with you all day every day too.

It can’t be more than an hour later that he feels you slump against him and your breathing begins to even out, save for the occasional stray hiccup. Something about the way you’ve snuggled into him, head on his chest and fingers fisted in the soft black t-shirt he reserves for cold nights and bad days. A crack of thunder and sudden downpour of rain jolts you as you sleep, sends you even further into his embrace, and he holds you to him a little tighter. It’s nice, oddly. Even though having you so close makes his heart want to burst right out of his ribcage.

At least the rain sends a welcome gust of cool air through the open bedroom window, swirling down the hall and mercifully circling around the living room.

Javier tugs the blanket out from around you, just enough to cover the both of you, and shuffles as much as he dares to try and get comfortable. You need the sleep, and he’s not about to take it from you just for the sake of blood flow in his leg. You barely notice when he settles, comfortable even on your old couch and the weight of a grown human on top of him. His back will kill him in the morning, but you’ll have rested better for it and that’s a small price to pay.

He tries not to think too hard about what that might mean.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44

#once again i am a CLOWN #anyway pls take the third bit of writing i did today #the pancake king #narcos #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #liz does words #sfw

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4stars-uswnt · 4 years ago

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To Be in Love With Your Best Friend [Kelley O’Hara]

requested by @13uswntimagines: Prequel to “What a Night Out Can Lead To”… one of them kissing the other and that’s how they officially start dating

A/N: this is a PREQUEL to What a Night Out Can Lead To, but you don’t need to read it to understand this one (but you definitely should ;)). ok i actually really enjoy writing this universe and so expect to see a sequel of sorts (which comes from another brilliant idea from @13uswntimagines) also....i think this might be my longest imagine yet but idk

You slide into your bus seat after training and wait for your best friend to join you. This was your fourth national team camp, so although you had some experience and were a seasoned soccer player, having played in high school and at Stanford, you were still somewhat new on the USWNT.

“Hey loser.” Kelley smiles, plopping down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, Kel.” You return a smile, leaning your head on your best friend’s shoulder.

“You had a great practice today. I’m sure you’ll be getting regular call ups now.” She wraps her arm around your body and runs her hand through your hair.

“You think so?” You look up, with eager eyes.

“Mhm. You’ve been playing great, like always.” Kelley affirms, squeezing your shoulder. “Probably because you’ve been playing with me for the past nine years.” She adds, smirking.

You scoff, picking your head up to scoff at your best friend. “Yeah right. If anything that’s why I didn’t get called up before.” You tease her, sticking your tongue out.

“Oh? Is that right?” Kelley raises her eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye, one that you were all too familiar with.

“No, Kelley, don’t!” You put your hands up and move back against the window, trying to put as much distance as possible between the two of you.

“You asked for it…” Kelley sings, as she reaches for your sides and starts to tickle you.

“Ah, Kel, stop!” You gasp between giggles. “I can’t breath, ahhh stop!”

“Say ‘Kelley is awesome and the best friend ever’ and I’ll stop.” The freckled woman bargains, still tickling you.

You could barely speak, as you were laughing so hard, but you manage to breath out the sentence. “You’re awesome and the best friend ever!”

With that, Kelley retracts her hands, and you catch your breath. “See, now was that so hard?” She jests.

“I hate you.” You scowl and pout, crossing your arms.

“No you don’t.” She sings, placing a sloppy kiss onto your cheek.

You feel your face warm at the gesture, as you playfully roll your eyes at your best friend. For the rest of the bus ride, the two of you make small conversation, just enjoying each other’s presence.

—————

Later that evening, as you were finishing up dinner, you hear a chime from your phone, and a text from your mom pops up on your screen.

Reading what your mom had sent you, you can’t help but chuckle. You reach out to nudge Kelley, who’s leaning over to ask Tobin something. As the defender is finishing her conversation, you continue to poke her side, wanting her attention.

“What do you want?” Kelley light-heartedly snaps, slapping your hands away.

“My mom texted. She’s gonna call me later and wants to talk to you.” You explain, waving your phone for her to see.

“Hah!” Kelley laughs, throwing her head back. “I knew I was (Y/M/N)’s favorite.”

“Shut up, Kel.” You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at your best friend. “So, stop by around 8?” You look up and ask, as Kelley gets up from the table.

“I’ll be there.” She softly smiles and leans down to kiss the top of your head before leaving the room with Alex, Allie, Tobin, and Christen.

You go to finish your dinner, but before you could take another bite, you notice Julie smirking at you from across the table.

“What?” You tilt your head and put your fork down.

“You and Kelley are so cute.” She coos.

“Uh…thanks?” You furrow your eyebrows, taking a bite of your food.

“Have you two been dating since college or like when did you start dating?”

At that, you choke on your food. You cough and take a sip of water, as you try to regain your composure. “Kelley and I aren’t dating.” You sputter out.

“You’re not?” Julie frowns, and you shake your head. “Oh, sorry. I just assumed, seeing the way the two of you interact and how you look at each other.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck and flushing your face. As you think back to the past several years of your friendship with Kelley, you couldn’t help but as yourself: did you have feelings for your best friend?

Noticing your silence and anxiousness, Julie softly speaks up. “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I did’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, J, you’re good.” You give her a small smile. “I think I’m gonna head up.” You stand up to clear your plate, your appetite suddenly gone.

“(Y/N/N),” The blonde midfielder calls after you, “you sure you’re good?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, J.” You nod, before you make your way up to your hotel room.

—————

You spend the next couple hours surfing the TV channels, overthinking, and pacing your room. Thank goodness Crystal was in Julie’s room, or else she’d definitely think you were having a mental crisis, which in a way you were. As you were scrolling through your Instagram feed, trying to distract yourself from your consuming thoughts, you hear a knock on your door. You glance at the clock and realize it’s almost 8 o’clock, meaning that that is probably Kelley.

Making your way to open the door, you hear a muffled shout from the other woman. “Hurry up, (Y/N/N)!” She knocks a couple more times.

“I’m coming, chill.” You mutter under your breath and swing open the door.

Kelley bursts through and skips right past you, jumping onto your bed. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Get your dirty feet off my bed.” You swat her legs, and she slips her shoes off. “Nothing much. Just been relaxing.”

“Chill.” She hums. “So, when’s your mom calling?”

You open your mouth, but before you could respond, your phone starts ringing. “Now, I guess.”

You tap the screen and put her on speaker phone. “Hey mom.”

“Hi, sweetie!” Your mom’s cheerful voice echos through the phone. “How’d the first day of camp go?”

“Pretty good. We had training earlier and some fitness testing.”

“Well, that’s fun.” You could practically hear your mom’s smile. Your parents had always been supportive of your decision to pursue soccer as a full time career, and you were extremely grateful. They would always come to your games and cheer you on, being the loudest ones in the stands. “Your father wanted me to tell you that he sent you some stuff for your apartment, and it should be arriving in Utah in a week or so.”

“Awesome, thanks. I’ll be sure to text him.”

“Is Kelley there?”

“Hey Mama (Y/L/N)!” Kelley exclaims, leaning closer to your phone. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, sweetie. How’ve you been?” Your mom coos.

“Good, good. Camps have been much better now that your daughter’s making a regular appearance.” The defender smirks, nudging you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Aw, Kel, you’re too sweet.” Your mom lets out a loud laugh. “Oh yeah! I wanted to tell you: my Beat Everybody sweatshirt came! I’ll have to send you a picture.”

You find yourself intently observing the freckled woman, as you listen to Kelley and your mom have a conversation, and it hits you like a truck. You were in love with your best friend.

Crap.

—————

The next day, you did your best avoiding Kelley, choosing a different passing partner and even going as far as switching bus seats. To say Kelley was utterly confused would be a massive understatement.

As she watches you slide into the seat next to Allie, she frowns and her brows furrow.

Alex sits down next to Kelley and pulls her earbud out. “Wanna tell me why (Y/N) asked me to switch seats with her? Did you two have a fight?”

“I don’t know! She’s been avoiding pretty much all day. She switched seats with Crystal on the way to training, didn’t talk to me at all during practice, and now this. I don’t know what happened or what I did.” Kelley whines, rubbing her forehead.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Worms.” Alex frowns sympathetically at her friend and offers a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Maybe she just had a bad day or something, and doesn’t wanna talk about?” The forward offers.

“Maybe, but I’m her best friend. Why wouldn’t she come to me?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Kel. Just give her some space and let her come to you.” Alex suggests, and the defender nods.

“Yeah, alright. I can do that.” She whispers to herself. “Time and space.”

—————

Kelley had given you your time and space for the rest of yesterday and all morning, but she was starting to get anxious and frustrated. You were still avoiding her and didn’t even come to her room for your pregame ritual that you’d done for every game since you were in college.

You had once again asked one of your teammates to switch seats on the bus ride over to the stadium. Seeing you sitting with Julie just made Kelley angry, her patience worn thin. But she didn’t have time to grovel, as there was a game to be played, an important one at that versus Spain.

—————

It was about the 86th minute, and the game was tied 1-1, Alex scoring off an assist from Christen in the first half, and Jenni coming back early in the second half for an equalizer.

You watch, as Lindsey plays a diagonal ball out wide to Tobin, and you make a run to the top of the 18. Tobin does what she does best, splitting two defenders, and sends a high cross into the box. You sprint onto ball, the change of speed losing your defender. Jumping in the air, you connect your head with the ball and nod it down into the lower left-hand corner.

You throw your hands up, as Christen crashes into you for a bone crushing hug. Alex and Tobin join in for the group hug, patting you on the head. As you make your way up the field, back to center, your other teammates give you high-fives and side hugs.

You see Kelley approaching you, ready to do your traditional goal celebration. You give her a small smile, and the two of you do your secret handshake. No matter how confused or angry you were or if you were avoiding her, you would always do your secret handshake goal celebration, as it was a representation of your long lasting friendship and constancy in each other’s lives.

The game restarts, and for the last four minutes, plus two minutes of extra time, Spain frantically tries to score another equalizer. But they come up short, as the referee blows her whistle, signaling the end of the match and another USWNT victory.

The team crowds you, the subs sprinting from the sidelines, and celebrates with a giant group hug. A huge grin breaks out on your face, as Megan picks you up from behind.

“What a goal, (Y/N)! That’s what I’m talking about.” She exclaims, putting you down on the ground.

“Thanks, Megan.” You turn around, smiling.

After the team huddle, where Vlatko congratulates everybody on the win, you all head back to the locker room to shower and pack up.

Making your way onto the bus, you notice Kelley already sitting in her seat, occupied by something on her phone. You walk down the aisle and apprehensively take your place in your usual seat. Sensing your presence, Kelley looks up, surprised to see you seating next to her.

“Hey.” You say, nervousness leaking through your voice.

“Hi.” She whispers.

The two of you sit in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar silence between you, before Kelley breaks it.

“Can we talk when we get back to the hotel?”

You nod, not trusting words to come out of your mouth, and you go back to sitting in silence, the only noise coming from the rest of your teammates.

—————

Once you get back to the hotel, you follow Kelley up to her room. You each set down your bags and take a seat across from each other, one of you sitting on each bed.

“So what do you wanna talk about?” You ask, fidgeting with the hems of your sleeves.

“Really?” Kelley looks at you disbelievingly.

“What?”

“You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Talking about? Kel, you haven’t said anything. Why are you so upset?”

“I haven’t said anything?!” Kelley stands up, waving her hands in the air frustratedly. “You’ve barley spoken to me for the past two days. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me. My best friend ignores pretty much my entire existence for two days, so yeah, that’s why I’m upset.”

You hang your head, ashamed of your actions, knowing there’s no way you could possibly explain your actions to her.

“You still have nothing to say?” Kelley laughs sarcastically. “Like what the hell, (Y/N)? You don’t talk to me, you ask our teammates to switch seats with you on the bus, and you just completely avoid me. Is this because I hogged your conversation with your mom? Because if it is, I’m sorry, but you could’ve just told me. Like what did I do wrong? Just tell me, (Y/N), because I can’t go any longer with you—”

You stand up and place both your hands on her cheeks, bringing her in for a kiss, effectively cutting off her rambling. Kelley doesn’t kiss back, too shocked by your actions, so you pull away, regret and embarrassment written across your face.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll just go.” You turn to leave and save yourself from embarrassing yourself even further, but Kelley grabs your wrist, pulling you back into her body, connecting your lips again.

You feel yourself melt into the kiss, as your lips move languidly against each other. Pulling away, you rest your forehead against hers and let out a watery laugh.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for almost eight years.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I took a body shot off of you at that frat party our sophomore year.” Kelley confesses.

“I really love you, Kel. Like I’m in love with you.” You whisper, a tear leaking down your cheek.

“I really love you, too, (Y/N/N).” She gently wipes the wetness from your face, as you move your hands to play with the baby hairs on the back of her neck. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Mhm.” You nod, biting your lip. “And I am so sorry for doing that.” You remove yourself from her embrace, frustrated with yourself. “It’s just— Julie had assumed we were dating after watching us interact a couple of days ago at dinner, and it just made me think about my feelings. And I realized that I’m in love with you and have been for years, but you’re my best friend, so I was scared I was gonna lose you.” You look down at your feet, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes.

Kelley takes a few steps, so she’s now standing in front of you. “(Y/N), will you please look at me?”

You still refuse to look up, so Kelley puts her finger under your chin, lifting your head, your eyes meeting her green orbs.

“There she is.” The defender smiles, taking your hand in hers. “(Y/N), I understand, I really do, because I’ve felt the same way. I’ve loved you for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so I didn’t say anything. But I’m so glad that we’re here now because I can finally express all my love for you.” She kisses your forehead, and you close your eyes, wrapping your arms around her body.

“And I hope you know,” Kelley adds, “you’re never going to lose me, no matter what.”

“I love you, Kel.” Your eyes soft and full of love.

“I love you too, loser.” She pulls you closer into her body, as the two of you enjoy each other’s embrace.

Leaning your head against Kelley’s chest, you feel her chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

“Your mom is gonna have a field day.”

You giggle, a blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Yeahhh, she’s been bugging and teasing me about my crush for years.”

“Ah, so that’s why I’m her favorite.” Kelley playfully boasts, and you slap her shoulder.

“Hey!” She grabs where you hit her. “That hurt!”

“No it didn’t.” You roll your eyes, as Kelley pouts with her best puppy-dog eyes. “Oh, stop it. You’re a big baby.”

“Yeah, but I’m your big baby?” She says hopefully.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to think, “only if you take me out on a proper date. Tomorrow after the match? Say, 8?”

“I think I can do that.” Kelley smirks, leaning down to kiss you, but you stop her with your finger against her lips.

“Hey, there. I don’t kiss before the first date.” You turn and grab your stuff.

“But—But what about before?” The freckled defender fumbles.

Now, it’s your turn to smirk. “Just think of that as making up for lost time. But no more freebies” You give her a wink. “See you later, Kel.”

You shut the door, leaving behind a stunned love-struck Kelley O’Hara. Before heading back to your own hotel room, you lean back against the door, soaking in all that just happened. You smile, feeling your heart explode.

How lucky you were to fall in love with your best friend.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine #kelley o'hara imagines #uswnt #kelley o'hara

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nose-bandaid · 4 years ago

Text

the little flower on your wrist

Wonwoo x (gender neutral) Reader | soulmate AU angst + fluffy ending i promise:) | 4.2k words

sequel to: the moon told me so ☾~ (highly suggest reading it first !!)

synopsis: four years have passed since wonwoo left to study abroad. four years without your soulmate. four years, spent doing all you can to stop your heart from racing every time you thought of him, because he wasn’t ready for love. and yet, suddenly, with a little mistake on your part, you find yourself next to him again, picking at the same flowers in this flower field of life.

a/n: hey thanks so much for loving the first part guys, it made me so happy to hear that people actually wanted it to continue too !! i hope this second part matches what you’re looking for and that you enjoy:)

=====

You spilled everything to everyone eventually. As the years passed and people constantly pestered you about your mark, you didn’t see that much harm in telling them. Especially with the fact that Wonwoo was away.

With the fact that you practically had no hope for a relationship at this point.

To put it simply, your friends were all shocked. Shocked that, with everything’s that’s happened, you somehow managed to hide your mark from all of them — save for the few who knew about it. After the initial instinct to chastise you for keeping such a big secret, they resorted to pity and sympathy, though you honestly didn’t need it. You’ve done enough pitying on your own.

In the loneliness of your bedroom, your hand drifted to your ankle where the mark resided, and pulled down your sock to check in on it — a habit you’ve developed recently. You weren’t quite sure when it started, but at some point, the flowers next to your crescent moon began to fade away, as if someone had taken an eraser and decided to wipe off the petals one by one.

And every time you woke up to see that another petal had disappeared, a part of your love for Wonwoo faded away as well. You took it as a sign that maybe it really was time to try and move on.

Your plan to move on did end up actually working. You busied yourself with work and picking up new hobbies to dwell on so that your thoughts wouldn’t return to him. And in your spare time, the other boys happily took you out on adventures around the city — Chan and Seungkwan especially — and you’ve never been more grateful to have them by your side. You still kept in touch with Wonwoo, sparsely, but once in a while you would contact the other to check in on how they’re doing.

To your surprise (and joy you suppose), it didn’t take too long for you to learn the art of letting go. Perhaps it was because there was only a single flower left on your ankle, or because Jun got you hooked on this amazing game you’re now obsessed with. Or perhaps, your heart had finally lost all hope in being with Wonwoo and was starting to back off. While you were far from being a master of letting go, you were content with where you were, and for the first time in a long while, you felt optimistic about yourself.

=====

“Now, why didn’t you tell me?”

That effort all fell apart when you received the phone call. You really had no clue how you were supposed to prepare yourself for it — if it was even possible for you to prepare for it.

Wonwoo had just called to inform you that he was going to come home that month because of a job opportunity he managed to score that wasn’t half the world away. That was already a piece of news you were trying to recover from because Wonwoo? Coming back? As in your soulmate is going to return just as you were getting over him? It was some stupidly accurate timing on fate’s part.

Then there was that sudden shift from joy to fear the moment he asked the question out of the blue. If you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were going to see him again, how were you supposed to react to this? You didn’t know why, but you froze in fear when you heard the question, as if he caught you red-handed.

Your lips parted as you stared at the wall in front of you, not a single clue of what Wonwoo was referring to on your mind. “I’m sorry, what?” You managed to whisper back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeated, voice devoid of emotions and you struggled to recall the events of the past few days. You didn’t do anything wrong, did you? The last time you spoke to him was last week, and to be honest, you didn’t even really think of him after that.

A few seconds of silence passed until you sighed in defeat. “Wonwoo you’re going to have to be more detailed than this, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You didn’t know why he was suddenly being so cryptic with you, it was unlike him to have this hint of bluntness in his tone.

“Chan posted a photo last night.” Was all he gave and he left you to your own thoughts once again. Then it suddenly clicked — no matter how far Wonwoo was, you still managed to slip up.

You had gone to the beach with Chan, Mingyu, and Joshua yesterday, and you so ambitiously didn’t cover up your mark, because why bother? It’s not like Wonwoo was there to see it, and no one else would even care about your mark. They were so common and seen everywhere, letting your guard down once in a while wouldn’t hurt, right?

Or so you thought.

And of all the days and outfits you wore, and all the times you hung out with your friends, Chan just had to choose a picture where you didn’t have your socks on.

“Ah, well…” You really didn’t know what to say. You weren’t even able to tell him the words that you rehearsed before he left, and now you had to come up with something on the spot?

“How long have you had it for?” He asked quietly, he sounded more betrayed than he did angry.

“I got it before you did.” You replied meekly.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Was it because of what I said? About not wanting to get in a relationship?”

You didn’t have an answer.

“I—” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I was so worried about meeting my soulmate before I left, and then I spent the what — the last four years? For the last four years I was still waiting and worrying about them, wondering if we were ever going to meet, but you were my soulmate the entire time?”

“I’m sorry…” The mark on your ankle burned as if it was ashamed, and you trembled along with it.

“No, I should be sorry, I didn’t mean to get mad about this.” Another sigh. “I’m just a little overwhelmed, and maybe even a little desperate now that everything’s falling into place. It all makes sense.”

“So what happens now?” You dared to ask the question that’s sat on the tip of your tongue ever since he called you out.

“I’ve — I’ve actually been thinking.” He started, and you heard shuffle around on the other end. “Maybe it’s because for these past 4 years I’ve been a little bit lonelier, living away from you guys, or maybe it’s just because I’ve grown as a person and got to learn more about myself.” There was a short pause.

“But I’m willing to, you know, try for a relationship. A romantic one, I mean. I think I’m willing to try it out, especially if it’s with you. And if it doesn’t go so well, then I was hoping that at least we could go back to being friends again, like the ones we used to be.”

Your head hesitantly nodded at his words until you remembered that he couldn’t see you. This wasn’t supposed to happen — this was hardly part of the plan. Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest as your mind repeated his words over and over again. Wonwoo was ready.

Wait, Wonwoo was ready?

So what happened to the whole getting over him part? It was thrown out of the window, clearly, seeing that your mouth couldn’t form any kind of disagreement to his suggestion.

“Ah, yeah, I’m willing to give us a chance.” You said.

He let out a small hum and then there was silence on the line. Though the conversation was quiet, your ears burned until he finally spoke up again.

“Also, now that this has been confirmed, I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Mhm?”

“Has your mark been disappearing recently? Like the flowers?”

There was an odd sense of relief, hearing that you weren’t the only one experiencing that.

“Oh… yeah they’ve been disappearing.” You confirmed.

“Any idea on why that’s happening?”

You considered your next words before replying. “It could be because things weren’t going so well between us? Not that something wrong happened, but I guess, you know, we’ve been so far apart, and as time goes on, things change, we change. Maybe our marks are trying to tell us something.”

You heard him click his tongue. “That’s reasonable.”

More silence.

“Then,” He spoke up again. “I hope that when I come home, we’ll be able to give each other enough chances so that our marks go back to the way they were.”

Of all the emotions in the world, you never thought that you’d feel hopeful about the thought of Wonwoo coming back, and yet you smiled softly into the receiver.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you then, Wonwoo. Let’s try this all over again.”

=====

Chan called the next day sputtering out an apology about the picture and saying that he took it down despite you insisting that those measures weren’t necessary. What’s been done has been done. You weren’t really sure how the news got to him, but you suspected that Wonwoo must’ve shot him a message earlier. About what exactly? You didn’t know.

It took some time for you to calm the poor boy down, though you ended up having to agree to his persistent plans on buying you something to make up for his mistake.

You settled for a modest cup of coffee — he was still trying to get through school after all, and you didn’t want him to spend his money on something so futile. As a last-minute decision, you also invited Seungkwan to join in on the meeting after you told him about the phone call.

When you arrived with Chan in tow, he was already sitting there, arms crossed, steaming like the cup of white hot chocolate sitting in front of him. For some reason, during the call he had sounded angrier about the situation than you were, and you shared a wary glance with Chan when you realized that his mood hadn’t changed. He greeted the two of you dismissively as if he didn’t really want to be there.

You pushed it aside at first and spent some time talking about random topics and catching up with each other in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Then you relayed to them the exact details of the call and when you noticed that Seungkwan still hadn’t smiled at all that day, you bit your lip and took in his disheveled appearance.

“Seungkwan… Is everything alright? You seem kind of mad about something.” You tentatively asked.

“That’s because I am kind of mad.” He replied

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but that was not the answer you were hoping for.

“What are you so mad about?” Chan pressed further.

“What am I mad about?” He huffed and took a sip of his drink before continuing. “Everything! This whole situation is just wrong.”

You cocked your head at his words. “Wrong?” You echoed, a little lost.

He dropped his hands to the table in exasperation. “Yes, wrong! I understand that he wasn’t ready for love. That, I totally understand and respect him for, but the whole ‘leaving you to move across the world without even considering your feelings or asking how you felt about it’ just pisses me off in so many ways.” His hand waved around to accentuate his points and continued.

“Y/n, you’re an unbelievably kind person so you probably didn’t even notice, but as a bystander watching this whole situation play out, I just can’t help but feel that Wonwoo is just doing you so wrong. You don’t deserve to suffer like this. I don’t think he deserves another chance so easily.”

“I’m fine though, really…” You reached out in an attempt to hold his hand and calm him down, but he edged away from you instead.

“You’re not fine though! Don’t lie straight to my face and say that you were fine when he left you at the airport, crying, or when you ignored our messages for a week because you were ‘trying to get over the heartbreak’. I don’t understand how you’re still willing to give him a chance after everything he’s done to you.” He shot back, voice thick with spite.

“Dude you need to chill out. Wonwoo didn’t really do anything wrong, he had no idea they were soulmates.” Chan interjected, voice firm as he stared at his friend in disappointment. Neither of you could believe that Seungkwan, sweet, lovely Seungkwan, was the same man standing in front of you. Sure he had his petty moments, but he’s never lashed out at a friend like this before — his sassiness was all supposed to be saved for jokes.

Said person scoffed at Chan’s words and then turned to look at you.

“All I’m saying is that he doesn’t deserve you! Is it wrong for me to say that?” He defended and stood up from his seat. The chair was pushed back with a noisy screech that made you wince.

In the midst of his wild gestures, he’d accidentally knocked over his cup, spilling some of the leftover contents onto the table. The people sitting at neighbouring tables cast curious glances your way and you frantically gestured for Chan to grab some tissues as you started to clean the mess with the ones you already had.

“Seungkwan please calm down, I’m alright now, seriously.” You tried and looked up at your friend who was still standing, angrily watching you clean up the drink as if it offended him.

“I’m leaving.” That was all he said. It came out quiet, barely a whisper, but you heard it, and you could do nothing but watch him grab his jacket and stride straight out the door, bringing a draft of the cold air into the shop.

Being left to deal with the commotion he created, you and Chan gave a small apology to the people in the shop and tried to ignore the awkward stares and mumbling directed towards you. If only people could mind their own business, the world would’ve been so much better.

Taking a deep breath as you tossed out the soiled napkin, you tried to calm yourself down. You reasoned that getting yourself worked up about his attitude would only make things worse and decided to leave the shop as well, after Chan suggested you go to the comfort of his house to talk it out instead.

You didn’t know what riled Seungkwan up so much that day.

=====

“The mall?” You got another impromptu call the following weekend when you were gently washing what was left of your mark. Rumours had it that if you took care of a mark well enough, it’ll flourish. Especially if you use bath salts, they said. The lavender ones.

Maybe it was silly to believe so, but when the petals started fading away daily, you grew desperate, and you were desperate enough to believe anything that was told to you. Either way, a little self-care didn’t really hurt, right?

“Yeah, I just thought that you know, two friends, we haven’t seen each other for a while… hanging out at the mall sounds nice doesn’t it?” The voice on the other end chirped back.

“Jeonghan, I literally saw you yesterday.”

“So you’re saying no?” You could imagine him childishly pouting right about now and you sighed, shaking your head.

“I’m not declining the invite, but there’s something else going on isn’t there?”

He let out an awkward laugh at your skepticism. “I just wanna see my friend, is it too much to ask for?”

You let out another sigh. “When were you planning on meeting up?”

“How about now? I’m right at your door.”

And sure enough, Yoon Jeonghan was standing right outside your door, all dressed and ready to take you to the mall on a Saturday morning.

=====

You couldn’t place a finger on what made the meeting so suspicious. Jeonghan acted normal the entire time, even offering to buy you a snack when he noticed you eyeing the tempting display. But he didn’t hint at anything he needed to say, and you began to wonder if he really did just want to see you. The man could be a little ambiguous at times.

He did end up having something to talk about. On the bright side, at least your suspicions were correct. On the… not so bright side, that probably meant there was some bad news to share, and you weren’t so sure how much more you could take before you combusted.

You realized his true intentions behind the meetup when he grabbed your hand and led you to one of the benches nearby, nudging you to take a seat as he joined you. He didn’t hesitate to get to the point.

“I heard about what happened the other day.” He had entered therapist Yoon mode.

“What happened?” You played it dumb — you’ve been a fool your entire life, falling for Wonwoo and not doing anything about it, so acting a little oblivious wasn’t too farfetched from your character.

“With Seungkwan, about the little incident.” He spoke to you in a hushed tone, as if there was someone to hide from, but all around you were people milling about, minding their own business. No one was really going to care about what he said to you, nor were they even going to listen in the first place. That idea didn’t seem to occur to him though.

“Oh, that.” There was nothing else to say, and you just nodded your head at his words.

You began to jokingly wonder if there was a secret group chat about you behind your back, and that that was how all these messages were being passed around because you sure as hell didn’t tell anyone about it.

(There was)

“You know… Seungkwan…” He trailed off for a moment and absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt to smoothen out the wrinkles. He was buying time, but there was only so much he had to spend. Taking a deep breath, his hand stopped fussing over you.

“He likes you, yeah?”

You blanched. “He whats?”

Jeonghan stared straight into your eyes and repeated what he said. “Seungkwan. He likes you. He’s liked you for a while now.”

“I,” You faltered as you searched for ways to respond to that; nothing came to mind. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.” You admitted. You didn’t know why your body was defaulting to cry at the news, but it did, just like when you said goodbye to Wonwoo, and Jeonghan soothingly stroked your head in an attempt to calm you down.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m sorry to tell you so suddenly, and I’m sorry that it’s not him who’s telling you, but honestly, I don’t think he ever would, and you wouldn’t have ever gotten a proper explanation for his actions.” He comfortingly laced his fingers into yours. “Take some deep breaths first — can I continue?”

“Go ahead.” You whispered as you followed his instructions and inhaled deeply. The faint smell of pretzels from a nearby shop entered your mind and in its own way, grounded you as your mind tried to catch up with everything that was going on.

Seungkwan… likes you? Boo Seungkwan, one of your closest friends, your confidant when you learned about Wonwoo’s mark, had liked you this entire time?

“You know things didn’t go so well with him and his soulmate.” It was hardly an explanation, but it was all Jeonghan offered. If anything, it made you feel guilty. What if you were the reason why they didn’t love each other happily? Seungkwan hadn’t told you the details of what happened, all you knew was that someone came in the way, that they just didn’t feel like they were actually soulmates.

And perhaps, you were that certain someone. Now it made sense why he didn’t tell you anything.

Thinking about it now, you felt so bad for pining for someone who didn’t love you back — or at least someone who didn’t love you back then — while someone else close to you had been loving you without you even knowing. It hurt. It hurt to suddenly learn all of this when it was too late. But what would you do if you were to learn about it when Wonwoo hadn’t left yet? When Seungkwan had just met his soulmate?

You didn’t have answers, but it explained why Seungkwan got so mad when he heard that Wonwoo decided to give you a chance. It makes sense that he would’ve felt cheated off of.

You probably would’ve felt the same way.

“So,” Jeonghan hesitated and drummed his fingers on the bench before continuing. “The question now, it’s been four years… do you still love Wonwoo?”

The years prior to his departure were dedicated to pushing your feelings aside, and the past four years had been dedicated to finally picking up the dustpan and throwing them in the trash. But now, the emotions came piling on you once again and you were drowning in it.

“Yeah, I still do.”

=====

Jeonghan had advised that you didn’t let Seungkwan’s feelings get in the way of your potential relationship with Wonwoo. The latter was supposed to come home by the end of this week, and now it felt like there was a time bomb ticking away. Any hour not spent in preparation for his arrival felt wasted. You argued Jeonghan’s statement, saying that it was rude of you to pretend like Seungkwan didn’t exist, that to not acknowledge his feelings was essentially the same as saying he didn’t matter.

But then he said that he needed to let go of those feelings and learn to give his soulmate a chance. Apparently, she was willing to love him, but he was still blinded by his love for you. It’s kind of funny how you were in the exact same situation, except with Wonwoo instead.

Maybe you were all fools.

You listened to Jeonghan and gave Seungkwan the space he needed, only sending him a small message that he has yet to reply to. Your time was instead spent on preparing yourself for Wonwoo’s arrival, which came much too quickly for your own good.

=====

Standing there anxiously at the airport your ears perked when you heard the announcements above your head state the arrival of his flight. That’s when it really hit you that you were actually going to see him again.

You were going to see Jeon Wonwoo again.

You were going to see your soulmate, your soulmate who has finally acknowledged you.

Before you knew it, he was there, standing right in front of you.

In all honesty, he didn’t change much in appearance. He was still the soft boy you remembered him to be, with sweater paws covering the hands that carried the bags trailing behind him and round glasses perched on his face.

His small, polite smile was still the same too.

“Hello, y/n.”

Instead of returning the greeting, you found yourself rushing into his embrace, hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.

“I’ve missed you more than I’d like to admit, stupid.” You muttered into his body and you felt him chuckle at that. Pulling apart, you looked at him in the eyes to make sure that it was actually him holding you. “Welcome back.” You smiled.

“Well, I don’t plan on leaving again anytime soon, so we can have more time together then. That is, unless you get sick of me and shoo me away.” He joked lightly and ruffled your hair.

“Me? Shooing my soulmate away?” You replied dramatically, before clearing your throat and getting serious again. “Any time spent with you — romantic or not— is valuable to me, and I don’t plan on ever getting tired of you.”

The hand resting on your head made its way to your side and he timidly took your hand into his, studying your face to make sure he had permission. It was a little awkward, a little clunky, but you thought his hand fit perfectly into yours and you smiled, leaning into him a little bit. As you made your way out of the airport, you glanced down at your hands intertwined with each other and noticed the familiar navy blue beads on his wrist.

“You’re still wearing the bracelet I gave you.” You pointed out.

“This?” He brought his hand up to inspect it. “Of course I still wear it, it’s a gift from you—”

You halted your steps when he suddenly stopped speaking.

“Hm? What is it?”

Still staring at his wrist, his mouth quirked into a small smile and he chuckled.

“Huh, funny.”

You strained your neck in an attempt to see what he was looking at. “What? What is it?” You asked again.

“There’s a little flower on my wrist now.” He replied softly, tilting his arm for you to see, and sure enough, in the midst of the faded flowers by his moon, was a bright blue forget-me-not.

=====

The next morning when you woke up, there was a little flower on your ankle, next to the crescent moon. Though the mark wasn’t the same flowery sky it used to be, the little flower was a start.

And maybe one day, those flowers will flourish along with your love for each other.

=====

epilogue: kairosclerosis

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen soulmate au #wonwoo soulmate au #nose-bandaid

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bevioletskies · 3 years ago

Text

(i’m caught between) goodbye and i love you

summary: Sometimes, Klavier thinks a little too much about how he never knew the last time he saw Apollo was going to be the last time he saw Apollo. So, when Apollo finally returns home from Khura’in, Klavier finds himself stuck, unsure of when to finally tell Apollo how he feels - especially when it seems like Apollo isn’t quite ready to confess, either.

word count: 16.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day seven of seven (prompt: "catharsis"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

Mild spoiler warning for Spirit of Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol and one scene where a character has a panic attack. Fic title is from the song (I'm Caught Between) Goodbye And I Love You by the Carpenters.

“What do you think, Gavin, which do you - hey, Gavin? Are you listening?”

Klavier startled at the sound of Apollo’s voice, too lost in his own thoughts to realize someone had been talking to him. He looked over at Apollo, who was standing underneath one of the courthouse’s most prolific picture windows, practically glowing in the early afternoon sun. Klavier’s breath hitched at the sight. “Ah - my apologies, Herr Forehead, I didn’t catch that. What were you saying?”

“Ema said we should all do something that doesn’t involve murder for once.” Apollo looked up from his phone, wincing. “Er, that is, something that doesn’t involve solving a murder for once. She suggested drinks, though Kay apparently prefers laser tag. As if I don't get enough bumps and bruises from helping Trucy out on weekends.”

“Ah, the life of a magician’s brother,” Klavier teased, smiling easily. “But, wait - do you mean to say Fräulein Detective actually wants to hang out with me? Or are you inviting me? Either way, I find it hard to believe.”

“No one’s more surprised than me,” Apollo drawled. “But seriously, Ema says Kay is making her ask you through me, ‘cos that totally makes sense. Anyway, drinks or laser tag? Or, y’know, both? They’re thinking this weekend since they’re going to some forensics convention next weekend. Did not know those existed. Do you think they give out swag bags full of fingerprint powder?”

“I would advise against it if they did,” Klavier said, chuckling. He then slipped his hands into his pockets, shooting Apollo an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Forehead, you’ll have to have a good time without me. I have a dentist appointment, some meetings...you know how it is. Maybe next time, ja?”

“Sure, I’ll let you know whenever that is,” Apollo replied with a nonchalant shrug; he sent a quick text, presumably to Ema, then pocketed his phone. “Anyway, I should go find Mr. Wright and head back to the agency. So, uh...see you when I see you, I guess.”

“Auf Wiedersehen, baby,” Klavier said, winking. Apollo rolled his eyes, turning on his heel and striding away, waving Klavier off over his shoulder. “Don’t have too good a time without me, though, ja?” Apollo’s wave instantly turned into a middle finger.

Barely two weeks later, Klavier found himself replaying the rather mundane conversation in his head over and over again as he walked into his superior’s office, his hands shoved into his pockets to hide how hard they were shaking. “Willkommen zurück, Herr Edgeworth. How was your flight? Smooth, I hope.”

“Smoother than what conspired in Khura’in, to be sure,” Edgeworth replied, neatly setting his teacup down in its saucer. “Don’t worry, Prosecutor Gavin, I’m still getting everything in order. I doubt you’ll have much work to do today, bar any last-minute cases coming in.”

“Danke, sir, good to know.” Klavier glanced briefly in the direction of Edgeworth’s custom chessboard, his red knights and blue pawns, just so he wouldn’t have to look at its owner’s steely gaze. “So, er - ”

“Out with it, Prosecutor Gavin,” Edgeworth said, sighing wearily. “I can tell you have something on your mind. I’m afraid I can’t give you the exact details of what happened, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Ah - ja, I know, I - I was just wondering if…” Klavier hesitated. “...if everyone is...okay. Safe and sound, so to speak.”

Edgeworth’s face softened. “Yes, everyone’s perfectly fine. Wright, Ms. Fey, Ms. Cykes, and Trucy are all fine.”

Klavier blinked. “Wait, but - what about Herr Fore - Herr Justice? What...did he…”

“I should have known that was who you were really curious about,” Edgeworth said knowingly, looking at Klavier over the tops of his glasses. His expression, gentle, almost sympathetic, made Klavier’s stomach churn. “Mr. Justice decided to stay behind in Khura’in indefinitely. He’s looking to help rebuild their legal system from the ground up.”

Klavier felt as if his heart had dropped right through to the floor. “He’s...he’s not coming back?” He could barely hear the sound of his own voice over the rush of his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Eventually, perhaps, but not anytime soon,” Edgeworth replied. “My apologies, Prosecutor Gavin. I know you two were…”

“Close?” Klavier let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Nein, not at all. We were barely even friends.”

Edgeworth straightened up in his seat, and then, to Klavier’s astonishment, removed his glasses. It was unnerving to see such warmth in his superior’s eyes, especially when he knew Edgeworth didn’t think much of him in the first place. Not after what had happened all those years ago, even though it hadn’t really been him. “Let me amend my previous statement, then. I know you two had a...connection of sorts.”

“Ja, through...through someone I’d rather not talk about.” Klavier cleared his throat. “Danke for letting me know, Herr Edgeworth. It’s...good to see Herr Justice making something of himself.”

“He's definitely an admirable young man,” Edgeworth replied, nodding slowly. “I can see why Wright took a liking to him. I can see why you took a liking to him.”

“Ah, well,” Klavier said, coughing again. “Anyway, I should leave you to it, sir. Have a good rest of your day, ja? I’ll be in my office if anything comes up.”

“Of course.” Edgeworth neatly slid his glasses back on, then turned his attention to his work laptop. “Take care, Prosecutor Gavin.” Nodding at the dismissal, Klavier bowed his head and left Edgeworth’s office, his footsteps noticeably heavier than they’d been when he first entered it. He took a few heaving breaths, then shut himself in his own office and let out a small, silent sob.

_____

“I see you’re moping again, Gavin-dono. Must be a day that ends in ‘y’.”

“Bitte, Herr Blackquill, I’m perfectly fine,” Klavier said, clutching his mug of tea a little tighter than necessary. “My trial yesterday? Perfekt. The weather during my morning run earlier today? Perfekt. The leftovers I brought for lunch today? Perfekt, so long as Herr Payne doesn’t break the microwave again before I get there...I don’t know how he manages to do that on a weekly basis. Anyway, as you can see, I’ve never been better.”

“What a sad testament to your mental state if that were true.” Simon dropped into the seat opposite him, his hands resting on top of the breakroom table, his intense gaze focused on Klavier’s face. Klavier didn’t find him as intimidating as everyone else did, especially not after he’d witnessed Simon sing a drunken duet with Kay, entirely unprompted, at an office holiday party. No amount of threats or glares could get Klavier to delete the video evidence off his backup hard drive. “Luckily for you, it’s entirely false. You’ve been acting strangely for weeks now, and I know the reason why.”

“Do you really?” Klavier sipped his tea. “I thought you didn’t, quote-unquote, ‘care to stick your nose in my absurd affairs’. After all, I’m the silly one of the prosecutor’s office, am I not?” Simon cocked his head slightly, perplexed. “Ah, that Prosecutor Gavin, what an odd one he is. All style and no substance, always speaking in that accent that no one believes is real, always spouting nonsense and song lyrics and little else.”

“Self-hatred doesn’t suit you, so I suggest you cease this pitiful act at once,” Simon said, frowning. “You’re a confident man, Gavin-dono. I’d even say your confidence is fully justified, foppish nature aside. And yet, here you are, torn up over Justice-dono’s absence like a heartbroken teenager.”

“I am not torn up,” Klavier sniffed, setting his mug down with a sharp clunk. “I’m happy to hear that Herr Forehead has found his true calling. A far cry from the loud, nervous rookie he was when we first met. Now, he’s just loud.”

“...hmph. Yes, that piercing voice of his certainly rivals Taka’s,” Simon replied, taking a moment to scratch the underside of his bird’s chin. Klavier didn’t like the way Taka was eyeing his hair; he suspected Taka was fighting against his instincts to make a nest.

“Maybe still a little nervous.” Klavier paused. “I imagine seeing him stand in a Khura’inese court must be quite...something.”

“I didn’t sit here with the intention of listening to you dance around your romantic feelings towards Justice-dono, you know,” Simon informed him. “It’s exhausting and pointless, and a waste of my time.”

Klavier averted his eyes from Simon’s face, finding himself oddly fascinated with a water stain on the opposite wall, right beside the notice board. “Why did you sit here, then?”

“Because...I know a lonely person when I see one.” Simon let the silence linger for a moment; Klavier wasn’t sure which of them favored dramatic pauses more. “Even Athena told me you seemed...not yourself. Though you’ve been performing your prosecutorial duties just fine, she said you were distant...distracted. Is it the lack of companionship, perhaps?”

“You and Herr Edgeworth seem to be under the impression that Forehead and I were friends,” Klavier said evenly, his tone growing increasingly irritated. “The truth is, Herr Blackquill - since you seem unusually interested for someone who barely says two words to me most mornings - that Apollo was my friend, but I wasn’t his. Is that what you wanted to hear? Has your analysis of my psyche scratched your itch?”

Like Edgeworth, Simon’s face almost seemed to soften. “I had no desire to rile you up, but...I see that I’ve done it, anyway. I see that I’ve overstepped. Forgive me, Gavin-dono.” Klavier looked up at him, stunned. Simon merely stood, smoothing out the front of his coat. Even Taka’s expression seemed apologetic. “Find someone to talk to, if you haven’t already; it will do you a world of good. I heard many a story from my fellow prisoners by simply offering to lend an ear. I think you’d find the process of opening up to be quite...illuminating. Freeing, even.”

“I’m sure I would.” Klavier took another sip and said nothing else.

_____

“Mr. Gavin! I thought I saw you in the audience, but I couldn’t believe it!”

Laughing, Klavier held out the bouquet of red roses in his arms for her to take. “Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, fräulein, what a perfect way to celebrate your eighteenth. You were as magical as ever, though who would ever expect any less?”

Beaming, Trucy accepted his flowers, then practically launched herself right at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He barely managed to catch her in time. “Thank you so much! Ah, these are so beautiful - and they smell great, too!” She stepped back, taking a generous whiff before exhaling happily. “Hey, do you wanna drop by my dressing room for a sec? I have to go sign autographs and stuff, but I’m sure Athena would love to say hi!”

“Sure,” Klavier agreed. “Lead the way.” He followed Trucy down the backstage corridor, coming to a stop in front of a door with a gold nameplate in the shape of a silk top hat. Klavier involuntarily shuddered; the Gramarye seal had always been a sore spot for him, no matter how many good memories outweighed the bad. Trucy opened the door, revealing that it wasn’t just Athena who was waiting inside, but a whole group of people - Athena, the two Fey women whose names Klavier vaguely remembered from Trucy’s stories, Detective Gumshoe, and an odd, almost sad-looking girl wearing a traditional costume. However, Klavier’s eyes went straight to the two people conversing by Trucy’s dressing table - Phoenix Wright and Vera Misham.

Phoenix turned at the sound of the door opening. His eyes widened slightly when he saw who it was. “This is becoming a real party now, hey, Truce?” he teased, lightly ruffling his daughter’s hair. Trucy stuck her tongue out at him, then went to carefully place Klavier’s flowers among the dozens of others by her costume rack. Phoenix’s expression tightened somewhat. “Prosecutor Gavin, it’s - it’s good to see you. Trucy swore she spotted you in the audience, but I guess my eyes were never as sharp as hers.”

“I know her party is tomorrow, but I wouldn’t dare pass up the chance to watch her birthday extravaganza,” Klavier said smoothly. He felt as if Vera’s eyes were burning holes in the side of his face.

“So you’re Prosecutor Gavin, huh?” The older Fey woman - Maya, if Klavier remembered correctly - sidled right up to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Trucy and Athena have told me all about you. I hear you’re different from the other prosecutors me and Nick had to deal with back in the day!��

The door opened behind Klavier. “Are you talking about us, Maya Fey?” He turned on his heel to see Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma standing in the doorway, both impeccably dressed as always, carrying identical bouquets of white lilies and blue delphinium in their arms.

“Auntie Franzy!” Trucy shrieked, barreling across the room to toss herself into Franziska’s arms, much like she had done to Klavier just moments ago. “Daddy said you weren’t gonna fly in until tomorrow!”

“And miss your performance? I would be a foolishly foolish fool if I did,” Franziska huffed, kissing Trucy on the cheek. “You will receive the rest of our presents tomorrow. I hear your fool of a father refuses to let you wear makeup despite the fact that you’d like to, and I am here to rectify that parenting mistake. You’re eighteen now, after all; you should be able to do as you please.”

“Within reason,” Edgeworth added, shooting Franziska a withering look. “Don’t encourage her too much, Franziska. I think we're all too familiar with Trucy’s...imagination.”

“Miles Edgeworth, how dare you question my - ”

Klavier quickly retreated into a corner of the dressing room as everyone’s voices grew louder and louder; clearly, his presence had been completely forgotten. He spotted the younger Fey woman, Pearl, conversing with the sad-looking girl - Jinxie, he heard her name was - while Maya and Detective Gumshoe chatted happily with Edgeworth and Franziska. Trucy had left to sign autographs for her fans, leaving Phoenix to turn back to Vera, who was still eyeing Klavier warily.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Klavier startled suddenly at the sound of Athena’s voice. He turned to see her perched on the vanity, legs swinging over the edge, smiling at him encouragingly. “You seem a little lost, Prosecutor Gavin. Everything okay?”

Sighing, Klavier leaned against the wall, glancing down at the toes of his Doc Martens. “Don’t tell me Herr Blackquill asked you to keep an eye on me.”

“Hardly!” Athena exclaimed; she almost seemed offended by his insinuation. “You just seem a little...quiet, that’s all.”

“Well…” Klavier looked back up, shooting her a stilted smile. “Everyone here is either someone I don’t know, someone I work with, or someone whose life I ruined. Forgive me for feeling a little...cornered.”

“C’mon, you didn’t ruin their lives,” Athena said, hopping down so she could lightly punch him in the arm. “I heard the whole story from Apollo ages ago, and he says it wasn’t you. He says you were just a…a schachfigur in someone else’s game.”

“A pawn, in other words.” Klavier chuckled despite himself. “Ja, if you want to be generous about it...or if you want to say that I’m easily swayed. Did Herr Forehead really say that?”

“He sure did! He talks about you all the time,” Athena added with an enthusiastic nod. “I mean, you annoy him - a lot - but he’s always mentioning how decent and honest you are. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think, well...nah, probably not.”

“Probably not,” Klavier echoed, trying his best to ignore his racing heart. The last thing he wanted to do was have hope. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be sticking around much longer. Don’t want to get in the way.”

“Huh? You’re not getting in the way of anything!” Athena protested. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

Klavier shook his head, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up, smoothing out the creases in his hoodie. “Nein, I should make an early night of it. I have to meet my personal trainer bright and early, after all. But I’ll see you at Trucy’s party tomorrow, ja?”

Athena hesitated. “Ja, of course,” she chirped, plastering on an uncertain smile. “And hey, if you ever need a running partner, you have my number!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Klavier promised, surprising himself by how true that was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone running with someone who wasn’t his personal trainer. “Gute Nacht, fräulein.”

“G’night,” Athena said, squeezing his shoulder before letting him go. Nodding, Klavier deftly weaved his way through the crowded dressing room and slipped out the door. A few heads turned his way, but no one seemed interested in saying their goodbyes, nor was he all that interested in offering his own, either. The moment he stepped into the corridor, he heard a startled gasp, a choked breath, that almost made him jump.

“Ach - my apologies, I didn’t mean to - Trucy?”

Leaning against the wall opposite her dressing room door was Trucy, her eyes wide and suspiciously wet. “Oh - Mr. Gavin, d-don’t tell me you’re leaving already!”

“I have a session with my - are you alright, fräulein?” Klavier asked, closing the door behind him, then approaching her slowly, carefully. “You look…”

“ - like I’ve been crying?” Trucy let out a wet laugh, pulling a tissue out of nowhere and hastily wiping her eyes. “Don’t you cry after a big performance, Mr. Gavin? You know, that rush of adrenaline, that boost of energy, that feeling of relief - it’s all a part of being a performer! Especially on a stage as big as this!”

“Natürlich, I’ve absolutely wept tears of joy after a gut show. But this?” Klavier gestured in her direction. “This...it’s something else, isn’t it?”

“I - it’s just…” Trucy sniffled. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Klavier said softly. “Though maybe Herr Wright should hear this another time, too.”

“I don’t wanna bother Daddy,” Trucy said, shaking her head. “Besides, I...I don’t wanna make him feel bad!”

“Bad?” Klavier repeated, confused. “What do you mean?”

Trucy took a moment to blow her nose. Then, she managed a small smile in Klavier’s direction. “It’s stupid, but...when I was in there earlier, and I-I saw all of my friends and family together, I started thinking about...you know. The rest of my family. All of the Gramaryes, all gone.” She sniffled noisily again. “Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa, they - th-they never got to see me grow up. And Uncle Valant, he’s still in prison, a-and - so now it’s just me. Just me. I have to carry on the family legacy, but no one’s here to teach me how!”

Klavier’s eyes widened in shock. “Trucy…”

“But if I tell Daddy - Phoenix, I mean - that I’ve been thinking about Mommy and Daddy, he’s gonna...I just can’t,” Trucy continued, shaking her head vehemently. “If he finds out, he’s gonna feel like...like he failed me. And he didn’t, not one bit, but - when I first started living with him, he said he felt like that all the time. Like he was doing it all wrong.” She swallowed, but her throat seemed to be stuck. “And...I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about Apollo, too.”

“You were?” Klavier asked, his mouth twisting. “Why?”

“I know I’ve only known him for a few years, but...it feels like I’ve known him forever. Like we were always meant to be best friends, you know?” Trucy was now fiddling with the ends of her cape, avoiding Klavier’s eyes. “It’s my birthday, a-and he’s not here. He called yesterday to say he wouldn’t be able to talk today, so we had a little celebration together, just the two of us. It was nice, but it just...it wasn’t the same.”

“He’ll come back eventually, ja?” Klavier said gently. “You said that was part of his plan.”

“‘Eventually’ is looking further and further away,” Trucy said with a wry smile. “But I-I know I gotta be okay with it. He’s doing really important stuff in Khura’in, after all!” She then nudged him. “You should call him sometime - he’s talked about some really cool cases that I bet you’d be interested in.”

“I doubt he’d want to hear from me, of all people, especially if he’s as busy as he sounds,” Klavier chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Mr. Gavin,” Trucy teased, elbowing him again. “He only just told me yesterday that he misses you…‘in a weird way’. That’s practically a glowing review, coming from Polly!”

Klavier felt his heartbeat race once more. “Ah, well, then maybe I should consider it. How could I not, when I might get to hear such generous praise myself?” Trucy burst into laughter, her face finally relaxing for the first time since Klavier had approached her.

They lingered in companionable silence for a moment, hearing nothing but their own steadying breaths and the muffled sounds of what seemed like absolute chaos coming from inside Trucy’s dressing room. Klavier wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why it sounded like Franziska was lecturing at least three different people at the same time. “Thanks for hearing me out, Mr. Gavin.”

“Bitte schön, though I’m not sure if I was any help at all,” Klavier admitted.

“Of course you were!” Trucy exclaimed, straightening up. “I feel better now, honest. Just talking about all that stuff really helped, even if I’m still not exactly sure what to do.”

“Hopefully you will soon, ja?” Klavier moved away from the wall, flashing her a genuine smile. “But if you ask me, you’re already doing a wunderschön job of upholding the Gramarye name, and I’m sure if you talk to Herr Wright about how you’re feeling, he’d say the same thing. Don’t be so hard on yourself, fräulein.”

Trucy hesitated. Then, she stepped forward to hug Klavier, holding him a little tighter than last time. He automatically held her closer, too. “See you tomorrow?” she mumbled against his shoulder.

“Of course,” Klavier promised. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_____

“How is he doing, that defense attorney of yours?”

Klavier looked up from the box he was packing. He found it almost too easy to get distracted in here, to feel a wave of nostalgia crash over him as he packed away the books and toys that once filled his childhood playroom. There were already paint swatches on the wall, a collection of wood stain samples sitting by his feet, but he wasn’t quite ready to see it transformed into something else, for the room to belong to someone other than him. “He’s not mine, Mama, he’s just a friend. And he’s fine, if a little stressed. Er, make that a lot stressed.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Even just hearing it secondhand, I can tell that boy needs a break.”

“I’ve told him as much,” Klavier said dryly. “We talk most days, you know. He’s just stubborn, won’t listen to anyone - least of all me.”

“If you talk most days, then he must listen to you to some degree, yes?” she pointed out, momentarily crossing the room so she could crack open a window. “How long has he been away now?”

“Almost seven months, I think,” Klavier replied, turning back to what he was doing. “Though we’ve been talking for...around three at this point. If it wasn’t for Trucy, I...I don’t think I would have ever tried. Even now, I feel like I take up too much of his time when he could be going to bed early or doing something more productive.”

“Ah, Klavier.” He looked back up to see his mother had returned to his side; her hand went to the top of his head, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Why is it so hard for you to understand when people care about you, hm? Aside from the screaming fans, I mean.”

“Mama,” Klavier complained, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Achtung, it’s nothing like that. All I’m saying is, we were never close to begin with. I’m sure he’d rather talk to Trucy or get his advice from Herr Wright.”

Frowning, she withdrew her hand from Klavier’s hair. “I don’t know what I would say to that man if I were to ever meet him. Where would I even begin?”

“I...ah…” Klavier busied himself with the collection of picture books he’d been rifling through earlier, smiling faintly at the sight of his name scrawled on the inside covers in barely legible chicken scratch. “...I have that same thought, and I see him all the time. I suppose an apology is in order, but...I don’t know if he would even want to hear it.”

“To think Kris ruined far more lives than just the ones he’d taken,” she whispered, slowly sinking down to sit beside him. “To think he’d taken any lives at all, I - ”

“Mama, bitte - ”

“What did we do, Klavier?” she said forlornly, her voice thick with emotion. “Where did we go wrong? What could we have - ”

“Mama, Mama, breathe,” Klavier murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. “It wasn’t your fault, ja? Not yours, not Papa’s. Just his, and...a little bit of mine.”

“Hardly,” she insisted. She then cupped his face in her hands, looking up at him with watery eyes and a bittersweet smile. “Don’t let anyone blame you for what he did, darling, especially not yourself. Promise?”

“Ich verspreche,” Klavier said obediently, tilting his chin down so she could kiss his forehead. She then released him with a satisfied nod, turning back the box she’d been working on earlier; in doing so, she missed the way Klavier’s face fell. He cleared his throat. “So...a crafting room, ja? What kind of projects did you have in mind?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, humming. “I want to try a few things - cross-stitching, beadwork, paper crafting...we’ll have to see what sticks. If any of them stick.”

“You’re not retired yet, Mama,” Klavier reminded her. “I’m exhausted just listening to you and Papa talk about what you’ve been up to - I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re exhausted? I’m exhausted just listening to what you’ve been up to,” she teased. “You’re not the only prosecutor in the district, baby, so why do you work like you are? Go out, live a little. Or stay in, I suppose, whatever you prefer.”

“I like being busy,” Klavier said defensively. “And I enjoy my work, you know that.”

“I just wish you enjoyed more than just working, that’s all,” she said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “You know what they say - don’t turn your hobbies into a career. But you went ahead and did that anyway, and now you don’t have any hobbies left!”

“I have plenty of hobbies, danke very much,” Klavier chuckled. “Cooking, working out...and I’m not exactly in the music business anymore, so I’d say that’s back to being a hobby, ja?”

“How about friends?” she suggested. “All I hear about is the people who work for you or the people who work with you.”

“That’s just how it goes,” Klavier said with a rueful grimace. “Making friends as an adult...it’s hard. But I mean it, mir geht's gut. You have nothing to worry about, not with me.”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “But I’m going to worry, anyway.” She then stood, smoothing out the front of her shirt. “We should probably get going with lunch before your papa gets home, yes? We’ll continue with this later.”

“Ja, Mama, natürlich,” Klavier replied, also getting to his feet. He cast one last lingering glance in the direction of the picture books - for it wasn’t just his messy, childish handwriting inside, but Kristoph’s neat cursive as well - before following her out into the hallway.

_____

Time, Klavier mused to himself every so often, never really made sense to him. He liked being on time, of course, he liked the precision of it, especially when it came to music. He was proud of his natural affinity for rhythm, for keeping time. It was why he excelled at piano and guitar lessons at an early age, why the numerous vocal coaches he’d had in his life found him particularly easy to work with. But it always caught him off-guard whenever things seemed to speed up or slow down or even come to a complete standstill whenever they pleased. Twenty-four years of his life, changed, when he learned about his brother’s true nature. Seven years of his band, gone, when his best friend turned out to be a criminal as well. And now, an entire year that felt like five, all because Apollo wasn’t here.

“You should just ask him out already,” Ema had said to him one evening, over drinks. “I know his name is misleading, but he’s just a person, not a god. What’re you so scared of?”

“I’m not fond of wasps or small spaces,” Klavier had drawled, smirking at Ema’s infuriated scowl as he took a sip of his beer. Still, he knew she had a point. As blunt as Apollo could be, Klavier doubted he would be cruel about turning someone down. It also didn’t help that these days, he was starting to get his hopes up, now that he and Apollo talked on a daily basis. He still wasn’t sure how it had happened, aside from Trucy’s encouragement and his own impulses, but he couldn’t be more thrilled that it had.

“Two more months until I’m out of here...I think,” Apollo amended, yawning, his face filling up Klavier’s entire laptop screen. He looked good, Klavier though, even better than usual - during his time in Khura’in, Apollo had gotten more sun; his skin was a few shades darker, his freckles especially more prominent across the bridge of his nose. His hair was longer, too, mostly in the back, and his wardrobe had slowly evolved into an aesthetically pleasing mix of American street style and Khura’inese casualwear. Apollo had also mentioned a few times that he had built up some muscle, especially in his calves and shoulders, now that he had to walk everywhere and carry his fully-loaded bag wherever he went. Klavier tried not to think about how much he was looking forward to seeing it for himself in person.

“You’re sure now?” Klavier asked. “You’ve said that before.”

“Pretty sure,” Apollo said, chuckling. “Nahyuta even bought me a plane ticket, like he can’t wait for me to leave.”

“I’m sure he’ll miss you all the same,” Klavier replied. “And he’s used to flying back and forth, so I doubt you’ll be apart for long.”

“I think I’m gonna miss him, too,” Apollo admitted, tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie. It always gave Klavier a little thrill whenever he saw Apollo wearing it - after all, it was once his, having sent it to Apollo via a care package that Trucy had put together a while ago. Though their upper bodies were comparable in width, Apollo was significantly shorter, which meant the hoodie seemed to completely swallow him up. “It’s weird, looking back on it. How different we were when we were kids - like, both as people and as brothers - and yet...some things never changed. I don’t even know how to explain it, I just...I just know.”

“Something only the two of you can understand, I’m sure,” Klavier said diplomatically. He’d heard many stories about Apollo and Nahyuta’s childhood by now, sometimes accompanied by the occasional mention of Dhurke. Even now, he found it hard to picture; he wasn’t too familiar with Nahyuta, but the thought of him and Apollo chasing each other across mountainous hills or searching for frogs along the riverbanks seemed unlikely, yet it happened all the same. “You have a good relationship with him by now, I take it?”

“Definitely,” Apollo nodded. He then leaned in close to the camera, his voice dropping to an exaggerated whisper. “I’ve even grown on Rayfa, and though she'll never admit it, I think she kinda misses Mr. Wright.”

Klavier laughed. “Charmed her, have you? I’m not surprised. You can be...persuasive when you want to be.”

“You make me sound like a conman,” Apollo snorted, leaning back in his seat. “Give me a little credit, will you?”

“Ja, ja, fair enough,” Klavier said, holding his hands up in surrender. “After all, you did have a client ask you out once. Clearly, you have some natural appeal.”

“It’s happened twice, actually,” Apollo said, shuddering. “I don’t know what I did to make either of ‘em think I was remotely interested, but I shut them down fast.”

“You saved their lives,” Klavier pointed out. “It might be their...misguided way of showing their gratitude. Besides, you’re not half-bad. Some might even say you’re...attractive.”

“And the compliments just keep on rolling in.” Apollo got up from his seat, momentarily blocking the camera as he unplugged his laptop from its charger and carried it over to his bed. He sat cross-legged by his pillows, yawning and stretching luxuriously. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Gavin.”

“If you’re fishing for praise, Forehead, you only have to ask,” Klavier teased. “Let’s see, should we talk about the impressive way that your voice cracks every so often when you shout, which is all the time? What about the fact that you only seem to own one tie in the most outlandish shade of blue I’ve ever seen? Or how, every single time, without fail, you always push on the courthouse entrance doors despite the fact that they’re clearly marked ‘pull’ - ”

“You are such a dick,” Apollo sighed, shaking his head.

“ - you managed to get food poisoning at two different events for the prosecutor’s office,” Klavier continued; if he wasn’t enjoying himself earlier, he certainly was now. “Ah, remember that time you ripped your pants at a crime scene? Good thing it was a thrift store, ja? But if you ask me, corduroy bell bottoms don’t quite suit you. You don’t have the height for flared hems.”

“...I think you’ve gone just a little off-track here,” Apollo drawled. “Take it back now, Gavin, you were s’posed to be saying nice stuff, remember? Like, tell me I’m good at my job or something.”

“You make the perfekt lawyer,” Klavier said in the most serious tone he could muster, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. “After all, you just love to pick a fight.”

“Don’t think I won’t hang up on you,” Apollo said, yawning again as he half-flopped over onto his side, pillowing his hands beneath his cheek. For what felt like the thousandth time, Klavier found himself wishing he was in Khura’in, too.

“You say that every time, and you’ve never followed through,” Klavier reminded him. “Fine, you want a real compliment, Forehead?”

“That’s what I was asking for,” Apollo mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled.

“I think…” Klavier hesitated. “I think you might be one of my favorite people in the whole world.”

Apollo’s eyes flew open. “Huh? You...y-you really think so?”

“Would I be talking to you all the time if you weren’t?” Klavier chuckled. “How much free time do you think I have on my hands, hm?”

“Yeah, but - b-but still,” Apollo protested weakly. Klavier delighted in the way Apollo’s cheeks reddened, the way his nose scrunched up, the way his brows furrowed in an attempt to look irritated instead of embarrassed. “We only really became friends, like, uh...eight-ish months ago, so…”

“So nichts,” Klavier said derisively. “I say what I mean and I mean what I say, ja?”

Apollo shot him a drowsy smile. “Thanks, Gavin. It’s...actually kinda flattering.” He yawned yet again, curling up on top of his pillows. “Hey, I just remembered - you had your evaluation with Mr. Edgeworth just now, right? How’d that go, did you get three gold stars and an extra cookie to go with your juicebox like you wanted?”

“Call the prosecutor’s office a preschool just one time, all because Herr Debeste decided to bring Ritz crackers to the office potluck, and now you can’t let it go...and move on,” Klavier added, smirking; Apollo lifted a hand to flip him off. “It’s the usual with Herr Edgeworth, really - ‘excellent work, Prosecutor Gavin, nothing new to report’. Whenever I ask him if there’s anything more I can do, any way in which I can improve...I get nothing. It’s like he wants me out of his office as soon as possible.”

“I doubt it,” Apollo said quietly. “I know you keep saying over and over again that he blames you for what happened to Mr. Wright - but he doesn’t. Even if he did at one point, no one does anymore, alright? We know what happened, we know who it was, a-and it wasn’t you.” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking Klavier right in the eye. “Mr. Edgeworth doesn’t have suggestions for you ‘cos...you’re good at what you do. Somehow, you, Mister Euro-Rocker, are the most normal person at the prosecutor’s office. All anyone can accuse you of is, like, self-promotion, grandstanding, and wall slamming. Why do you do that, anyway?”

“I had a kickboxing phase,” Klavier said, laughing wetly. “That was surprisingly touching, Forehead, danke. Don’t we all aspire to be ‘the most normal person’ in any situation, achtung.”

“So you’re saying in some alternate universe, you would leg slam the prosecutor’s bench instead?” Apollo said dryly. “What would that even look like?”

“Gott if I know,” Klavier replied, continuing to laugh. “Anyway, should I let you go now? You look like you’re going to fall asleep at any second.”

“I’m fine.” Apollo slumped back down against his pillows, then let out an exaggerated exhale. “Though I wouldn’t, uh. I wouldn’t complain if you sang me to sleep, either.”

Klavier straightened up in his seat, surprised. “Again? I didn’t think you actually meant it last time, until it worked.”

“Your voice is, y’know...decent,” Apollo said, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “I have to listen to it for, like, two hours a day, after all. Going on and on about ‘ah, Herr Forehead, my bike didn’t start again’, or ‘I got a free drink at the courthouse café because the cute barista recognized me, can you believe it’ - oh, and we can’t forget the classic ‘you wouldn’t believe how terrible my hair looks today, I don’t know if I should turn my camera on’ - ”

“I take offense to that last one,” Klavier protested. “You’ve done the exact same thing to me! Remember when there was a thunderstorm - ”

“A Khura’inese thunderstorm, one of the worst the country’s ever seen, versus you having a, quote-unquote, ‘bad hair day’ ‘cos you woke up on the wrong side of the silk pillowcase. Very comparable,” Apollo drawled. “Go on, then, Gavin, give me a lullaby.”

Klavier steeled himself, taking a deep breath. Then, in the throatiest, most operatic voice he could muster, he began to sing. “Guten abend, gut nacht, mit rosen bedacht - ”

“Screw off, you - ” Apollo was doubled over, clutching at his stomach; the sound of his laugh, as cliché as it was, was music to Klavier’s ears. “Shit, I-I can’t even be mad at that one, that was on me. Okay, let’s not do a lullaby, just give me, like...something slow.”

Klavier hummed thoughtfully as he watched Apollo settle back down, drawing his duvet up over his shoulders. “Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style someday...dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way…” It didn’t take long for Apollo to fall asleep, his breath slowly evening out as he did. He looked peaceful in a way that he never did when he was awake. Smiling to himself, Klavier went to end the call. “Gute Nacht, liebe.”

_____

“For the love of everything, can you please stop bouncing your leg like that?”

“Ah - ” Klavier clamped his hand down onto his thigh, offering her a nervous smile. “My apologies, fräulein, I didn’t realize it was so cold in here. Does Herr Wright have a habit of leaving the air conditioning on? I didn’t think this office even had air conditioning, to be honest.”

Ema side-eyed him derisively; the effect was slightly ruined by the huge bouquet of roses she had sitting in her lap. They were practically tickling her chin. “...cold, right. That’s what’s going on, not the fact that we’re here to surprise Apollo on his way back from the airport.”

Klavier was very tempted to glare back. He liked to think he was an amiable person, but Ema challenged that notion every time they spoke. “Why did you decide to return early, anyway? Was Herr Sahdmadhi getting on your nerves?”

“Oh, please,” Ema snorted. “Sorry, Gavin, you’re still the problem child of the prosecutor’s office to me. No, I left early ‘cos...well, because I could. Besides, I missed this one over here.” She lightly elbowed the person on her other side, who giggled sweetly in response.

“Long-distance suuucks,” Kay agreed, dropping her head onto Ema’s shoulder and shooting her an affectionate grin. “Now that Em’s back for good, we can finally look into getting a place together!”

“Have you started yet?” Klavier asked, curious. “Because my area has a few - ”

“Um, I-I think a taxi just pulled up outside!” Klavier turned to squint through the darkness in the direction of the front window, where Juniper, Vera, and the Fey women were hidden, lifting their heads every so often to peek through the blinds. Thankfully, Vera seemed less nervous around him these days; he hated the thought of making her uncomfortable, especially when there was nothing he could do about it but wait. He’d tried approaching her on the rare occasions they were in the same room together, but more often than not, they both ended up tongue-tied. “I see Thena, and Apollo, and Trucy...oh, there’s Mr. Wright! I think Trucy made him tip the driver extra, heh.”

Klavier’s heart seemed to be in his throat as he, Ema, and Kay crouched down behind Apollo’s desk, while the others went to duck behind Phoenix’s and Athena’s desks as well. It had been so long, so long that he’d nearly forgotten some of the little things that just didn’t quite translate via phone call or video chat - how tall Apollo really was, how loud he could truly be; the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed, or how he absent-mindedly played with his bracelet more often than Klavier suspected he realized himself. He had to stop himself from letting out a hysterical laugh when he remembered how, the last time he saw Apollo in person, he’d flipped Klavier off. How appropriate, Klavier thought somewhat dazedly, shaking his head. And now -

“...huh, so I really did leave my jacket here. Guess it doesn’t matter since I never wore it, anyway. I’m more of a suit vest kinda guy, you know? So, what are we - ” The light flickered on. All at once, the agency seemed to explode with noise as everyone jumped out from behind the desks.

“SURPRISE!” Several party poppers, courtesy of Maya and Kay, went off simultaneously, which only added to the chaos.

“ - argh - what the - ?!”

“Wh-whoa, Polly, watch your head! You almost knocked over Mr. Charley!”

“Forget Charley, I-I almost twisted my ankle just now, shit - ” Apollo managed to find his footing again, half-leaning against the back of the couch to keep himself propped up while he caught his breath, his hand clasped over his presumably racing heart. Klavier could only stare at him, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. Ema was side-eyeing him again, but by now, he really didn’t care.

Of course, Klavier had known for a few weeks now that today was the day, but to see Apollo standing - well, somewhat collapsing - in front of him was something else entirely. Clearly, Apollo’s laptop webcam and spotty internet connection hadn’t done him justice, not the healthy glow of his skin, nor the shine of his hair. He was wearing a Khura’inese tunic and joggers with both the sleeves and pant hems rolled up, revealing just how muscular he’d become. However, what intrigued Klavier most of all was the familiar-looking hoodie in Apollo’s arms.

“Hey, stranger,” Ema said, lightly punching Apollo in the shoulder, then unceremoniously shoving the bouquet of roses into his arms despite the fact he was still holding the handle of his rolling luggage bag. He nearly dropped it on his own foot in an attempt to grab the flowers in time. “It’s weird, right? I’m still getting used to, like, mega-grocery stores and smog all over again.”

“Considering I’ve only been inside an airport, a taxi, and the agency so far, I can’t say I’ve had time to adjust, no,” Apollo said dryly. He then frowned. “Er, Ms. Fey, a-are you filming all this?”

Maya grinned almost manically over the top of her phone. “Yup! Blame Trucy and Athena - they wanted to get your reaction on camera, and ooh, you did not disappoint.”

Apollo deflated even further. “...glad I could entertain you all.” He then straightened up, approaching Juniper and Vera first to chat with them amicably while the others fell back to talk amongst themselves. Trucy sidled up next to Klavier with the brightest grin she’d had in months.

“I still can’t believe he’s finally here,” Trucy admitted. “It was starting to feel like he was never coming back, you know?”

“He looks...surprisingly refreshed for someone who’s been sitting on a plane for Gott knows how long,” Klavier chuckled, smoothing out the creases in the front of his shirt. He then shot Trucy a soft smile. “You must be thrilled.”

“Ecstatic!” Trucy chirped, nodding enthusiastically. “There are some tricks Athena just refuses to help with, but I bet Apollo wouldn’t mind if I volunteered him for the job!”

“That’s not the only reason you missed him and you know it,” Klavier said gently.

Trucy’s cheeks reddened; she shot him a sheepish smile. “...I-I may have cried at the airport. It was a total mess, ‘cos me and Athena were crying, and then Apollo started crying, and there was tears and snot everywhere, a-and Daddy got it all on tape, too. He said it was like we were trying to set the record for world’s longest hug!”

“That’s very sweet, fräulein,” Klavier murmured. “I’m sure it was quite the scene.”

“What was quite the scene?” They startled at the sound of a new voice, turning to see Apollo standing before them. The first thing Klavier couldn’t help but think, stupidly enough, was that Apollo looked taller somehow - he seemed to be holding his head higher, his chest prouder, though it also helped that he was wearing a heavy pair of brown leather boots with a thick sole. Klavier’s heart thumped pathetically in his chest at the sight of Apollo’s warm, curious eyes, now fixed on his face in confusion.

“Your reunion, or so I hear,” Klavier said smoothly, taking a few steps closer. His eyes flickered down to Apollo’s arms, half-folded in front of his torso; he was still holding onto the hoodie. “And I see I’ve done a good job of keeping you warm while you were away, Herr Forehead.” He sensed Trucy, Ema, and Kay exchanging bewildered glances behind him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I got some pretty nice handmade blankets in Khura’in,” Apollo chuckled, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his unstyled hair. Klavier was more used to seeing it without gel than with it at this point, given how most of their video calls had taken place during Apollo’s evenings. “But, uh...thanks. You sure you don’t want it back?”

“Ah, nein, it’s all yours now,” Klavier replied. “But if you’re in need of more clothes that aren’t from the children’s section, I’d be more than happy to provide.”

Apollo snorted, shaking his head. “You’re such a dick.” Then, to just about everyone’s surprise, he took the last few steps to close the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Klavier, burying his face against Klavier’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “...it’s good to see you, Gavin.”

Klavier stood still for a moment, stunned, before returning the hug, holding him tighter than either of them expected, resting his chin on top of Apollo’s head. He smelled faintly of fruit and dirt and sweat, though Klavier didn’t mind one bit. “Ich habe dich vermisst,” he mumbled into Apollo’s hair, letting out a relieved exhale. “I’m glad you’re back.”

A little over an hour later, their rather large group of people - made even larger with the addition of Edgeworth and Simon, who had been held up in a work incident that, from the sound of it, was entirely Payne’s fault - found themselves at an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant, arguing over whether to order more salmon or more unagi while they drank beer, or in Trucy and Pearl’s case, soda. Their table was crowded, to be sure, and it was definitely the loudest in the entire restaurant, but with Edgeworth footing the bill, insisting no expense be spared, their servers didn’t seem to mind too much.

“God, you’re obvious.” Klavier turned to see Ema pointing her chopsticks at him rather threateningly. “Y’know, if you wanted to sit with Apollo, you should’ve just said so instead of sitting here and staring at him like a pining Austen heroine.”

“You really should be careful with those,” Klavier commented, gently pushing her hand away. “And it’s fine, he obviously wants to sit with Trucy and Athena. We have time to chat later, ja?”

Sighing, Ema turned back to her plate, stuffing a piece of tamago into her mouth in the most irritated manner Klavier had ever seen someone eat. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering,” she said, taking a generous gulp of her beer. “Look, Gavin, I - you know I was there, on the other end of things. I saw how...how happy he looked after your phone calls, whenever you sent him a text...all I’m saying is, sitting around and doing nothing like you did before? You really think that’s gonna work?”

“The last thing he needs is for me to bother him while he’s still settling in,” Klavier said diplomatically. “Like I said, we’ll have time to talk...later. Let him breathe, bitte. He literally just got here.”

Ema’s mouth twisted. “I really don’t get you sometimes.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Klavier now. “Like, I’m trying to imagine some world in which I don’t tell Kay how I feel about her, and...I can’t do it. It’s physically, emotionally, scientifically impossible. My entire life would be different, you know?”

“With you and Kay, you knew the feeling was mutual from the start, ja?” Klavier glanced across the table, where Apollo was cracking up over some joke Athena had just told. “As for me...I still can’t be sure. Even with what you just said, it’s no guarantee. And I think, for the time being, we’re...we’re glücklich this way. We’re friends. Close friends, even.”

“He talked to you more than everyone else combined,” Ema reminded him. “I only managed to talk to Kay maybe twice a week if we were lucky.” Kay leaned around Ema to nod affirmatively in Klavier’s direction, a stray udon noodle hanging from her mouth. “But whatever, I’m really only telling you for Apollo’s sake. If this was just about you, I guarantee I wouldn’t care.”

“Sure, fräulein, whatever you say,” Klavier chuckled. “So, you were saying something earlier about apartments - ”

“Hey, Gavin.” Once again, Klavier nearly gave himself whiplash at the sound of Apollo’s voice; he wasn’t sure when Apollo had gotten out of his seat and come to their side of the table, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. “Sorry to interrupt, it’s just - can I talk to you for a sec? Outside, maybe?”

“Er - ja, sure.” Klavier shot Ema an apologetic smile, though she’d already gone back to stealing pieces of ginger off of Kay’s plate. He then followed Apollo through the restaurant and out the front door, the two of them coming to a stop on the sidewalk. “What’s this all about, then?”

“Nothing, I just - I needed some air,” Apollo admitted, taking a generous deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong, I-I’m glad to see everyone again, but it’s a little...crowded back there. And loud.”

“Very true,” Klavier agreed, leaning against the exterior wall. “So...I’m surprised you’re still standing. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Ridiculously so,” Apollo chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll crash in like, a few hours. Mr. Wright’s couch could be a literal rock, and I’ll still be out cold for the next...I dunno, week? Month?”

“You mentioned something about getting an apartment in your old building, ja?” Klavier mused. “When’s that happening?”

“I move in next week...if I’m awake by then, that is,” Apollo added dryly. He then smirked. “You offering to help, Gavin?”

Klavier leaned in close, his own teasing smile playing on his lips. “If you want me, just let me know, Herr Forehead.” He couldn’t help but feel a little thrill go through him when Apollo’s pupils darkened considerably in response.

“I’ll, uh...I’ll keep that in mind,” Apollo replied, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. Klavier found himself momentarily distracted by the motion. “Hey, uh - what were you and Ema talking about before I cut in?”

Klavier paused for a little longer than he would've liked. “I...was asking her about her plans to find a new place with Kay. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s only happening now. They’ve been together for years, after all.”

“True, but...if it works for them, I guess,” Apollo shrugged. “Did you guys ever get around to playing laser tag?”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung?”

“Before we left, remember?” Apollo said, biting back a laugh. “Ema told me to ask you if you wanted to do drinks or laser tag, so did you and Kay...y’know, hang out without us? Or have you been waiting for us to get back?”

“Ah, that,” Klavier said, laughing as well. “Nein, we never did get around to it, though we’ve had the occasional drink together. Remember that story I told you a few months ago, the one where she - ”

“ - where she got kicked out of the bar ‘cos she accidentally gave them a fake ID she’d been holding onto as evidence, yeah,” Apollo snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds like something that could literally happen to any of us.” He straightened up, taking a couple of steps back so he could clear his throat. “Anyway, we should hang out after I recover from my inevitable jetlag. Like, the four of us, I mean.”

“Er - right, ja, the four of us,” Klavier nodded, faltering slightly. Apollo looked at him questioningly but didn’t say anything, instead turning his gaze towards the street for a moment, watching the cars and the occasional motorcycle go by. Klavier supposed he was still getting used to all the noise again, or rather, the different kinds of noise. He’d heard the evening sounds of Khura’in through the phone many times, especially when Apollo went for a late-night walk and “brought” Klavier with him for company. It had been relatively peaceful, serene, in a way that California was decidedly not. “Apollo, I...do you want to…maybe we could...”

“Yeah?” Apollo looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Klavier coughed. “...never mind. Maybe another time, when you’re not so tired, ja?”

“Oh.” Apollo frowned slightly. “Uh, sure.” He then brightened, gently nudging Klavier’s arm. “Hey, but maybe we can make a thing out of my move-in day, make it a casual housewarming hangout or whatever. You interested?”

“Always,” Klavier said softly, nudging him back. Grinning, Apollo wordlessly beckoned for Klavier to follow him back inside, back to their table. He didn’t need to glance in Ema’s direction to know she looked as disappointed in him as he felt.

_____

“Ach, Klavier. You’re pouting more than your cousin Ingrid, and she’s barely seven years old.”

Klavier looked up from his glass to shoot his father an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Papa. It’s just - the timing is unfortunate, you know? Er, not that I don’t want to be here. Anja and her new bride look wunderschön, and it’s been so long since we’ve had a wedding in the family - ”

“Now you sound like your Uncle Oskar,” his father chuckled, clapping Klavier good-naturedly on the shoulder. The two of them were standing in what looked and felt like a fairytale, in a sea of blossoming flowers and sparkling lights on a beautiful, crisp Saturday morning. In the distance, Klavier could see his cousin - or was she a second cousin, or a cousin once removed, he could never remember - and her wife posing for their wedding photographer by the park gazebo, while everyone else not-so-patiently waited to be called over for group photographs. All of the younger ones were especially moody, especially the aforementioned Ingrid, who had fallen and scraped her knee mere minutes before the ceremony. The poor girl had refused to let anyone put a bandaid on her, electing to sulk in silent solitude on a park bench instead. “I know you wanted to be with your friends today, but...there will be other days, yes?”

“Ja, ja, ich weiß,” Klavier replied. “Today is Apollo’s little housewarming get-together, it would've been nice to be there. But still, I wouldn’t miss Anja’s wedding for the world.” He then swallowed, glancing down at his feet. “That is, that’s how I felt before we got here. But achtung, now I feel like a caged animal. After all this time, do they really think - ”

“Not one person here thinks you’re going the same way,” his father interjected sharply, his eyes fierce behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You’re not him. You’re not. But their stares...unfortunately, I don’t think it can be helped.”

“The questions were so simple before,” Klavier muttered. “Remember when I came back for a couple of weeks, between legs of the Gavinners’ European tour, for cousin Leo’s wedding? All anyone wanted to know was - ‘ah, Klavier, how is your band doing? Are you still a prosecutor? When are you getting married?’. And now it’s - it’s ‘what’s going to happen to him now?’ and ‘what exactly is this dark age of the law everyone’s been talking about?’ and ‘did you know the whole time?’. It’s endless, ach.”

“Klavier - ”

“I didn’t ask for my life to revolve around his, okay?” Klavier managed to stop himself before he could shout; instead, his voice came out as a harsh whisper. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice, carrying on with their conversations while they waited for the newlyweds to call on them. “So if people are going to continue to talk, to stare, then I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. If I can’t have a normal conversation with my family members that aren’t you or Mama, then…” He shook his head; his hand was trembling, his champagne sloshing over the edge of his flute.

Sighing, his father squeezed Klavier’s shoulder a little firmer now. “...I can tell them you have a migraine if you’d like. Or how about a stomach bug? Though maybe a work emergency would sound a little more...dignified.”

Klavier let out a watery chuckle, clasping his hand over his father’s. “Danke, Papa, I appreciate it, but it’s fine. This is Anja’s day, not a day for me to whine and fuss. I can grin and bear it for her, ich verspreche. And I apologize for my...outburst.” His father shot him a sympathetic smile, then turned back to watch the happy couple while they waited for Klavier’s mother to return from the bathroom.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time Klavier collapsed face-first onto his bed, only to sit up in a panic for a moment, thinking he’d just smeared a full face of makeup onto his freshly-washed silk pillowcases, before remembering he’d managed to trudge his way through his skincare routine just moments ago. With a weary groan, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text message; mere seconds later, his phone began to ring.

“Forehead? I didn’t actually expect you to be up.”

“Mik’s being a literal scaredy-cat about living in a new place, so I’m probably not gonna be able to sleep anytime soon,” Apollo said with a weary sigh. “So, how was the rest of the wedding? All the photos you sent looked incredible!”

“What can I say? Gavins have good taste,” Klavier replied, chuckling. He rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling. “It was...perfekt, the epitome of classic fairytale romance, really. The kind of wedding you see in children’s books, you know?”

“Sure.” Apollo’s voice was warm in Klavier’s ear. “Hey - you, uh, you okay? You sound...off.”

“Ja, ja, I’m just tired,” Klavier said, frowning slightly at his outstretched hand. Despite getting them done yesterday, his nails were already starting to chip. “How long did everyone end up staying for?”

“They left a little before midnight,” Apollo replied, yawning. “Trucy has a matinee show tomorrow - or today, I guess - or else she probably would’ve insisted on sleeping over. Would’ve been kinda nice, actually, i-it’s always a little weird being alone in a new place for the first time. Though I guess this makes up for it.”

“What makes up for it?” Klavier asked, confused.

Apollo snorted. “This phone call, you dork. It’s like last year all over again, except we’re finally in the same time zone now.”

“Ah - right,” Klavier said, letting out an awkward laugh. “Ja, this is nice, though...I assume we’re not making this a habit again, are we?”

“Nah, definitely not. But, y’know, every now and then for old time’s sake? I wouldn’t, uh, I wouldn’t mind it.” Klavier shivered. Apollo’s voice had dropped to a low murmur; it almost sounded as if he were in the room with him. Klavier remembered Apollo making a snarky comment or two whenever he caught a glimpse of Klavier’s apartment during their video calls, leaving him to wonder whether Apollo would ever want to see it for himself. “So, you wanna do something next week? I’m still on co-counsel duty until I’m ready to take my own cases again, so my schedule’s not too hectic.”

“What did you have in mind?” Klavier hummed.

“I’m up for whatever - er, within reason,” Apollo added. “It could, well. It could even be just you and me, if you want.”

Klavier’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. “...I think I’d like that, ja. Drinks, maybe? Friday?”

“Yeah, uh - ” Apollo cleared his throat. “ - yeah, sounds good. Text me the time and place whenever, okay? Though I guess we’re probably gonna see each other before then, so.”

“Definitely,” Klavier said quietly, sucking in a breath to stop himself from making a potentially embarrassing noise - a squeak of joy, maybe, or a nervous laugh; either one would be terrible. “Should I let you go, then? We didn’t usually talk this late, even when you were on the other side of the world.”

“Very true,” Apollo said, punctuating Klavier’s point by yawning again. “I think Mik’s finally settled down, anyway.” Then, he seemed to hesitate. “...you sure you’re good, Gavin?”

“Mir geht's gut,” Klavier promised. This time, it felt more like the truth. Though his quiet anger from earlier hadn’t quite dissipated, he was calmer now, more at ease. “Family events just take a lot out of me, that’s all. Inevitable, given how big my extended family is.”

Apollo fell silent for a moment. “Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I, uh...I wouldn’t know.”

“I think it depends on the family,” Klavier admitted. This time, both of them went quiet, contemplating Klavier’s sentiment. “...anyway, let’s not carry on and ruin our sleep schedules, ja? Gute Nacht, Forehead.”

“G’night, Gavin,” Apollo said softly. “Talk to you tomorrow.” Despite the usual raspy quality of Apollo’s voice, not to mention how sharp it could get, Klavier found it immensely comforting at times, its warmth like a thick blanket - or, more accurately, an oversized hoodie. Mere minutes after they hung up, Klavier drifted off into a deep, restful sleep.

_____

Friday, it seemed, was not meant to be. Much to Klavier’s quiet disappointment - though obviously, he understood, given the circumstances - Apollo had to cancel their plans after getting some truly life-changing news.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin,” Apollo had stammered on the phone, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears. “I - she’s my - a-and her eyes - sh-she came to see us, me a-and - ”

“Slow down, Apollo, slow down,” Klavier had said gently. “What’s going on? What happened?”

Apollo had taken a big, shuddering inhale. Then, he spoke again. “...Trucy is my little sister...a-and Lamiroir is...she’s...she’s...she’s Thalassa Gramarye. Our mother.”

The news traveled quickly throughout their social circle; naturally, it was Trucy who told everyone else, while Apollo still seemed to be reeling in shock. No one seemed to know what to say, not with everything they knew about the twists and turns and tragedies of their respective family histories. A week passed, then another, and another, as the two Gramarye siblings took some time off to reunite with their mother. Klavier dropped by the Wright Anything Agency every so often, hoping to see how they were doing, only to find just Phoenix and Athena there.

“Apollo almost punched me...again,” Phoenix had said quietly. If it wasn't for the seriousness of his expression, Klavier would've asked about the first time. “It’s because I knew. I knew a long time ago. And Trucy, she can’t seem to decide whether she’s upset with me or not. Can’t say I blame her, though Thalassa and I had our reasons.”

“I’m sure you did, Herr Wright,” Klavier had replied sincerely, though he didn’t push further. After all, it wasn’t his family drama this time, and as far as he was concerned, knowing what their reasons were wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Phoenix had then paused. “She told me she talked to you, by the way. Trucy, that is.” He let out a hollow laugh. “Even when she didn’t know, it was like...like she already knew. But I shouldn’t be surprised, not with her. Never with her.” Clearing his throat, he shot Klavier a gentle, genuine smile. “Thanks for being there for her, Prosecutor Gavin. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Klavier had promised. “Herr Wright, before I go, I really should say something - ”

“If you’re about to do what I think you’re about to do...there’s no need,” Phoenix had interrupted, though not unkindly. “I’ve said it a few times, but I’ll say it again. Let’s put the past behind us, alright?”

Klavier had been taken aback. “...if you’re sure, then...ja, I hear you.”

Almost four weeks after Thalassa returned to her children’s lives, Klavier finally saw Apollo again, during a brief one-day trial. Once Apollo got his client acquitted, the two of them took a moment to sit on the courthouse steps together in stilted silence. “How is she?” Klavier asked. “How are you?”

“She’s…” Apollo sucked his breath in between his teeth. “...she’s still figuring things out. Remembering stuff. Trying to, uh...trying to learn how to be a mom to two adult children who...who grew up without her. And I dunno if it’s harder for me, o-or for Trucy, because I accepted my whole life that...that my mom just wasn’t around. But Trucy lost her. She knew her, loved her, lost her...and now she’s back. Not that it’s a competition, it’s just…” He managed to give Klavier a small smile. “We’ll be fine. It’s just weird and confusing a-and...but we’re fine. Sorry I’ve been so - ”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Klavier said, gently nudging him. “So, are you going to see her again today?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna drop by for dinner tonight,” Apollo replied. “We’ll hang out again soon, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about me, Forehead. Take care of yourself first, ja?” Klavier chuckled, patting Apollo’s knee. “Anyway, I should get going before the paparazzi catch wind of me. Auf Wiedersehen, baby. Have a good time tonight.” As he was leaving, he took a moment to watch Apollo walk over to the courthouse bike rack to join Trucy, who was patiently waiting for him. The moment she spotted him, she flung her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug, as if they’d been apart for years and not mere minutes.

The days continued to go by without them seeing much of each other, though they did continue to text on a regular basis, even having the occasional late-night phone call or two. Klavier also managed to chat with Trucy when he dropped by the agency one afternoon in the hopes that she would be there.

“I’m okay,” Trucy had told him. “We’re still getting used to it, but it’s definitely one of the best surprises I’ve ever had! I’ve been saying this whole time that Polly’s like a little big brother to me, and now…”

“And now it’s true,” Klavier had remarked, laughing. “I’m happy for all of you, fräulein, truly. And thinking back...what a strange family reunion. All because I invited her to perform with the Gavinners. Er, not to make this about me, of course.”

“Of course,” Trucy had echoed, giggling as well. “You would never do that.”

Klavier had rolled his eyes good-naturedly, which only served to make her laugh even harder. His expression then sobered. “Have you told either of them about...what you told me and Herr Wright?”

“Huh?...o-oh. That.” Trucy had fiddled with the ends of her cape, eyes fixated on the toes of her boots. “No, n-not yet. It’s too early. We only just discovered the truth, why would I ruin that with my silly problems?”

“They’re not silly at all,” Klavier had reassured her. “They’re...I know a little something about family legacy. Carrying a name that belongs to someone else. Talk to them about it when the time is right, ja?”

“I know, I know,” Trucy had mumbled, her voice small. She then perked up, plastering on a false smile that Klavier was all too familiar with. “You should join us someday, Prosecutor Gavin! I’m sure she’d like to see you again, and Polly’s been dying to spend more time with you.”

Klavier felt warm. “Really? Did he say that?”

“Well, not in so many words,” Trucy had said sheepishly. “But we’ve been so busy with Mom lately that neither of us has really had time to hang out with people other than Daddy and Athena, y’know? So...maybe we could do another group dinner or something.”

And so, a little over a month and a half after their canceled plans, Trucy managed to get a smaller group of people together - her, Apollo, Athena, Klavier, Simon, Pearl, Juniper, Ema, and Kay, to be exact - for a rather chaotic visit to their nearest night market. Considering how narrow the pathways were, how packed the food stalls could be, it was hard for them to move as a collective through the crowds.

“We might have an easier time if we split up,” Apollo suggested. “And, uh, as a bonus, people would stop glaring at us for holding up literally every line.” And so, everyone divided themselves into pairs - or a trio, in Athena, Simon, and Juniper’s case - and went on their way.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with Trucy?” Klavier asked once he and Apollo were in line for freshly-made takoyaki.

“Listen, and I say this with love, but I’ve been looking forward to hanging out with someone who isn’t Trucy for once,” Apollo said, chuckling. “Besides, we never got around to getting drinks. So let me pay for, like, a milk tea or something.”

“That’s hardly necessary, but danke,” Klavier said, smiling easily. “So, has it finally sunk in yet? Your newfound big brother status, that is.”

“Thankfully, not that kind of big brother,” Apollo said dryly. “Honestly, it hasn’t been that different. Me and Trucy have always looked out for each other, and...I dunno. We got attached pretty quickly, almost like we, uh...like we knew somehow. Like everything about our relationship made even more sense than before.” He then let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Never mind, that probably sounds really stupid - ”

“Nein, not at all,” Klavier murmured sympathetically.

“I don’t believe in fate or whatever, but...I couldn’t ask for a better sister,” Apollo admitted, his expression softening. “Though to be fair, I can ask said sister to stop dragging me on stage with her. I almost lost my eyebrows more than once, and once is already one time too many!”

“You did say better, not perfect,” Klavier teased, laughing. “So, what do you want to do tonight? Are we just stuffing our faces, or did you want to walk around? That bouncy castle looks sehr interessant.”

“Yeah, sure, if we wanna get kicked out,” Apollo snorted. “And I’m not sure yet, I was just gonna go with whatever everyone else wanted. When I used to come here all the time with...with…” His face fell. “Um. You know. He was so eager to try everything, I-I just let him drag me around. Literally.” Klavier looked away for a moment, unsure of what to say. Apollo then tugged on his sleeve so he would turn back, a small smile on his face. “Hey, c’mon. I’m the one who made it weird, don’t you make it weird, too.”

Klavier chuckled, placing his hand over Apollo’s and squeezing. “Why don’t you lead for a change? I mean it, Forehead, what do you want to do tonight?”

“Honestly? I just wanna eat and drink and laugh at the terrible knock-off merchandise with, uh. With you.” Apollo awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Before Klavier could respond, they’d reached the front of the line; Apollo turned to the merchant with a polite smile. “Hi, can we get one order of takoyaki, please? And can we get the sauces on the side?”

“Sure, that’ll be seven dollars,” the merchant replied. “Is this just for you, or are you sharing with your boyfriend?”

Apollo blinked. “Er, s-sorry?”

“I need to know how many toothpicks to give you,” the merchant said, shooting Apollo a strange look.

“I, uh…” Apollo cleared his throat. Klavier looked at him curiously, unsure if Apollo’s reaction was promising or worrying. “Yeah, we’re sharing.”

Once they received their order, they went to stand a little ways away from the crowd to eat and people-watch in companionable silence. Klavier stole the occasional glance in Apollo’s direction every so often, admiring how good he looked in a bucket hat, denim cutoffs, and of course, the hoodie he’d given him. Other than his signature red suit vest, it seemed to be the item of clothing he wore the most these days. Klavier wondered if it still smelled of his cologne, the cologne that Apollo claimed to hate.

“Gavin?” Apollo raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I, um...can I help you?”

“Ah - entschuldigung, I didn’t mean to stare,” Klavier said, ducking his head in embarrassment. “It just surprises me whenever you wear that, you know? Surely, you have other hoodies.”

“I’ve just gotten used to it, I guess,” Apollo shrugged. “And it’s weird, ‘cos it’s yours, but now I mostly associate it with Khura’in. Like, whenever I went for walks before or after work, this was usually the first thing I grabbed, even when it was too warm for me to wear. Something to hold onto, I s’pose.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey - new idea!”

Klavier chuckled at his sudden enthusiasm. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Over there,” Apollo said, gesturing towards the river running alongside the night market. Other market patrons were there as well, eating, talking, and admiring the city skyline. “It’s definitely no Khura’inese scenery, but we could also grab some food and go for a walk, get away from the main crowd and all that.”

“I’d like that,” Klavier replied, popping the last piece of takoyaki into his mouth. “What should we get next, then?”

After much deliberation, the two of them settled on milk tea and crepes, then began walking alongside the river, chatting amicably about nothing in particular while occasionally spotting their friends in the distance. They saw Trucy and Pearl sharing a giant bowl of shaved ice, Ema and Kay marveling at all of the bags for sale - Ema had once mentioned she needed a new one to fit her entire forensics kit - while Athena and Simon were, for some reason, arm-wrestling. Juniper was supervising them with a hint of apprehension in her eyes; Athena appeared to be winning.

As they passed by people going in the opposite direction, Klavier lowered the brim of his cap over his eyes. He felt somewhat nervous, even paranoid, every single time someone looked at him for a little too long. “Not too interested in signing autographs or taking selfies, huh?” Apollo teased when it happened for the fifth time in under twenty minutes. “Nah, I get it. I’m sure it gets pretty exhausting after a while.”

“It’s...it’s not fans I’m worried about,” Klavier confessed, ducking his head once more. “It’s...the opposite, really.”

“Huh?” Apollo’s eyes then widened. “Oh, you mean...o-oh. Has that been happening a lot lately, or…?”

“Just...more than it should,” Klavier said quietly, so quietly that Apollo almost couldn’t hear him over the noise of the night market. “Anyway, I’d rather not get into it. Tell me more about your mother, you said the other day that her memories were coming back to her, ja?”

Apollo eyed him worriedly, but decided not to comment. “Yeah, yeah, uh - mostly stuff about Trucy, and Trucy’s dad, and her time with the troupe. Not so much the before, the me and...and my dad part. It was...I tried asking her, y’know, basic stuff about him. Like what his voice sounded like, what kind of person he was...but it’s all bits and pieces for her. Little tiny things, not significant details. She remembered that he didn’t like spinach and he had a pair of lucky socks, but she wasn’t sure if my voice sounded anything like his, or how they picked my name, or what their first date was. Stuff like that.” He visibly swallowed.

“I’m sure that must have been frustrating for both of you,” Klavier said, humming in sympathy.

“I don’t know what to feel sometimes.” An odd look crossed Apollo’s face then, like he wasn’t sure where his words had come from, but he seemed determined to keep going. “Obviously, I-I’m happy to have her in my life, and to see her doing so well after what she went through, but...it’s not like I had this...this attachment to my dad that she did. And sure, I wanna know more about him, but sometimes, i-it feels like I’m doing it more for her than for me. But that makes me sound like a shitty person, like I-I don’t care about him. Like he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Klavier went silent for a moment, thinking. It was hard to concentrate when he could hear Apollo’s breath growing increasingly erratic; he so desperately wanted to wrap him up in a hug, though he wasn’t sure if Apollo would want him to. “If you ask me, you sound like a good person who cares about his mother,” he finally said after some time. “And even if your biological father isn’t as important to you as he was to her, he still means something to you. You know that.”

“Do I?” Apollo chuckled wetly, wiping his damp eyes with the sleeve hem of his hoodie. “And Trucy - god, Trucy, sh-she’s…”

“What about her?” Klavier asked, frowning.

“It’s not like either of us likes to think about it, but…” Apollo chewed his bottom lip. “If something happened to Mom, then...well. It’s not like it’s new to us...losing people. When do I get to the point where I can accept it? Where I know...I-I can’t do anything to stop it?” He let out another horrible laugh. “Shit, that sounded so heartless. Th-that’s not what I meant, I - ”

“I know what you meant,” Klavier promised somewhat sadly. “Have you talked to her about it? Or...either of them, really.”

“No, but it...it’s why Trucy wants us to hang out practically every day.” Apollo stopped for a moment, turning to watch Trucy, who was currently shoveling huge spoonfuls of shaved ice and red bean into her mouth, with a fond smile. “She won’t say it, but I-I know her. I can tell what she’s thinking. Even before we found out we were siblings, she seemed...kinda worried that I was gonna leave again. Or that I wasn’t gonna come back in the first place, even when I said I would.”

“Maybe it’s time you have that conversation,” Klavier suggested. “It won’t be a pleasant conversation, but it seems...necessary, ja?”

Apollo exhaled shakily. “Yeah, I know, I know. It’s just...there’s always something. A trial o-or a show or whatever. But, uh, honestly? I just don’t like thinking about it. Like, ever.”

“I don’t blame you,” Klavier admitted, rubbing Apollo’s arm reassuringly. “I wouldn’t want to open myself up to that kind of personal scrutiny, either.” He paused. “I...gave Trucy some similar advice a while back, you know. Advice that I should’ve taken myself, should still be taking myself, but...it’s like they say. Easier said than done.”

“Easier said than done,” Apollo echoed in agreement, sighing.

Another minute or two passed in silence, accompanied by the noisy chatter and whistling winds around them. Apollo seemed to be thinking intensely about something, but with everything they’d talked about, not just now, but over the past year, Klavier couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. Then, he lifted his head to look Klavier right in the eye. “Why did you call me in Khura’in, that first time?”

Klavier’s heart skipped a beat. “...why does it matter?”

“Because...because you’re one of my favorite people, too.” Apollo’s cheeks reddened, though he was clearly trying his best to ignore it. “And I - I wanna know if something happened that day. If...something happened to you.”

“Nothing happened to me,” Klavier said smoothly, trying not to let his dizzying joy at Apollo’s words show. “Trucy suggested I call you sometime, that’s all. Simple as that.”

Apollo’s right hand instantly went to his left wrist. “But that’s not all there is to it, is it?”

“Is this a cross-examination now?” Klavier asked, letting out an uneasy laugh. He turned on his heel and continued to walk. “You’re going to find my tell, are you? My nervous habit? It’s a nice night, Forehead, let’s not spoil it.”

“I just wanna understand you, Klavier.” Klavier stopped dead in his tracks; he could feel Apollo’s eyes on his back. “Look, if it’s such a big secret, or if you just don’t wanna tell me, I-I’ll shut up about it already. But I just - I worry about you sometimes. You’re always so...so calm. And helpful, a-and sweet, and...I get what it’s like to put on a brave face. To pretend that everything’s the way it should be. That’s all I’m saying. So if it really was nothing, then I’ll drop it, okay? I’ll let it go, and move - ”

“I was sitting in my childhood bedroom.” Now he felt lightheaded for a different reason; Klavier dropped his gaze, his body swaying despite the fact he was standing perfectly still. Apollo quickly stepped around him so they were face-to-face, tucking his empty cup under his arm so he could hold Klavier’s shoulders, his still-wet eyes shining with concern. “I was sitting on my bed, staring at the wall, and suddenly, I-I wanted to talk to the one person in the entire world who - who doesn’t want something from me. Who doesn’t want to ask for my autograph, or my connections, or my help, or...or about Kristoph. Who just wants to talk to me for - for - for me.” Before he could stop himself, his eyes were suddenly filling with tears. Klavier clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out.

Apollo let out a stifled noise. “Ah - Klavier!”

“Mama, a-and Papa, I - they say they can’t - that it - b-but they still mourn him l-like he’s already - already gone,” Klavier managed to say between short, gasping breaths, his heartbeat pounding alarmingly fast in his ears. He desperately clutched at his chest, but he was unable to find his grip. The ground, his surroundings, they all seemed to be spinning around him. “And I-I want to say - ‘I’m still here, y-you have me’ - and they know, but th-they - ”

“Breathe, Klavier, breathe,” Apollo urged. “Look at me, watch me, okay? In...out...in...”

Klavier dropped his cup entirely, desperately clinging onto Apollo’s shoulders, anticipating that his knees were about to give out beneath him. He swallowed a few generous lungfuls of air, trying not to cough or exhale directly in Apollo’s face, all while his eyes were fixated on Apollo’s - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, usually, though in the moonlight, more akin to the color of ink. “I’m okay,” Klavier whispered, though tears were still rolling down his cheeks. “Sorry, I - ”

“Don’t apologize,” Apollo said firmly. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to - we don’t - we don’t have to talk about this.”

“Nein, I - I want to tell you.” Klavier cleared his throat, wiping his face on his sleeve; he knew he looked like a mess, he knew that they were in public, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Bitte, will you let me?”

“Yeah, o-of course.” Now it was Apollo's turn to rub his arm comfortingly. “But, uh, I think we should sit. There’s a bench over there, are you good to move?”

Once they managed to sit down, both of them visibly shaking, Apollo placed a trembling hand on Klavier’s knee, nodding for him to try again. “I was trying to say that - that I’ve always been our parents’ favorite. I was more outgoing, more curious, and I think they especially liked that about me.” Klavier’s breath was still shallow; he paused to take another deep, measured breath. “So when I say that...that I feel responsible somehow...that I played a part in his madness, his cruelty...I-I’m not just talking about Zak Gramarye’s trial.”

“You don’t mean…” Apollo sucked in a breath of his own. “You think he resented you, don’t you?”

“I think it’s more like...he never liked getting ignored, passed over, for someone else. For me, for Herr Wright…” Klavier swallowed thickly. “And then I go home to my parents, a-and they promise me it’s not my fault, that I was merely a pawn, but - but I can tell that, deep down, they miss him. They mourn him, like he’s no longer here. They're packing his things, cleaning out his room...trying to pretend he never existed, because it’s easier than living with the truth. But they slip sometimes. All the time, really. Because, at the end of the day...he still means something to them. To me.”

“Klavier,” Apollo said softly, squeezing Klavier’s knee. He seemed unsure of what to say.

“I can try all I want, but there’s no pretending for me,” Klavier continued bitterly, his voice growing stronger, louder. “Do reporters want to ask about my success as a prosecutor or my music career? Nein, they want to ask how it felt to prosecute my own brother and my own bandmate. Do my coworkers want to know how my weekend was or if I’m free to hang out? Nein, they only ask how I’m feeling when I seem less than perfect because it makes them uncomfortable. When I go to family gatherings, do they tease me about my love life or ask me how work is going? Nein, they want to know if he and I really are cut from the same cloth. No one - no one ever really wants to ask me about me. Just me.”

“Klavier - ”

“And I know they try,” Klavier sighed. “And I don’t mean to be...I’m trying not to ask for much. But how do I really know, that when Herr Edgeworth tells me I’m doing a good job, that I really am doing a good job? If Herr Blackquill tells me I seem to be happier these days, does he mean it, o-or is he telling me what he knows I want to hear?” He paused. “How do I...do I trust any of my family members - nein, how do I trust my own judgment...when the one person I grew up with...when he...when the people I-I thought I knew turned out to be...” He shook his head, unable to finish his sentence.

“For what it’s worth...you know I'm in your corner, yeah?” Apollo offered. “You know I won't...that I don't bullshit you. But still, I...I’m so sorry, that’s...that’s terrible. So when you texted me after your cousin’s wedding...”

Klavier nodded resignedly. “Ja, exactly. I don’t...it feels like…” He felt tears forming in his eyes again; he quickly wiped them away before they could fall. “...never mind, it’s stupid. It’s childish, i-it’s selfish, I - ”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Apollo gave him a watery, encouraging smile. “What is it?”

Klavier went silent for what felt like hours, his mind racing to find the precise words he wanted to say. “...it feels like I will always care more about someone else than they will ever care about me.”

Another lengthy pause soon followed, one that made Klavier unbearably nervous. For once, Apollo’s usually expressive face was completely inscrutable. Then, Apollo practically threw himself at Klavier, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close. “Klavier,” he repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time, his voice warm and urgent in Klavier’s ear. “People care about you, okay? You gotta know that. I-I promise, there are people out there who - who care about you more than you think. Like...like me.”

Klavier let out a sobbing, incredulous laugh. “Achtung, Apollo...you do know that I’m in love with you, right?”

Apollo went still. He stared at him, wide-eyed. “You...you are?”

“You mean you really didn’t know?” Klavier could only laugh again, more hopelessly this time; his mouth seemed to be moving faster than his brain. While it usually never happened to him, it seemed like Apollo brought out his honesty more easily than most. He wasn’t sure if that impressed him or terrified him. “With everything that’s been happening between us, you didn’t think - ”

“I-I knew we were getting closer, th-that we were gonna go for drinks, but...I-I thought this was, like. A recent thing for you,” Apollo stammered, still staring at him disbelievingly.

“A recent thing? You mean like your feelings...for me?” Klavier was almost afraid to ask.

“What? No, I - ” Apollo suddenly seemed to realize he still had his arms loosely draped around Klavier’s midsection. He yanked them back like he’d been burned, his cheeks flushed pink. “I mean, yes, yes, d-definitely recent - ”

“Apollo, bitte.” Klavier took Apollo’s hands in his, gently running his thumbs across Apollo’s knuckles. “I know you don’t owe me your honesty, but I’d like to think that after everything I just said, you could afford me just a little bit of it.”

Apollo fell silent, considering. Klavier held his breath in anticipation, heart thumping wildly against his ribcage. Then, Apollo withdrew one hand from Klavier’s grasp, instead lifting it to cup Klavier’s jaw. His eyes were wet once more, his smile impossibly soft. “I hate that you feel like you have to ask for someone else to be honest to you...least of all me,” Apollo murmured. “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine - ”

“But it isn’t!” Apollo interrupted fiercely. “You shouldn’t have to ask for basic decency, especially from someone who’s supposed to care about you. Because - ‘cos god, Klavier, you - you’re - I love you, okay?” Klavier’s mouth fell open, stunned, but no words came out. “I love you and your...your…” Apollo inhaled yet again, taking a moment to think carefully. “You always surprise me, y’know. With how...willing you are to be proven wrong. How open you are to changing your mind. And even though you’re one of the most self-important people I’ve ever met...you still manage to be pretty selfless when it comes down to it. So selfless, that...that...that it worries me sometimes.”

“Worries...you?” Klavier asked, his voice small.

Apollo shot him a shaky smile. “Whether you’re looking out for yourself.”

“I think the last thing anyone could accuse me of is not making something about me,” Klavier said, chuckling wetly. “Take now, for example. We were having such a nice night, until - ”

“ - until you finally got the chance to say what you’ve been wanting to say,” Apollo finished for him. “Just like...like I did. Just now.”

Klavier’s eyes flitted across Apollo’s face, his gaze traveling from his tearful eyes to his parted lips, trying to find a sign, a warning that there was something there other than complete sincerity. When he found nothing, he cracked a grin of his own. “You really love me?”

In lieu of answering, Apollo moved closer, his forehead resting against Klavier’s, their noses barely brushing. Klavier’s breath hitched. Then, Apollo closed the gap between them, kissing him so tenderly, so carefully, that he felt a pleasant shiver go up his spine. Finally. Klavier melted right into him, every muscle in his body seemingly relaxing all at once; he released Apollo’s hand so he could wrap his arms around him, pulling him into his embrace. Apollo was so warm, Klavier thought, his skin surprisingly soft, his lips unsurprisingly rough, not that it lessened Klavier’s joy. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment, not all the people walking by that could easily see them, not the fact that their friends could probably recognize them if they tried. When they reluctantly broke apart, they realized that they both had tears running down their faces.

“..shit.” Apollo let out a wet laugh, sniffling sharply. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie to pull out a packet of tissues, handing one to Klavier before attempting to take care of himself. “That was, uh - ”

“Perfect,” Klavier declared, his grin so wide, it threatened to split his face open.

“I was gonna say ‘gross’, but okay. Whatever you’re into, I guess,” Apollo teased, turning away momentarily to blow his nose. A comfortable silence fell over them as they took a moment to clean themselves up, to wipe their running noses and watery eyes. “Um, but - Klavier, are you okay? Because, well. That seemed like a lot.”

“Ja, I…” Klavier laughed disbelievingly. “...I feel incredible, actually. Like I’ve managed to...to let go of some of the things I’ve been carrying for a little too long. Even if I didn't do anything but drop them.” He then looked at Apollo. “What about you, liebe? We were talking about you, and then it became about me, and - ”

“That’s how conversations work, Klav,” Apollo reminded him. “And all that...I dunno, guilt, loneliness, whatever you wanna call it? That’s been going on for way too long. But for me, it’s...I-I’m still figuring some stuff out. Something I can deal with once I know, y’know?”

“If you’re sure. But...I’m here if you need me, ja? Always.” Klavier brushed a few loose strands of hair out of Apollo’s eyes, then leaned in to kiss him again. This particular kiss was thankfully less damp. “So, ah...what should we do now?”

“Well...I think all that crying made me dehydrated,” Apollo said half-jokingly. He stood, extending a hand in Klavier’s direction. “Will you finally let me pay for one of your drinks? Please?”

“I guess I can indulge you,” Klavier teased, taking Apollo’s hands and getting to his feet as well. Apollo rolled his eyes but pulled Klavier along nonetheless. Their fingers remained entangled, both of them holding on tight, even when they stepped back into the night market crowd.

_____

A few hours later, they found themselves in the elevator of Klavier’s apartment building, on the way up to his penthouse, grinning giddily at each other like lovesick teenagers. Naturally, the others had been suspicious when Apollo told them they were leaving together. Trucy, Athena, and Kay seemed ready to burst with questions, while Ema and Simon had merely watched them go with raised eyebrows. Still, no one said anything but their goodbyes, something both of them were grateful for.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard over there,” Apollo said, smirking. “You’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“Never,” Klavier replied instantly. Even though he knew Apollo was joking, he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t. “Not when it comes to you.”

Apollo’s smile softened. “Good. That’s, uh...that’s good. Same here.”

After they’d washed up and settled in, the two of them collapsed onto Klavier’s bed, right on top of his duvet, comfortably exhausted from everything that had been said and done. Apollo was half-curled into Klavier’s side, yawning every so often while he sent off a few text messages, presumably to Trucy and their mother. Klavier had one hand in Apollo’s hair and the other loosely resting on Apollo’s hip, humming and tapping out a rhythm while he waited for Apollo to finish.

“Sorry,” Apollo said, briefly rolling over so he could set his phone down on the bedside table.

“Nein, nein, it’s okay,” Klavier replied. “I don’t know about you, but I’m wide awake. How am I supposed to fall asleep after a night like that, achtung.”

“Yeah, we definitely had, uh...we definitely had a moment back there.” Apollo sounded both embarrassed and pleased. “God, I hope no one saw us. I have zero interest in becoming a trending hashtag before our first date.”

“You don’t consider this our first date?” Klavier asked curiously.

“I prefer my first dates to be drama-free, thanks,” Apollo drawled. Still, his expression was relaxed, somewhat drowsy. “Though I think, in a way...we kinda needed that. Wish it hadn’t happened in public, but hey, we can’t exactly pick our battles.” At Klavier’s responding chuckle, he frowned slightly. “Klav? What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just - mein Gott, I love you.” Klavier rested his forehead against Apollo’s, his smile warm and open. Apollo returned it with one of his own, his hands resting against Klavier’s chest, Klavier’s heartbeat steady beneath his fingertips. “I know we still have a lot to deal with, but...right now? I couldn’t care less. I’m just...I’m so happy.”

Grinning, Apollo shuffled closer, kissing him chastely. They exchanged slow, meandering kisses for a few minutes, fingers lightly pressed into each other’s sides, legs loosely tangled together. “...dork.”

“Your response is supposed to be ‘I love you, too’, liebe,” Klavier hinted, eliciting a delighted laugh from Apollo’s mouth. “But seriously, I mean it. I really do feel...free.”

“Good,” Apollo said affectionately, cupping Klavier’s face with both hands. “Look, I - I know all that stuff you’re feeling isn’t gonna magically go away, just like that, but...if you still need to hear it…” He then turned his head, his lips brushing against Klavier’s ear. “...it wasn’t your fault. It was his, all his. And people legitimately care about you for reasons that have nothing to do with him or your fame or their own motives. So try not to let anyone make you think otherwise, okay?” Klavier shivered. “And I love you, too. Dork.”

“Ach,” Klavier said, sniffling. “You’re going to make me cry again, baby. How dare you call me a dork.” Apollo burst into laughter once more, burying his face in the crook of Klavier’s neck with a satisfied hum. They went quiet for a little while longer, simply holding each other and enjoying the stillness of the night. “I do have...one last little worry, though.”

“Yeah?” Apollo ran his thumb across Klavier’s cheek. “What is it?”

“I...part of me is worried, that…” Klavier paused, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. “After everything we’ve been through...do you really think this is going to work? Or do you think that we just hope that it will?”

“No use in pretending like we know for sure,” Apollo said honestly. “There’s a million things that could go wrong, y’know? We could get into a really bad argument, we could have problems separating work from our personal lives - hell, we might be better off as friends…”

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” Klavier teased.

“Oh, hush.” Apollo kissed Klavier to silence him. The two of them became momentarily distracted, wrapped up in each other’s embrace once more. Klavier wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to let Apollo go in the morning, not when they’d both waited this long. “All I’m saying is, as long as we try, then…” Apollo’s kiss-bitten lips then stretched into a fond grin. “...I think we’re gonna do just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my seventh and final entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the third of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. However, this fic is best read after day five's, meet me halfway (across the sky), so I would recommend reading that one to fully understand the first half of this fic!

Y'all, I can't believe it's finally over! I feel like I've been working on these fics for ages (and I've fallen behind on others; we'll see if I end up getting two fics out in July like I originally planned), especially this one and day five's. Thank you to the lovelies who organized Klapollo Week, this was super fun to do! I got a little overambitious for sure, but I liked how they turned out. In doing this, I definitely learned that short(er) fics aren't really my thing; I had a good time writing them, but I'm not a concise writer, so I struggled with getting a good balance of plot and details for the fics that were under six thousand words. In fact, I low-key wanna write fuller versions of all of them 😅

If you missed any of the other days, I would love it if you checked them out! My personal favorites are the odd-numbered days, also known as the ones with angst. I'm thinking that sometime next year, I'll write a super long version of meet me halfway (across the sky) where Klavier eventually gets to be with Apollo in Khura'in. Knowing me, that thing will be a monster of fifty-thousand-word proportions. In the meantime, if you're interested in finding out what I'll be posting next, you can filter my fanfiction masterpost by "coming soon"!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you’re all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #y'all i'm so pleased with how this one turned out #thank you to everyone who read and commented and shared!!#my ao3 inbox is wild and i will be tackling that sometime this coming week

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lunatens · 4 years ago

Text

since we’re alone

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst + fluff

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader

requested by...too many people to count ksjdfbskg

a/n: im so sorry this took so long, i think like 10+ people asked for me to write a sequel (which is kind of a lot considering tmta has like..less than 100 notes lmao) but i really struggled to find the motivation til now ;-; i really hope you guys like the direction i decided to take this!! also yes i did name this series after niall horan songs what about it

*this is a sequel to “too much to ask” so if you haven’t read that, you probably should read it first!*

confusion hits you as the rosy glow of the morning sun lands on your face. why the hell is it so bright? you groan as you pry open your sleepy eyes only to see the sunrise blazing through the large windows of your living room, and the memories of last night’s events come back to you. your head hurts a bit; probably a mixture of the morning light, the alcohol you had last night, and then crying yourself to sleep.

you rub the sleep from your eyes, surprised to see a blanket you don’t remember using falling to the floor as you stretch. you reach for your phone on the coffee table to check the time—too early to be awake, dammit—only to notice a glass of water right there. yeah, that definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep. picking it up, the cool condensation leaves your fingers wet to the touch, and the icy water feels nice on your throat.

your eyes begin to water as more and more of what happened last night comes back you—in particular the words you said to him in your drunken state. a tsunami of guilt washes over you, mixed with lingering waves of anger and hurt. taking another sip of the water, you try to calm down and think about things. maybe it’s best to talk to hyunjin about this and tell him everything that’s on your mind now that you’re sober. yeah, that’ll work.

you groggily stand up from the couch, pulling the blanket over your shoulders like a cape and letting it drag along the floor as you tentatively walk to the bedroom. the door swings open with a quiet creak, and you bite your lip nervously.

“hyunjin?” you call into the darkness, voice loud enough to wake him but gentle enough not to startle him. you’re met with silence, and you frown as your eyes adjust a bit to the darkness only to see an empty bed in front of you, cotton sheets carelessly thrown aside. your heart sinks deep into your chest, the small rays of hope and forgiveness quickly fading. gone to practice again, you’re not even sure if he’ll be back until later and even then he might not return at all, considering what you said to him last night. your heart feels like it’s been torn in two; you were ready to talk things out with hyunjin and work towards a solution, already ready to forgive him, so seeing him leave just like any other day sends daggers through your heart.

“he could’ve at least made the bed,” you grumble to yourself, haphazardly throwing the sheets and pillow back to where they belong. as you do so, you can’t help but wonder if maybe it really is for the best if you just end things with him. sure, there are lots of great moments with hyunjin and you have so many special memories together, not to mention the fact that you’re completely head over heels in love with him, but as high as the highs in your relationship feel, the lows are just as extreme, if not even more so. you check your phone again, the lack of any sort of message from hyunjin helping you make up your mind; when he hopefully comes home tonight, you’ll break things off with him.

you shuffle back out to the living room, now brightly lit by the fully-risen morning sun. flopping down on the couch, you grab the remote so you can look for something mindless to watch; maybe it’ll help take your mind off of the impending doom that ticks ever closer to you, since you’re too antsy to go back to sleep. you’re about to turn the tv on when a loud thump at the door startles you into dropping the remote. you turn to look at the door, peerings over the couch wide-eyed as you hear keys fumbling in the lock before the handle clicks and the door swings open. when hyunjin’s tall frame quietly enters the room, you think your heart must’ve stopped beating for a moment. your emotions are in turmoil as a million questions and thoughts race through your mind; what’s he doing back so early? do i still break up with him? where did he go if not practice and schedules? and what’s in that box??

hyunjin gently places a white box on the nearest surface before putting his jacket and mask away. you don’t think he’s noticed you’re awake yet, as he seems to be trying his best to be silent. you almost giggle at the thought, but then you remember you’re mad at him and you just continue curiously watching his actions. he finally turns to peek over at the couch, expecting to see your still sleeping form, so when his eyes meet yours he’s a bit taken aback.

“oh, um, goodmorning y/n,” he greets, a little bit awkward. you can tell he’s having trouble reading your emotions and he’s trying to tread carefully, so you remain quiet to see what he’s up to. he picks up the box in both hands and walks over to you, placing the box on the table beside your empty water glass and sitting down beside you. you turn to look at him, expression neutral as he furrows his eyebrows and takes your hands in his.

“y/n, i am so, so sorry for what happened yesterday. i-i know that doesn’t cut it, but i can’t even describe to you how sorry i am. i love you so so much, and i really don’t want to lose you. i understand if you don’t feel the same and you’d rather just en-end it, but i want to do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.”

you didn’t even notice you were crying until his thumb is swiping away a tear on your cheek. he leaves his hand up against your face, and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

“you’ve been so supportive of me following my dreams and being an idol, and i’ve been awful at showing you how much you mean to me. so i’m taking today off, i’ve told chan what happened and he said he’ll cover for me, so now i can be here with you. is...is that okay?” hyunjin asks, eyes searching yours to try and read what your tears mean--are you sad? do you hate him forever?

all you can think to do right now is lean forward to capture his lips in a deep kiss. as soon as your lips touch you can feel the relief wash through both yourself and him. he pulls you closer and wraps his arms tight around you as if he’s never letting go. you pull apart with a soft giggle, wiping your tears away and gently smiling.

“i love you too, jinnie. we can make this work, just please-please don’t make promises you can’t keep ever again, ok?” you ask as you squeeze him in a tight hug, breathing in the welcoming scent of his sweater. he kisses your forehead and lightly caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“deal,” he says, and the two of you just lie there in each other’s arms in silence, your arms wrapped tightly around hyunjin’s torso and his fingers tracing circles on your back. you’re overwhelmed with emotions right now, and you hardly know what to think, but you’re relieved to have hyunjin back in your arms. suddenly, you remember you still don’t know where he went this morning.

“what’s in the box?” you ask as you pull away to examine it, reaching out to touch the white cardboard.

“ah, i mean it’s nothing really, i mean it’s a day late anyways and it’s so early i could hardly find anywhere that was open, let alone actually had something decent,” hyunjin rambles as you open the lid to see a small cake inside with “happy birthday y/n! sorry i ruined your birthday” written in purple icing. the sight makes your heart swell with happiness and you can’t hold back the smile in your face.

“you got up this early just to get me a cake?” you ask in excitement; if this is hyunjin’s way of making things up to you, it’s definitely working.

“not just a cake,” he says nervously as he pulls a smaller white box out of his pocket and hands it to you. opening it, you see a delicate silver chain necklace with a tiny locket on it. inside the locket is a super dumb picture of you and hyunjin from back when your first started dating, and the word “stay” is engraved on the back. you blink furiously, trying and failing to rid yourself of the tears filling your eyes.

“i was gonna give this to you yesterday, but i felt like it might not have been the bets time...and i know it’s kind of cheesy, but i wanted you to always have something to remember me by when i’m away. i got one for myself too so you’ll be with me too, i’m gonna try to even sneak it with me on stage so you’ll always be by my side,” he says, cheeks flushed with embarrassment but that just makes the moment even sweeter.

“i love it so much, hyunjin, thank you,” is all you can say in fear you’ll burst into tears if you speak any more words. you lean in to press another kiss to his soft lips, this time lingering so you can savour this moment. hyunjin helps you put the locket around your neck, and you do the same for him, smiling shyly at each other.

“so what do you say we dig into this cake and get the day started?” hyunjin asks.

“but it’s so early to eat cake!” you respond, to which hyunjin shrugs his shoulders.

“who cares, we have the whole day to spend together and we can do whatever the hell we want,” he says with a smile, and you couldn't be happier to have hyunjin in your life.

#skz #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshot #stray kids drabble #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin oneshot #angst #fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #since we're alone

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idunnoficsorsumthing · 4 years ago

Text

Wedding dress shopping

George Weasley x Female! reader

Lmao I saw this tumblr post about people saying Mrs. Weasley and then supposedly and 6 women turn around or something and I thought this will good.... XD

Sequel: Next Steps

You were sitting at the table looking at wedding details. The invitations had been sent, the cake tasting was planned, and dress shopping was next week. "I don't want to do this anymore. " George said, you shook your head. You looked at the table, and wondered where it all went wrong. “What?” you ask. “The wedding.” he said, you frowned at him. You had to stare at him for a minute. “This is Ginny’s wedding, sweetie. You have no say over that.” you laugh. He didn’t seem amused by it. “I still think Harry and Ginny are rushing into this.” he said, you look at him. He was trying to say something, yet you didn’t understand. “they have been together since her 5th year, that is five years together.” you said, he held up his finger. “They weren’t together in her 6th year.” he said, you raise your eyebrow at him. “Be happy for your sister, George.” you said, he rolls his eyes at you.

Hermoine, Audrey, Fleur, Ginny, and you went together with Molly to the bridal shop to see which dress Ginny should pick, as a quidditch player from the Holyhead Harpies she had many friends coming to the wedding, and they wanted to come with her. But, she wanted this to be a family thing because she never pictured her being able to do this with sisters, and now she had plenty. She asked you to be her maid of honor, and you were surprised when she did that. I mean you were a year older than she was, and at Hogwarts you did hang out a lot. But, you hung out more with the twins, and after Hogwarts you did hang out with Ginny, and Hermoine a lot. But, you expected Ginny to ask Hermoine or one of her friends. But, you were happy to help Ginny, and Molly with the wedding planning. “Mrs. Weasley?” the sales lady said, “Yes?” the five women you accompanied said, you burst into a small laugh. “Don’t laugh just yet George might always propose soon.” Fleur said, linking her arm into yours. You shrug, and give her a smile. It was weird to be the last ones at the familie dinner table still calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend even though we have been together the longest.

Ginny stepped out of the stall in an A line shape dress, the top perfectly around her body, and slowly flowed down at the bottom. It was covered with lace, and the top had a sweetheart neckline. She looked absolutely stunning. “The dress is beautiful.” you tell her, Molly had tears in her eyes. This was something she dreamed about for years probably. “It is absolutely you Ginny.” Hermoine complemented. Aubrey got up from her seat, and walked to the veils that were lined up at a different wall. She picked one, placing it on Ginny’s head. Ginny absolutely looked like a beautiful bride, and this wedding was going to be a big event. Star quidditch player and the boy who lived? newspapers wanted interviews about that union.

After dress shopping the six of you went out for dinner. Aubrey used the words Rosé all day, and it made you want to gag. You were practically sisters but still you didn’t have the same connection to Fleur or Aubrey as you had to Hermoine and Ginny. Maybe it was being friends even at school that made you closer to the other two. You were feeling sad, because everyone was already married, and you and George weren’t. Of course that was all still post-war feelings that everyone got married so young. You got home from a fun night out with the others to the apartment where you and George lived upstairs of the joke shop. He was watching muggle television. “Hey Georgie.” you said, sitting on the arm rest of the couch. He pecked a kiss on your lips to greet you. “How many rosé’s did Aubrey make you drink?” he said, you guessed he could smell the alcohol on your breath, and Aubrey really was a rosé person. “Too many.” you said, he put his hand on your hip, and you let yourself slide into his lap. “Did my baby sister choose a dress?” he asked. You nod. “She looked so pretty.” you said, he nods. Without him telling you why he had never proposed you knew why he hadn’t. He was still mourning Fred, and he always would. You were too.But, in your drunk state you wanted some clarity, because you didn’t want to wait for George if he was never going to be ready. “Georgie, how come you never proposed?” you ask. You felt sort of relieved when you had asked him that. “I just don’t feel ready.” he said, he had his hand on your knee, and he stroked the small of your back with his other hand, you had your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with his hair. “I get that. I still get sad everyday.” you said, you lost your parents because death eaters tortured them in the weeks leading to the battle of Hogwarts, and you also lost Fred though you could not imagine how he was feeling. “but, will you ever be ready?” you ask. He looked you in your eyes with the deepest honesty. “I don’t know.” he said, you let go of him, stumbling with getting off him. You stood by the couch where he was still sitting. “I want to get married, and have a kid, and I want that to be you Georgie, but if you are never going to be ready then I don’t know if this is good for either of us.” you said, you walk to the bedroom leaving him all alone on the couch.

You awoke with a heavy headache. You really shouldn’t have had all those rosé’s and the other drinks you had because you didn’t want to drink rosé. On the nightstand was an advil and a glass of water. You get up, and walk to the kitchen. George was reading his newspaper, eating his breakfast which was oreo cereal. He was absolutely obsessed with that the past few weeks. “Good morning.” you said, he ignored you. You sat down at the kitchen table across from him. You take the cereal box and put some in your bowl, taking the milk carton that was in front of you, pouring some in. “You remember what you were talking about yesterday?” George asked, looking up at you. You nod slightly. “I’m sorry George, I didn’t mean it like that.” you said: “I absolutely didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, and to force you to want to marry me.” he just simply looked at you while you kept on talking. “Being married isn’t as important to me as being with you. I was just feeling sad because we were at the bridal shop, and then this sales lady said mrs. Weasley and everybody said yes except for me because I am not a Weasley.” George smirked at you. “I always thought you’d keep your own last name.” he said, you shrug. “You imagined it?” you ask. He nods. “Of course. I’ve pictured that since 5th year.” he said, you cross your arms. That was seven years ago why not do something about it. “Me not marrying you has nothing to do with Fred’s death.” he said, you raise an eyebrow. “I just liked the way it is now, just the two of us traveling around the world. I know we talked about opening another joke shop near Ilvermorny.” he said. You get up from your seat, and get the coffee can that was on the kitchen counter. You pour yourself a cup, and walk to George’s seat and pour some more in his cup. You sat down next to him this time instead of across. “I don’t want to get married now in a post-war happiness where everybody is just happy to be alive. Knock you up and have seven kids.” he said, you stare at him. “We are never having seven kids, Okay. I love your siblings but I am okay with one kid.” you said, George crossed his arms over his chest. “Only one?” He said: “I was thinking about three of four.” he smirked at you. A smile appeared on your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley x Y/n #ginny weasley #hermoine #fred weasley

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julemmaes · 4 years ago

Note

Zero pressure cuz I know you’re working on other things but are u still planning on writing the sequel to I Love You with Cal?

I’m Sorry

acotar next gen fan fic

part two for this one shot here

A/N: I won’t be giving any summary cause it’s 1am and I’m crying cause I just want to be able to sleep, I just hope this will satisfy you all and maybe makes you cry a little cause it was hard to finish it. Please if there’s any mistakes don’t point that out to me, I’ll check tomorrow. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Word count: 3,857

Cal had returned home shortly after dinner. His family had already finished eating and he just wanted to get some rest after the long day he'd had with Raina.

They'd stayed up all night the day before because her parents hadn't been home, and during the day he'd found it difficult to focus on his classes, so much that he'd skipped one in order to take a nap in the university gardens. All of this, of course, hadn't stopped him from going straight back to Raina's house to spend more time together, and while they were supposed to be studying for the upcoming exam they were both taking, they had decided to spend the entire afternoon doing the nasty.

Now, lying on his bed, he tried not to laugh too loudly at the memes he was looking at, so as not to disturb Ezra who was studying despite the hour. Unlike him, his brother couldn't afford to fail an exam and his mother would surely hit him repeatedly if he tried to mess that up.

He was about to shut everything off and warn Raina that he was going to sleep, when Ezra sighed too loudly to be casual. Thinking it was just for the studying, Cal didn't give it that much thought and opened up the chat with his girlfriend, starting to type his goodnight.

"Fuck it." muttered Ezra, closing the book, "Cal, man?"

"Hmm?" he hummed from his spot on the bed.

"Yesterday after you left, something happened and I think you should know because it's partially your fault too and the rest of us have all apologized already." he said in a tone that was far too serious for the relaxed situation they were in.

Cal's head snapped towards him for a second as he saw Ezra get up and walk towards his bed, before returning his attention to the screen where Raina was telling him she was going to take a shower - and think about him in the process. An idle grin appeared on his lips and he held his breath when she sent him a picture in front of the mirror wearing only a pair of panties.

"Can you please listen to me without looking at your phone?" asked Ezra a little more pressing.

Cal huffed, running a hand through his hair and turning off the screen. He crossed his hands over his chest, smiling sarcastically at his brother, "You have my full attention."

It wasn't true. If he wanted to sleep that night, he too would have had to take a shower to get rid of that uneasy itch between his legs. The picture Raina had just sent him shone brightly etched into his eyelids, but he wasn't going to risk Ezra grabbing his phone out of his hands and seeing pictures of his half-naked girlfriend.

Not again, at least.

"You're not listening to me," Ezra blurted, his voice low.

"God you sound like mom when she gets pissed," he snorted. He pulled himself up on his elbows, jerking his chin, "What?"

"I caught Celia coming out of the tavern yesterday and she was crying," the other said, slipping off his shirt to put on his pajamas, "Mom and dad have already talked to her and me and the girls have apologized more than once, I slept in there with them last night, but-" he cleared his throat, running a hand over his face.

Cal forgot about Raina in a split second.

If Celia had cried and Ezra had felt the need to tell him, it meant it was something important.

"But?" urged Cal to continue, sitting up and setting the phone down on the nightstand.

Ezra looked him straight in the eye as he took off his jeans as well, then looked away, shaking his head, "Before I tell you, it's not your fault specifically, it was a lot of things that built up that made her break down for a moment-"

Cal interrupted him, "Can you get straight to the point, please? You're worrying me."

"It's not even that important, I just think you need to know."

"Jesus Christ, just tell me," he snapped.

"Celia had a complete nervous breakdown last night," Ezra said in one breath, kneeling on his bed without even looking at him. Cal's heart clenched in his chest. "She said we don't love her like we love the rest of us," he sighed, "that mom and dad never have time for her basically."

Then Ezra's icy eyes pierced into Cal's hazel ones, and he knew that whatever he said next would be the heaviest bit to hear. He tucked into his shoulders, breathing through his nose.

"She also said that Nora hates her. That you hate her."

Cal closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his forehead, "Fuck." he muttered, "She mentioned me and Nora specifically?"

Ezra didn't answer and Cal opened his eyes, seeing him nod with a grimace on his face, "Dad told her that's not true, obviously, but I think it would be good for her to hear it directly from you."

"Fuck." muttered Cal again. He put his feet on the ground, leaning forward and taking his head in his hands as he remembered how he'd dismissed Celia not once, but twice in the space of a few minutes when she had needed him.

To go have sex, of all things.

"Why didn't you call me? Texted me?" asked Cal, looking over his shoulder at Ezra, "I would have come home sooner." he sighed again when he suddenly remembered the conversation that had taken place only a couple of hours earlier with Celia.

They had been sitting on the couch in the living room in silence when Cal had asked her what movie she wanted to watch and she hadn't answered him right away. She hadn't even looked at him when she'd said, "You don't have to be pretend like you like to stay home with me." before getting up from the couch and going upstairs, probably to her room. Cal had been surprised by those words, but hadn't dwelled too much on his sister's tone of voice or her hurt expression, continuing to text Raina.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." he cursed himself again, thinking about how much that indifference of his had done nothing but prove her fears. He didn't dwell on the image of a distraught Celia crying that appeared in his head too.

Ezra clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Listen, if you go in there like this you're just going to scare her," he told him softly, "Calm down for a moment and take a couple of minutes to think, because it sounds like you've been given the worst news you can get, so breathe, think and if you can't get it all done before eleven maybe you should wait until tomorrow morning."

Cal wanted to tell him that it was one of the worst things anyone could say to him, but looking into his eyes he realised that he must have felt the same way the night before.

"Did you find her crying or..?"

Ezra lifted a shoulder, tucking himself under the covers and folding his arms behind his head, "I told you, she was downstairs and I didn't understand what she was doing there, then dad saw her and she burst into tears." a short pause before he resumed speaking in a lower voice, "I haven't heard her cry like that in a few years. She has to be holding it all in for so long."

Cal ran a hand over his face, puffing out his cheeks.

His phone screen lit up with a notification from Raina.

He opened the chat without even checking the last picture she had sent him:

'I'll text you later princess, something came up and I'm not really in the mood to send you pictures. Sorry.'

Her reply didn't even take ten seconds to appear, 'No, I'm sorry, I wouldn't have sent anything if I knew something was wrong. You need me to call you?'

Cal smiled slightly at the phone, 'Don't worry, you couldn't have known.'

The message that followed sounded more threatening than anything else, 'Okay, but you didn't answer my question, do you want me to call you? I can be there in five if I have to. Or you can come back here, you know I'm alone.'

As tempting as that invitation was, Cal shook his head, knowing full well that it held no double meaning, just genuine concern. 'It's Celia. She wasn't well last night and no one thought to warn me.'

'Oh, what happened?'

'Can I text you later? I have to take care of this now. It's nothing to worry about, just, I'll tell you later.'

'Alright.' Cal chuckled. It was just like seeing her, biting the inside of her lip, thinking of all the possibilities.

'Love you.'

He didn't wait for her reply and lay back down on the bed, putting himself in the same position as his brother.

"Do you think I was an asshole?" he asked at one point, looking up at the ceiling.

He heard Ezra moving around on the bed and when he turned around, his brother was lying on his side, his head resting on one arm. He looked so much like their mum. "She didn't really elaborate when she said you hate her-"

"Could you stop saying I hate her as if it were true?" interrupted Cal, frowning.

Ezra arched an eyebrow, "Sorry." then looked at him attentively, "I was saying, she didn't say anything in particular, so I wouldn't know. What did you do to sweep her off her feet like that?"

Cal looked at him with a slightly wide mouth, "For someone who says it's not my fault, it sure as hell looks like you don't believe it."

"I'm just fucking with you, though, she said you kicked her out of the room," then grimaced, "Actually, dad and I did that too, so don't worry if it's true."

Cal shook his head, amazed, looking up at the ceiling again, "We're all assholes then."

"What did you tell her?" asked Ezra again.

"I just told her I'd help her with her homework, I guess, and then I left," he replied.

"For?" Cal turned to him with an expression that said it all. Ezra scoffed, "You could have helped her five minutes, before you went off to fuck."

Cal flinched at those words, knowing full well how true they were, "You could have done the same. What were you and dad doing anyway?"

Ezra took a while to answer, "We were supposed to be fixing the bike, but we were actually playing darts."

"Busted." he muttered, "We should scold dad too then." joked Cal, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"I think he's regretted it enough already," the eldest said in a serious tone, "He barely touched his food at dinner yesterday and then went straight to bed."

"Maybe he was just tired," Cal assumed, trying to kill time before the inevitable.

"I don't think so, he pretty much spent all day staring at Celia like she might break at any moment." he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it, "Sometimes I wonder how they manage with five kids. It must be hard."

Cal frowned, looking at his brother, trying to figure out if he was just playing around or not. When he saw Ezra staring at the ceiling with a lost gaze, he realized that no, he was one hundred percent serious.

That he didn't realize the help he gave his parents? It was true, Ezra was only four years older than Cal, but there was no way he shouldn't be considered some sort of third parent. The eldest of the siblings had taken care of all of them from day zero and had never backed down from such duty.

Cal's eyes widened, deciding not to broach that subject that evening.

One thing at a time.

"Do you think you'll talk to her tonight?" asked Ezra, "I only ask because - even if you don't have to tonight - I think you should go say goodnight, tell her you love her before you go to sleep."

"Give me ten more minutes and then I'll go," Cal murmured.

"As long as you need."

***

"The other day when I went out with Iria and we met one of the boys in her class," Nora said with bright eyes, "he asked me to give him my number and I don't think I should tell mom."

Celia giggled, hiding her face against the duvet on her bed, "She'd definitely tell dad and at that point you'd be quicker to jump in front of a train on your own."

Nora burst out laughing, looking up at her from the upside down position she was in, "Iria said the same thing too."

"What's his name?"

Her sister's face lit up, "Zeke. I don't know his last name." then she cackled, "Maybe I should ask him."

"Is he cute?" asked Celia just as the door opened and Cal appeared.

"Who's cute?" asked their brother, just the instant Nora said, "Don't you know how to knock?"

"An actor." replied the younger one, as any sort of excitement vanished inside her.

She didn't want the strange bubble that had been created over the last few hours to burst. She had finally managed to convince Nora to spend some time with her as they hadn't done in months and she hadn't had that much fun in too long.

Cal shifted his gaze from Nora to her, keeping his eyes fixed in hers for a while before turning back to Nora, "You're not telling me the truth."

"Why are you here?" the older one asked, turning on her stomach and looking at her brother standing in the doorway.

Celia felt herself blush for some reason when Cal's eyes settled on her again and said, "Could you come with me for a moment?"

She arched an eyebrow, "Why?"

The boy seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, "I'd like to talk to you."

Nora yawned, not covering her mouth, "The two of us would be talking."

Cal turned to the older of the two of them, "Stop being so bossy."

"I wouldn't have to if you knocked before coming into our room and then claimed to steal Lia from me," Nora replied tensely.

Celia pulled herself up to her seat, rubbing her hands over her face as she tried to suppress a smile.

She knew they weren't really fighting, but they were bickering to win her attention, her time, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't warming her heart.

"I-" stammered Cal, gesturing to Nora, "What- I'm not trying to steal Cece from you, I just want to talk to her for five minutes."

"What do you want Cal?" she asked trying to figure out what she needed to discuss at this time of the night.

Cal gave her an exasperated look, "Ezra told me what happened last night, I wanted to apologize."

Both she and Nora straightened up, but Celia was the only one who held her breath, blinking a couple of times, hoping to erase any trace of surprise from her expression.

Nora cleared her throat, sitting up, "I think I'll go brush my teeth." she said getting up.

Celia frowned, "You've done that before with-"

"Brush my teeth!" she repeated loudly, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Now only she and Cal stood in the room.

"Cal, you don't-"

He interrupted her before she could say anything else, crossing the room with two wide strides, "I want to apologize."

Celia looked at him, pulling herself up to sit cross-legged as he plopped down on Nora's bed in front of her. She nodded her head to tell him to continue, "You already said that."

"I know," Cal whispered. Then he shifted his gaze outside the window that separated the girls' beds, "I know."

Her eyes fell on his hands and she saw that he was torturing his ring she knew Raina had given him for their first anniversary. A nervous tic that characterised practically every adult in that house. Celia was just waiting for the day when Nora, too, was given a ring and she, too, would start twisting it between the index finger and thumb of her opposite hand.

They were silent for a few seconds and Celia was about to speak, make his task easier by telling him that everything was fine, that it had just been a particularly tiring day, but the words caught in her throat when he looked back at her and in the most serious tone of voice she had ever heard him use, he said, "You know you're my best friend right?"

Celia didn't know how to respond. She wasn't even sure if she was actually breathing. That's why she forced herself to get some air into her lungs. That strained breath must have sounded like a sob or a gasp, because Cal grimaced before resuming.

"I know it's not always like this Cece, but you're my best friend.

"I'm sorry for leaving you like that last night. I was an asshole and I shouldn't have acted like that. I have no excuse for ignoring you and then leaving for Raina's without helping you first, but I want to tell you something." he looked at her with such intensity that she didn't understand how he could speak. She nodded slowly.

"You will always be my sister. You will always be the person I love most in the world. You, Nora, Andra, Ezra." he swallowed noisily, "You are my life and I love you. Understand?"

Celia nodded with slightly wide eyes.

"We're growing up. These years won't be like the ones we had when we were younger, but that doesn't mean I don't love you as much as ever. That I hate you." he shuddered at those words, "Hell, Ce, I could never hate you. Not even if you did me the greatest wrong in the world.

"We'll go back to being close, as close as... as-" he grunted, throwing his hands to the sky, "Like two broad beans in a pod."

Celia chuckled, frowning, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, it's not important," he smiled. "What is important is that you understand that no one in this family hates you. No one could ever hate you."

The words were out before she could stop them, "It seems that way sometimes."

Cal contracted his jaw, "I know, I'm sorry," he said in a lower voice, "I can tell you something that will probably make you feel better."

"Alright."

"Ezra and I are essentially five years apart, and," he straightened, running a hand through his hair, "There was a time when I was a senior in middle school, just like you, and when he was a junior in high school at the same time."

"That must have been hard for you," Celia whispered.

Cal nodded, smiling at her reassuringly, "It was one of the worst times of my life, I think. I was sure Ezra wouldn't consider me a friend anymore, just a brother, because he's legally forced to be that, you know." they both chuckled, "But no, Ezra was just growing up and you get to a point where your interests are too different to keep getting involved in everything the other does.

"It definitely happened to Nora with me and it's going to happen to Andra with you," then, seeing the scared look on her face that one day she would make her little sister feel the way her older siblings were making her feel at that moment, he added, "But Cece, that's life. I'm not saying it's easy, but it's not your fault. It happens."

"It still hurts." she pointed out again.

Cal reached out to her, putting both hands on her shoulders, "I know, but I can assure you that the second you get old enough and mom and dad will let you hang out with Nora, you'll completely forget you ever felt that way."

"Was it like that for you and Ezra?"

He nodded, getting up to sit on her bed next to her, "It took me a little longer than it will take you, because of the bigger age gap, but yeah." he nodded, smiling at her, "When Ezra and I started 'playing together' again," he said mimicking the quotes with his fingers, "It was like all the years we were too far apart to actually have fun together faded away. It was like finding an old friend you thought you'd never see again." he put an arm around her shoulders, bringing her against his side, "That's why I'm telling you not to worry."

Celia closed her eyes, muttering, "You were still an asshole, though. And so was Nora. And a little bit Ezra too."

She felt Cal shake while chuckling, "Andra wasn't? At least she's safe."

"Oh, shut up," she said, breaking free from her brother's grasp.

Cal looked down at her, a smile all too similar to their father's on his lips, "I love you, Cece." he said under his breath.

She nodded, feeling her cheeks heat up, "I love you too."

Then Cal laughed, running a hand over his face to stop the giggles and avoid waking their parents.

"What's up?" asked Celia in an amused tone.

"God," Cal breathed, trying not to laugh, "I can't wait until you and Nora are old enough to drink. Ezra and I have to take you to see so many places."

Celia rested her hands on her knees. She still didn't understand all that drinking hype, but she was sure her brothers would give her unforgettable experiences.

Cal let himself fall backwards on the bed, covering his face with an arm, "I'm sorry for acting like that yesterday, I'll try to pay more attention to your needs or whatever you want." he murmured after the laughter was fully subsided.

Celia lay next to him on the mattress, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, "It's nothing, I'm fine now."

"It's not nothing," Cal said, firmly, "The fact that you had to reach such a breaking point that you couldn't hold back the crying isn't nothing, don't even think that as a joke."

When she didn't answer, he took it as an invitation to continue.

"And I know dad already told you, but talk to us before you break down like that."

Celia swallowed, trying to chase away the tears, "I will." she finally whispered.

She heard Cal sigh, "Come here," before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. Celia closed her eyes, letting her older brother hold her, letting him give her the love they all said they felt for her.

Finally feeling the entirety of that weight being lifted from her shoulders, she fell asleep with Cal's voice promising her incredible adventures and memorable nights in a future Celia never imagined would be so close.

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wendystales · 4 years ago

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Three)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Two ※※※※※ Chapter Four

My mother spent the night with me and early in the morning I managed to convince her to go home and sort out her own things. Stephen was supposed to arrive at 8 am and I didn't want her here when that happened, she wouldn't like to see him at all.

“If there's anything I'll call, you can go, really.” I assure her, who goes reluctantly.

The clock struck five to eight and I was for the thousandth time running my hands through my hospital gown and my hair. My hands were sweating and my stomach was churning, I stared at the door as if I wanted to open it with the power of my mind, until it opened.

It was shocking to see him so different from what I remembered. His hair was shaved and bleached, almost white. Now he had a colorless rose on his neck that took up half of his left side and a piercing in his septum. He was a different person, just like me, it really had been years.

“Only Marnie McGonagall manages to remain exuberant even all run down.” he cracks a wide smile to break the tension. “These are for you!” he hands me a bouquet of daisies. They're not my favorite, but I thank him.

“Thank you, they are beautiful. Thank you for coming.” I try to control my breathing. It's all so strange.

“I was surprised by the call, I swore that after you left you would never speak to me again.” he throws himself on the chair beside the bed.

“So our breakup was real?”

“Yes, but not the way you were told, you met this famous guy and fell for him. We had already broken up when I started going out with Bethany.” he talks as if he is talking about the weather. The mention of him and Bethany together makes me nauseous, maybe it was jealousy.

“My mother talked about cheating, that I caught you guys.” I introduce the subject calmly, I know how much Stephen hates to be accused of anything. He rolls his eyes like he' s saying ‘I knew it.’.

“It impresses me that you buy that, Lizzie. You know how much your parents hate me. You broke up with me, that's true, but because you met this guy. He bewitched you, and it wasn't easy to get over you.”

I take a deep breath trying to control myself. It was too much information, too much information. I had broken up with Stephen for Luke, this didn't make any sense. I loved Stephen, I still do. Maybe this memory loss was a chance for us to get back to the way things were before.

“Did you and Bethany...?”

“No! It didn't work out, then she moved to Canada with her family, it wasn't going to work out, and deep down…” he comes closer, sitting on the bed and holding my hand. “I still love you.”

I open my mouth, but can't say anything, the statement takes me in total surprise. Stephen seizes the moment and kisses me. Nostalgia overwhelms me and all the moments we have lived through take over my mind, but deep, deep down, something screams in my head, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. It wasn't him.

I lower my head breaking the kiss, feeling more lost than before. Stephen holds himself in place, but my urge is to push him away. Something bubbles up inside me and it is not happiness or passion.

“I think it's time for you to go.” I let out a harsher tone than I expected. I still don't face his eyes, maybe out of fear, maybe because I can't bear to look at him.

“You call me here and send me away like this?” he asks incredulously and offended. “You are unbelievable, Marnie. I don't know why I still waste my time with you. Your memory may have faded, but deep down you are still under his spell.” at that moment I abruptly turn my face to meet his. I know that my eyes are burning with anger, and so are his.

“I said, it's time for you to go.” I say in a broken voice, listening to my heartbeat rise.

Stephen stares for a few seconds before he gets up, picks up the daisies, and slams the door. I sink into bed, trying to calm myself. It really wasn't one of my better ideas to call Stephen here, but maybe it was necessary.

I turn on the TV and flip through the channels until I notice a picture of me. I go back to the channel and turn up the volume. They are talking about my accident and without me being able to prepare myself, they play the video of how it all happened.

I hold my breath as the pickup truck crashes into my side, causing my car to spin on the road and crash into the pole. They play it one more time, but in slow motion. The tip of my nose tingles and my eyes start to fill up.

Still watching the TV, my mind brings back the moment of the accident.

"I crank up the starter and before I can send the audio, I feel a loud impact on my left side. A deafening noise fills the entire car. Quite faintly, I watch the track spin and feel the shards of glass hit me, before I give myself over to that uncontrollable sleep."

The video changes and they show my attending, I cover my mouth, watching my unconscious body being pulled from the car.

My stomach clenches and I feel like vomiting from the nervousness. I turn off the TV and grab my cell phone, going back to researching my life in an attempt to distract myself.

Unlike yesterday, I Google my name and see what headlines pop up about me. Some sites give a brief summary of my trajectory, which helps me a little.

I watch some videos of rehearsals, interviews, fashion shows, even those videos of paparazzi leaving restaurants, with him. I look again at Instagram calmly, photo by photo, video by video, even the stories archives. There are several parties, trips, slumber nights, bts from photo rehearsals, and a lot of stuff with him, again. Of course, he is your boyfriend. Asshole!

I barely recognize myself on the screen. The Marnie I watch is outgoing, funny and charismatic, and I was never like that, at least as far back as I can remember. Which leads me to believe that this Marnie, model, famous and full of important friends, is a character.

Leah, Noah, Calum, Ashton, Mike and Kyleen. They don't just seem like friends, they seem like my family, brothers, I don't know. While it is fun to watch some of these videos, of all of us fooling around and messing up, on the other hand it hurts not to have any memories of them.

“How is my little girl doing?” I snap out of my trance and run my eyes to the door. I feel my eyes water as I recognize the middle-aged man.

“Dad!” I hadn't realized the urge to cry until I saw him. Until I felt his embrace.

“ It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's going to be all right, I swear!” he comforts me while I soak his shirt.

“ I'm sorry.” I pull away, trying to control my tears.

“For what?” he looks at me curiously. I shrug, not knowing what to say. Lately I feel I have to apologize for everything. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This amnesia is just a sequel, in a little while it will go away and you will remember everything.”

“I hope so. Even because everything I've forgotten has been very hard to remember.” I comment, playing with the bar of the blanket.

“ It's been a busy three years. You went from just my little girl, to one of the top models of 2019. That's quite a breakthrough.” he laughs, which makes me crack a smile. Only my dad could make me find that funny.

“Apparently I'm dating a rock star.” I join in with him.

“A very nice guy, I must say. He gave me a Gibson guitar.” he widens his eyes, emphasizing how awesome that was.

“Dad, you play guitar?” that would be nothing compared to what I couldn't remember.

“No, but it is amazing to have it on the wall.” for the first time since this whole nightmare, I allow myself to laugh.

My father spent the rest of the morning with me. He told me about his new job and how he was traveling the world now, helping his boss. I don't know how my mother was dealing with all this, she hated to be away from him.

“Mom must not like this new job of yours at all, huh?” I ask, scraping my red Jell-O.

I glare at my father when I notice his silence. We were sharing the bed space, he also had a Jell-O and we looked like two little girls gossiping while stuffing themselves with ice cream. I find his silence strange and wonder if something is wrong.

“Dad?” I call him once more.

“I was trying to find the best way to tell you this.” he sits up straight.

“What? Did you and Mom have a fight?” that was normal, not that big a deal.

“No! Actually, a little more than two years ago, your mother and I talked and we thought it was better to go our separate ways... with different people.” he speaks very slowly, calmly, and a little fearfully. I blink a few times, taking in the words and what they meant together. They got divorced?

I sit up like him, feeling uneasy. I start to breathe deeply. My relationship went down the drain. My parents broke up. Bethany disappeared across Canada. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that I had before had survived.

“Honey?” he brings me back to reality.

“Why? What? What happened?’ I ask. He opens his mouth a few times, saying nothing, trying to find what to say.

“Things were not going very well anymore. We were arguing too much and not even looking at each other anymore.” he takes a deep breath, visibly uncomfortable. “And I had an affair with a woman from my old job, that was the end of it.” he says so low, I can hardly hear, and honestly, it was better not to listen.

I always grew up thinking that my father was the best man in the world. My superhero. Prince Charming from all the Disney movies. The kind of man I would like to meet in my life. And then I find out that my father was none of these things. He is just like all the others.

“How could you?” disgust overflows in my mouth. “You have a family.” again something bubbles up inside me.

“I have no excuse, no justification, I was wrong and I regret the way things turned out. It didn't have to be this way. Okay, today your mother and I are friends and we go our separate ways, but there was no need for all that suffering to happen.” he stares again at the jelly, ashamed.

Silence fills the room. Nobody knows what to say. I don't recognize the man next to me. I don't even know what is going on in my head at the moment, there are so many thoughts and assumptions that I feel like I'm going crazy.

“Have you found someone yet? I mean, are you still with that woman from your old job?” I ask softly, poking the skin on my finger.

“No, she was just a fling. It didn't work out. Your mother was seeing someone until last month, but apparently it didn't work out.” he shrugs, which shocks me a little. I know it's so natural for them, but I'm still absorbing it here. “I met someone, Meredith. We've been together for a year now.” he gives me a beautiful, passionate smile. “Let me show you some pictures.” He gets as excited as a teenager. “Unless you don't want to.” he looks at me fearfully.

“I want to.” I crack a tight smile.

My father is back to being the excited teenager as he shows me the pictures of Meredith and her children. Children?

“They're yours?” I ask slightly jealous.

“No, Kendall and Samantha are from her first marriage, they are twins.” he smiles. “But I love them as if they were my own, the same way I love you.” he gives me a kiss on the side of my head.

He passes me another picture and my heart races as soon as I see them both, he on my lap and she on Luke's lap. I hold up the cell phone and stare at the picture with an ache in my chest.

“This was at my wedding, you both looked beautiful.” my father comments softly. I bite my lip, trying to control my crying and smiling at the same time. We really did look beautiful.

“I always wanted to have brothers, remember?” I ask with my voice shaking. I pass another picture and now my father and Meredith are posing with the four of us.

“They think you are the best big sister in the world.” I grimace, letting the tears come over me. They are not from sadness. Honestly, I don't even know what they are from, but the feeling is good.

Around lunchtime my father left, as he was exhausted, he had come straight here from the airport after a 12 hour flight. I was alone for the rest of the afternoon reading, until my mother arrived at 4pm to pick me up.

When we left the room, I noticed that Luke didn't come, which I find strange, since I remember my mother had commented that he was coming with her.

“He had an upcoming incident with the band, but he should be at your apartment later.”

The fact that I have to wait longer to talk to him makes me nervous and anxious. I just wish he would show up soon so he could help me with everything and clear up the sea of curiosity.

Along the way, I am talking to my mother about her and my father. I was so distracted by the conversation that I didn't even notice when we arrived in front of a beautiful building.

“Are you sure we are at the right address?” I ask looking out the window. My mother laughs and gets out of the car. I live here?

When we get to my floor, I realize that there is only one apartment per floor. We must be at the wrong address. My jaw drops as I enter the hall of the apartment.

Right away I find a huge painting of myself on the wall to my left. I was wearing that strange make-up and an even stranger outfit. The tone is black and white, but I am sure that the color picture is very colorful.

“This was the picture of your first magazine cover.” my mother clarifies with a huge smile on her face. I stare at my picture again, still frowning.

I follow my mother into the living room, once again letting my jaw drop. I had a living room right at the entrance, to my right was the living room with a huge TV, and to my left was the dining room. Slowly, I walk through the space, looking at everything breathlessly.

“Is this my apartment?” I ask in surprise. My mother lets out a short laugh before confirming. “I bought it?” she nods. “With my money?” she nods again. “As a model?” she laughs. “Okay! This is still too much for me.”

I walk curiously around the apartment again, looking at the kitchen, living rooms and, of course, the bedrooms. Two guest rooms and mine. When I reach the second floor, I am confronted with a hallway full of pictures. They range from personal photos to work photos. I pay more attention to the pictures of me and Luke. We are a beautiful couple.

I go into my room and find everything arranged. I let the excitement take over me when I see the closet. I look at the clothes, amazed, besides several boxes of brands like Gucci, Prada and Chanel still unopened.

On the last shelf, I see an older looking box, the slightly faded color catches my eye. I pull out a small ladder and carefully pull the box onto my lap, it wasn't heavy, but doing this with a broken arm and a twisted leg is not easy.

I sit down on the closet floor itself and open the box, wishing I hadn't seen it and maybe never opened it. I gently run my hand over those little souvenirs with tears in my eyes once again. I need to stop crying.

Movie and concert tickets, dried flowers, empty peanut cans, cards, cabin photos, and beer caps, everything I lived through with Luke. The feeling that takes over me is almost suffocating. My body feels and radiates all that it represented, but my mind would not let the image load.

Underneath it all, I pull out a diary and, at the same time that curiosity eats away at me, fear also takes over. I close my eyes and open to a random page.

"I can't believe I modeled at NYFW. OMG! OMG! OMG! It's unbelievable. I'm going to need to watch the runway show about a thousand times before I can believe it."

I flip back a few sheets and stop when I see Luke's name.

"I know it's not a good sign that I'm thinking about him and being so close to him, but I can't help it. Luke is amazing. The way he looks at me, how he listens to me, how he understands me, and his kiss...I can't forget his kiss..."

“Sweetheart?” I hear my mother scream. I wipe away the tears and put the little box under the skirt of some dresses. I get up as fast as I can and walk to the bedroom door.

“Yes?”

“I thought I'd help you in the shower, what do you think? Get rid of that hospital smell.” I accept the idea, which sounds very good.

After a good shower, I put on some pajamas and get to know my room, opening all the drawers, looking at all the makeup, everything. I decide not to go through that box anymore, because I still don't know how to manage everything it represents.

Once again my mother calls me and I believe it's for dinner, but when I get to the living room I find a brunette girl and a guy with red hair.

“Hi?” I nod gracelessly.

“Hi!” they return the greeting a little nervous too.

I ‘know’ who they are. Ashton and Leah. They are in several pictures in my social networks, in my hallway and on the living room furniture.

I watch the brunette with long hair, crack a huge smile. I watch her fingers tightening, like a child trying to control herself. I smile fearfully, but it was enough for her to apologize before squeezing me in a hug.

“I know you don't remember me, but I am your best friend and I am so glad that you are okay.” I look at my mother, who is smiling, and at Ashton, with my eyes wide and patting her on the back.

“Leah, you don't have to suffocate her.” Ashton comments without manner, scratching his forehead.

She walks away gracelessly. I give her a smile, but thank her for the space. Ashton approaches a little fearfully and holds out his hand, respecting my space, but it is apparent that he also wants to give me a hug.

“You can hug me, I don't bite.” I joke, trying to break the tension.

He says nothing more and surrounds me with his arms. Unlike Leah, I manage to return the hug in the right way. His hug takes longer and I feel some tears on my shoulder.

“I thought we were going to lose you.” he squeezes me one more time, before pulling away, drying his tears clumsily.

“You won't get rid of me that easily.” I blink at them both.

“Well, the reason we came here was not just to see you. Of course we were worried to death and everyone wanted to come.” Leah begins.

“But we thought it better not to come all at once so as not to frighten you.” Ashton interrupts quickly. I thank him silently.

“Deep down, we wanted to bring you this.” she hands me a pen drive. “It's not perfect, but we made a powerpoint to explain everything that happened in these three years.” Leah gives a closed smile.

‘You made a power point?” I ask incredulously.

“Of course we did!” Ashton shakes his shoulders. “We hope it helps and that you remember something. Anything at all, any questions, just call.”

“Thank you very much!” I smile in appreciation for both of them.

“Don't you want to stay for dinner?” my mother offers. I look at them expectantly. They both look at each other and give a shrug.

“We don't have an appointment, right? It won't be a problem. The guys will just be really pissed off that they didn't come.” Leah warns Ashton.

“It will be a pleasure to have dinner.” Ashton smiles in appreciation.

Dinner was very quiet, I did most of the talking. They were very curious to know what amnesia was like and how I was feeling and dealing with everything.

“Depending on how things go for you this week, we thought we would have a dinner on Friday. Then if you feel comfortable, of course, you can see everyone again.” Ash suggests.

There is still time until Friday, but just the thought of seeing everyone makes my stomach turn. I know they are my friends and they know me, but I still get nervous. Not to mention that they are famous, I don't know how to deal with these people. Although I am too.

“That's fine, we'll confirm by Friday.” I open a nervous smile. “Huh, Luke didn't want to come?” I question, upset at his absence today.

How am I supposed to get to know and get close to him if he doesn't come?

I watch the two of them look at each other and wrap up the beginning of their answer. In the end, Ashton sighs and answers.

“He is having a hard time absorbing all this. He just needs some time to sort it all out in his head.” Ash shrugs, signaling that it was no big deal.

I understand that it is hard for him. I don't know how I would handle it if I were him, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset that he's not here either, although I can't do anything about it, I'm not going to force him to stay here if he doesn't want to.

“It's really weird having Luke as my boyfriend, you guys as best friends. It's so out of reality. It feels like I'm in a dream and soon I'll wake up.” I comment, playing with the cloth napkin.

“Look, the first time you handled and accepted all of this well. I'm sure you'll manage again.” Leah squeezes my hand on the table.

“So, a powerpoint, hm?” I change the subject not being able to prolong my curiosity any longer. Even though I'm scared, I want to see it.

Leah cheers up again and begins to explain everything very excitedly. With their help we go to the living room and I put the pen drive on the TV, ready to see what they have done. It is strange to think that this small object has all the answers I am looking for. Not to mention the fear of the unknown, in this case, the forgotten one.

“Ok, so this is Michael…” I watch her standing beside the screen, explaining everything to me, with extreme patience and good will. My god, she is an angel.

I look at all my friends and the things we have done. I notice how Ashton was a kind of older brother, overprotective, and Leah was a kind of sister. Always holding hands or holding arms. Or when we were drunk, trying to climb on each other's backs.

They put all the trips we took, my fashion shows and photo shoots, some interviews. It was a great summary. I stare at the screen feeling something strange welling up in me, I see flashes forming in my head, and I begin to force myself to remember.

“Don't skip.” I shout to her, not wanting to lose the flow of memory. “Play that video again.” I ask desperately.

I approach the TV watching Noah, Leah's brother, walking in front of the camera with a bag on his head and complaining that the product was burning. He was bleaching his hair.

" “Why does this shit burn so bad?” I hear Noah shouting from the room, pissed off.

“Because it's bleaching.” I answer, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I sit down on the couch next to Calum, who is very interested in the package of bleach.

“What do you think about me bleaching mine?” he asks, still focused on the package in his hand.

I stare at him for a few minutes, trying to imagine the look. I pout, signaling that it wouldn't look too bad, in my opinion.

“For God's sake, you're not going to do that ridiculous lock of hair again, are you?” Leah shouts from the bathroom.

“It wasn't ridiculous.” He defends himself loudly. “But I really wouldn't do it again.” he comments softly, making me laugh.

“OH MY GOD.” I hear Noah scream. We run into the bathroom to find his white hair, with a few colored dots, just like the ones in the bag.

I cover my mouth in shock. Leah starts to record trying to hold in her laughter, as do I, but we simply can't stand it when Calum reads the name of the pharmacy in Noah's head.

I see him leaning against the doorframe laughing with his hand on his stomach and eyes closed. Miserably, I still try to hold in my laughter, not lasting long and joining Calum, becoming almost breathless.

“Oh man.” he dries his tears, laughing again next."

“Noah didn't want to go out anymore that night. We ordered burritos and stayed at his place. Calum and I spent the whole night laughing about it.” I speak too fast, running over a few words. I replay the scene in my head a few more times still flustered.

They both look at me and Leah starts jumping up and down in celebration. I remembered, I remembered! I start yelling at her, celebrating.

“What's wrong?” my mother comes running from the bedroom.

“I remembered. I remembered Noah with bad hair!” I shout, out of breath. The three of them hug me and again we shout.

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years ago

Text

To never being parted (Kitty Fan Fic) - Part 2 Chap 1 - I meant what I said

This is the sequel to my flower cards inspired Kitty Fan Fic “Am I Forgotten?”

It gets pretty wild and I am way too shy to tagg anyone on this but don’t hesitate if you want me too.

AO3 Link here.

****

“Ty- Ty, can I touch you... here?”

“Of course, you can. Kit, I told you…”

“Yes, I remember. I can touch you anywhere I want to. You don’t mind if it’s me.”

“Actually, you can touch me anywhere you want to. But what I want is for you to touch me everywhere.”

****

“EARTH TO KIT?”

Kit startled.

“Yep. Back to Earth. Sorry, I was in Heaven.”

Jace lifted a golden eyebrow.

They were in the middle of the Institute’s training room and had been doing experiments with Kit’s wings for the past two hours. Staying focused had not been an easy task. Pictures of the moments Kit had spent with Ty on the Institute’s roof the previous evening kept springing to mind, at the most unexpected moments.

What happens on the Institute’s roof stays on the Institute’s roof, Kit reminded himself.

He was now on top of one of the rafters, wings unfolded, and he was supposed to… What was it again?

“I am on it,” Kit said. “As soon as you remind me what it is I am supposed to do.”

Jace sighed.

“I think we can call it a day. I have other things to do. It is my birthday after all.”

Kit folded his wings and executed a front flip, landing gracefully on the floor.

“Not using your wings?” Jace smiled.

“Where would be the fun in that?”

“Spoken like a true Herondale. So, they don’t hurt you anymore? Not even a bit?” Jace asked as they were heading out of the training room.

“No. I guess it only hurts the first time.”

“That is true of other things.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t. So, what are your plans before you join the best party of the year tonight?”

“Shower. I’ll probably head to the library afterwards.”

“Doing some research? I believe the Centurions have been spending most of their afternoon there.”

“Really? Didn’t know that.”

“Sure, you didn’t.”

****

When Kit arrived at the Institute’s library, he spared a moment to stand in the doorway to observe Ty at his leisure.

Ty was bent over a book, his headphones on. His hair slanted across his face and his long eyelashes created a dark curtain over his gray eyes. His long, calloused fingers were caressing the page of the book he was reading, and Kit remembered with a blush how they had felt on his bare skin.

Ty picked a pen and wrote a few lines in a black leather-bound book. He paused, and brought the pen to his lips, staring at the page thoughtfully, his head cocked to the side. Slowly, unconsciously, he traced the shape of his lower lip with the tip of the pen. Kit watched intently as Ty slipped the pen into his mouth and started nibbling.

Holy shit. Scratch the angel wings. Kit wanted to be a pen.

He was brought back to the moments he had shared with Ty the previous night on the New York Institute’s roof.

They had spent hours kissing and touching, as if they needed to make up for all the time lost, until the chill of the night air had chased them inside. He had felt like he could never get enough of Ty’s caresses, his flesh reacting to each touch as if it was the first, each graze of Ty's fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake. Ty kept whispering words they both liked, his lips brushing over Kit’s skin, as they traced the scars and Marks all over Kit's body. Words Kit strained to hear through the pounding of his heart inside his ribcage like a church bell echoing in his ears. Kit had come inside his pants, but had barely noticed as his body was in a constant state of euphoria. He had felt like he was flying, as if the butterflies fluttering around his stomach were lifting him.

“So, you can fly?” Kit snapped out of his reverie as Anush came to stand before him, a wide grin on his face, one of his arms secured in a cast. “Isn’t that any man’s dream? And you have wings. Actual wings. How cool is that ?”

“It’s pretty cool,” Kit answered. His dream was to be a pen. What could you do?

“So, Beatriz and I are heading out to shop for a last minute birthday gift. Do you want to come with us?”

“Nah, I am good.”

“Ok, see you later then.”

As Anush moved out of the way, Kit noticed that Ty had not moved his gaze from the book he was reading.

Kit felt a pang of disappointment, but tried to ignore it as he went to hunt for a book. After all, he needed an excuse to be in the library.

As Kit scanned the bookshelves, he noticed a large leather-bound book, with golden inscriptions on it, on one of the top shelves. He couldn’t make out the words but he knew from his lessons with Tessa and Jem that it was an ancient language. He tiptoed to grab the book but it was beyond his reach. It was at this moment that he felt a long body pressed against his back and froze.

“Allow me,” said a low clear voice, that sent an electric current down Kit’s stomach. Long delicate fingers seized the book and handed it to Kit.

With the item in hand, Kit turned slowly to face Ty. It was not an easy task, seeing how close Ty was to him.

Kit cleared his throat. “You do know I have wings, right? I could use them to reach higher places than you do.”

“Let’s make a deal. Sometimes, you take care of me.” Ty said, cocking his head to one side. ”Sometimes, I take care of you.” He cocked his head to the other side.

“So who’s turn is it?” Kit’s voice was quavery. “Mine?”

“Oh, no. You saved my life yesterday. I just fetched a book you could have gotten anyway. It’s still mine.”

Ty leaned further against Kit, their bodies now fitting like two puzzle pieces.

As close as he was, there was no way Ty would not notice the hardness that had started growing against Kit’s stomach.

Ty’s gray eyes widened and his breath hitched as he acknowledged Kit’s arousal. Kit turned his face away, blushing. He didn’t dare to meet Ty’s eyes.

“Kit,” Ty said after a moment. He sounded breathless. “Do you... want me?”

Kit closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“So fucking much it hurts.”

Kit felt Ty’s lips press against his ear, his breath tickling his skin, as he whispered. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Kit opened his eyes and slowly turned to face Ty. Ty’s gaze was ablaze and the pupils had swallowed up all the gray in his eyes, which were now pitch black.

Kit brought one finger against Ty’s temple then moved it down his delicate jawline. Ty closed his eyes.

“I have dreamt about this so many times,” Kit said. He started describing every move his finger made, emboldened by the sound of Ty’s heavy breathing. “Touching your face. Caressing your cheeks. Tracing the circle around your eyes, the shape of your lips…”

“Kit,” Ty interrupted in a deep low voice, opening his eyes. “Why don’t you stop talking about it and just... do me ?”

Kit gasped. “You mean do it ?”

Ty spoke slowly, enunciating every word. “I meant what I said.”

Freaking hell.

****

#cassandra clare fan fiction #cassandra clare #cassandraclare #the wicked powers #the dark artifices #kitty appreciation week #kitty fanfiction #kitty tda #kitty blackstairs #kit herondale #kit herongraystairs #tiberius blackthorn #ty blackthorn #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles

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3pirouette · 4 years ago

Text

Title: An Experimental Design

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts. Takes place about a week after that fic.

Chapter A/N: This chapter is for everyone who has been posting their theories about what will happen. It's always been planned this way since I first started writing, so I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 8: Fallout

~*~

She held his hand out the door, and in the backseat as they drove back to the base. He didn’t acknowledge the tremor in her hand out loud, or that fact that while they both knew that Howard wouldn’t purposely hurt them, everything about the situation was dangerous and unknown.

She only let go when they arrived at the base, slipping the mask of propriety and duty back on, her worried eyes hiding behind a false confidence he could see right through.

~*~

The very first thing she did when they got back to apartment was run for the bathroom, retching sounds filtering all the way back to Steve at the front door. He moved slowly, taking his time to get to her and allow her some privacy. The procedure itself had been quick and nearly painless: two shots each, right in the upper arm, though Steve’s needles were decidedly larger than the ones they used on Peggy. It had taken them longer to get there and back in the car.

Steve grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water as he slipped next to her in the bathroom, handing it to Peggy as he crouched down. “Guess he wasn’t lying about the side effects, huh?”

She nodded, wiping at her mouth and then pillowing her head on her arm, still kneeling at the toilet. “The headache’s started, too.”

He gently ran a hand over her back. “What can I do?”

“I think I’ll stay here for the moment… stomach’s not all that settled yet.”

He rubbed her back gently. “Tea?”

“That would be lovely,” she murmured, her face pinching as she started to feel the waves of nausea again.

Steve let her be, knowing there was little he could do, and set about making her tea. Howard had listed a dozen likely side effects and a few rare ones they were supposed to be aware of that could last hours or days. Howard wasn’t sure how long the doses would last, but he’d given Steve four times more than Peggy and said to keep their fingers crossed and try to avoid excessive touching.

Steve wasn’t going to avoid comforting Peggy while she was crouched over the toilet, but a tiny peck and some gentle touches were hardly the same level of skin to skin contact they’d indulged in recently. He poured the hot water over the tealeaves and waited, watching the water darken. The list of side effects we daunting, but so far, Steve felt fine.

Fine, he thought, was putting it lightly. He felt the clearest he had in days, maybe even months. He opened the kitchen window, taking in the late morning sun and took a deep breath, the light air mixing with the soft scent of Peggy’s tea. He felt awake. Free.

This was working.

The desire he felt for her was just that: desire. It wasn’t the overwhelming lust or the desperate need for her any longer, just the low simmering love he’d felt before all of this started, ready to ignite with a touch or a kiss.

He turned, meeting her eyes as she joined him, staying by the doorway. Her color looked better already, though she had a glassy look still in her eyes. “Better?” he asked.

“Seems, for the mo’ at least.” She took a slow, deep breath in and out. “Headache isn’t too bad,” she grabbed the mug from the counter and took a slow sip, “It’s bearable. You?”

He didn’t want to flaunt his newfound revelations, not when she seemed to be still struggling. “Feeling ok so far.” He shrugged, wanting to reach out. Their directive to not touch made things awkward and stilted.

“I think I’ll take a lie in, just for a bit.” Peggy clutched her mug.

“Yeah,” he waved his hand, nodding over and over again, feeling silly and stupid and suddenly like he was 98 pounds all over again. “Yeah, just… just call if you need me.”

Her lips stayed pressed together when she smiled. Her nod was just as awkward as his, eyes retreating to her tea as she turned.

~*~

He sat on the couch, sketching her through the door to the bedroom. She’d left it open a crack, and he’d quietly widened it when he went to check on her. From his spot curled into the side of the sofa he had a perfect view of her face, overtaken by sleep, her curls falling and lips parted just slightly.

He hoped the vomiting and the headache and the fatigue meant it was working. It was hard not to feel trapped and used, he thought, as he added shading to her cheek. Despite the positive, the time and the touches, and the very clear understanding that they were in love, it felt wrong and broken to be forced together like this.

He wanted them to be living happily in a little apartment or small house in the suburbs because the war was over and they wanted to be there, not because they had to be together even if they did love one another.

The difference was small, but it mattered.

He wished he had a set of pastels to flush out the pink in her cheeks and the red of her nails, some blues and yellows to try to capture the way the sunlight tried to peek through the drawn curtains.

Steve had gotten used to the magnetic pull of her, the need to be around her, to touch her. Yesterday, he wouldn’t have thought twice about shedding his clothes and slipping into bed with her, pressing up against her and holding her close. Now, though the idea appealed to him, he was content to rest on the couch, eyes keeping watch. He hadn’t realized how strong the pull to touch her was from his end until it left him today.

He started to feel his eyelids droop as he smudged the pencil line of the blanket around her shoulder. He wasn’t normally one to nap, but it would help pass the time. Going for the entire day without touching her seemed like a monumental task. He slipped his pencil into his notebook and let it fall on his chest as he stretched out.

A quick catnap would help the day pass faster.

~*~

Peggy rolled, the blankets tangling around her. She took a deep breath, wiggling her fingers and toes and taking stock on how she felt. The nausea was gone, and though she’d slept for what she thought must have been a few hours she didn’t feel refreshed.

She turned, blinking her eyes open. Through the crack in the door she could see Steve, sprawled on the couch that was far too small, head thrown back and mouth wide open, his sketchbook perilously close to falling from his slack fingers on his chest.

She couldn’t help but smile. He seemed so soft, so innocent, so much like that small man she’d first met, even if the sheer size of him made the couch seem more like a piece of child’s furniture. Peggy slipped from the bed, wrapping her robe around herself as she made her way out into the living room. She snuck quietly across the floor, feeling the need to run her fingers through his hair, to be near him.

She wanted to believe it was working, but so far she’d only felt the ill effects that Howard had talked about. They’d have to stay away from one another for hours to see if it truly worked, and based on the pull she felt she wondered if they were even capable of that if they were this close to one another.

She did some quick math, glancing at the clock across the room and decided that it must be doing something. She should have felt something by now. The only thing she felt was the need to be around him, no tingling or discomfort at all.

Peggy stopped at the edge of the couch, one hand holding her robe together, the other gently playing over his hair, touching only enough to feel the softness against her fingertips, not enough to graze his scalp and tempt fate.

She felt a need to wrap herself in him. Not the all-consuming need that had been based in need and pain and sex, but a different kind of feeling that felt like it was spreading from deep in her, to wrap him up and be wrapped in him and stay in this small little apartment until they couldn’t avoid the outside world any longer.

He shifted under her, taking a deep breath and reaching out. She scooted her hips away, avoiding his reach but kept her hand on his head. He groaned unhappily, and she made soothing, shushing noise ass he raked her finger nails through his hair. “We’re already doing a horrible job of not touching, my darling. Let’s not tempt fate.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but he turned, pressing his head into her touch. She reached out, saving the notebook from crashing to the floor. She set it on the coffee table in front of him and smiled, the pencil rolling out and flipping the book open to the picture of her. She kissed his hair, eyes closed softly, warmth radiating through her.

The little apartment felt warm, home, and enough for now. She wasn’t in pain, wasn’t hurting, and she had Steve. It was enough, could be enough, for now at least. She slipped into the kitchen, trying to keep things as quiet as she could while she made herself another cup of tea. Would he still sketch when there were chores to be done? Would they still be so gentle with one another when the stresses of daily life were different? Would he stay with the SSR? Would they let her keep being a spy or cast her off, saying women weren’t necessary when there wasn’t a war on? There were so many unknowns, but she still somehow felt warm, solid, and happy.

Whatever Howard’s hormones were doing to her, she didn’t much mind; it was the calmest she’d felt in weeks.

~*~

She was still sitting in the kitchen, the dregs of her tea cold in her hands, when Steve lumbered in, eyes glazed over. She watched as he pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the tap, chugging the contents down before refilling it over and over again. He drank with a singlemindedness that put her on edge. It was only after he’d drank what she thought was nearly a gallon that he stopped, hands on the edge of the counter, panting to catch his breath.

“Thirsty?” Peggy asked quietly, unsure if he’d even registered she was in the room.

He took a slow, deep breath and hung his head. “Yeah I—” He took another and turned, wiping the drips of water from his lips. “I woke up and I just felt like I hadn’t had anything to drink in days.” His eyes caught the afternoon sun out the window. “How long was I asleep?”

She smiled, standing and walking her mug to the sink. “We both lost a few hours there, I think. It’s almost 4.” She turned, brushing his hair from his eyes, looking him over. “Are you alright otherwise?”

He nodded quickly, almost too quickly for her liking. “Yeah, I’m… I’m just… didn’t think I’d sleep that long. I’m a little out of it.”

She let her lips kiss his shoulder, careful to keep her skin away from his. “We can continue to blame stress and Hydra. I’ll have it no other way.”

He set his hands on her hips, as careful as she was. “How about you? Still feeling alright?”

She nodded, a smile on her lips. “Stomach’s still a touch unhappy, but I think that’s more from not eating since early this morning. Otherwise, I’m…” she shrugged her shoulders, still cautious about expressing her happiness, “zero.” She couldn’t help the way the smile bloomed on her face. “We haven’t touched enough for me to not feel something by now. I don’t want to go too far, but I’m…optimistic.”

“Good, good.” He smiled tightly, his eyes struggling with something he didn’t want to share. His hands were awkward at her hips, like he had to remind himself to be gentle with her, and his shoulders were stiff. She narrowed her eyes at him, waiting. They knew each other well enough that she didn’t have to say anything for him to know he’d been caught. He shook his head, resigned and stepping away. “I think whatever side effects I’m going to get are hitting me now. I just feel… weird. A little… I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“What can I do?” She asked, stepping back and giving him some more space as he leaned back against the counter.

He looked out the window, crossing his arms and shaking his head. After a long, quiet moment he licked his lips and turned back to her. “Let me make dinner… well, early dinner. Maybe it’ll help me focus.”

Peggy didn’t like the way he looked: a little sallow, eyes a little hollow, the way he looked after he’d been hurt in a firefight and he was trying to be brave for everyone else. She backed away, giving him the room. “I’ll be reading, just call if you need help.”

His smile was genuine, even if it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think I can handle some chicken and dehydrated mashed potatoes.”

Peggy licked her lips, eyes still dead set on him. She thought about joking, about trying to break the tension, but she couldn’t shake the feeling something hadn’t gone quite right with his dose. “I can call Howard, he could be here in fifteen minutes he said if anything went wrong.”

This time, the smile did make it to his eyes. “I’m fine, Peg. I promise.” He crossed to her, taking her head in his hand and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “And I’ll tell you if I’m not, ok?”

It was the sincerity in his eyes that finally gave her some sense of footing. “Alright.” She stepped back, removing the temptation to give in to more touching. “Don’t burn my potatoes.”

~*~

Peggy’s stomach was growling loud enough for Steve to hear by the time he announced dinner was ready. She tried to make a joke of it, but it fell flat as he set a full plate in front of her.

They ate silently, Steve quietly watching Peggy as she filled her mouth, struggling to keep her lips closed and be ladylike as she chewed. “I’m starved,” she tried to justify with a little laugh between bites, feeling his eyes on her. He ate sparingly, his eyes darting to her each time she took a bite. “Must be the…” she stopped, putting another spoonful in her mouth, watching as Steve only nodded, agreeing to say it was ‘just another side effect.’ She scraped the end of the mashed potatoes from her plate, wrapping her tongue around the spoon, eyes widening in confusion when Steve switched out his mostly full plate for her empty one. “Darling?”

He kept his face carefully blank. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She tipped her head, looking at him cautiously. She was very aware of how much Steve’s increased metabolism needed food, and knew very well how much he could eat. “Aren’t you? You’ve barely eaten.”

“You need it more.”

She smiled, trying to break the tense look in his eyes. “I was just hungry. I’m fine now. And there’s plenty more if—”

He dropped his fork on the empty plate in front of him, standing and pacing away. The air in the room was suddenly thick and it reminded her off too many debriefs where they’d lost and he felt responsible. The deja-vu nearly choked her it hit her so hard, but it helped her re-center and take charge of the situation.

She squared her shoulders, staring at his back. “Tell me.”

“I have to take care of you,” he bit out, grabbing the top of the kitchen doorframe and leaning into it.

With his arms up his shirt tightened around him and she could see just how tense he was, his muscles corded and ready for a fight. She stood slowly, cautiously closing this distance between them. “You are, Steve.” Her voice was soft but sure, and she left no room for arguments. “I’ve never been safer than I am at this very moment.”

He turned so fast she barely registered he’d moved before she was in his arms, his forehead pressed against her tight. It wasn’t concern, but pain on his face: his eyes shut tight, jaw working to try to find the words. “You’re not,” he finally whispered. “Everything in me is screaming that I’m not keeping you safe and…” he dropped his head, gathering her closer and burying his face in her neck. He took a deep breath in like he was breathing her into himself, trying to take her in and surround her. “I need to do better,” he muttered, “I have to do better.”

Peggy was stunned, and could do nothing but wrap her arms around him and hold him tight as he held her.

This was not a side effect Howard had prepared them for.

She cradled his face in her hands, gently pushing him back so she could see his eyes. “I am safe, Steve. I am here, with you, and I am perfectly safe.” She let her hand wipe at the sweat that started to show at his brow, over his jaw and down to his neck where she could feel his racing pulse finally starting to slow. She kissed him gently, pulling away before he could react to her lips. “I am fine. What do I need to do to help you see that?”

His eye squinted shut again as he shook his head. “Don’t know,” he mumbled, making her want to hold him close until whatever this was passed. She’d never seen him like this and it scared her.

She kissed him again, and this time, she could feel his pulse start to slow more the longer they touched.

Even if this was working for her, it seemed to be only hurting him.

Peggy pulled her lips away, pressing her cheek to his and running her hand up and down his back until his pulse quieted under her fingers. When he was significantly calmer, she finally broke the silence. “We need to call Howard.”

It was like he’d never been calm, the way his pulse jumped under her fingers and how his hands grasped tightly at her waist, holding her possessively to him. “No.”

She leaned back, eyes stern. “Steve…”

He shook his head, turning away from her to try to hide whatever it was he was feeling. “We have to go back tomorrow, anyway. Just…” He sighed, turning back to her, his eyes sad and begging. “Not yet, ok?”

If he’d said anything else, she would have fought him, but the words echoed her own past pleading to avoid doctors so closely that she found she couldn’t deny him. He’d always followed her lead, and she found she could do no less. She swallowed hard, and nodded. “But you have to eat something,” she heard herself say, unsure of where it came from or why it was suddenly so important to her.

At his nod she pulled him to the table, sitting him back down in his chair and then scooting his full plate back in front of him. He looked at it, then looked back up at her, and she could only shake her head at him.

She should have been angry, but instead she felt like she was soothing some large, wounded animal laying at her feet, unsure of how to take care of himself now that his fight was over. She perched herself on his lap, reaching over and taking the fork to feed him.

Steve’s hand stopped her own, eyes bewildered at his own actions. “Are you… are you sure you ate enough? You’re not hungry?”

She let her free hand fall over his cheek, resting at his shoulder. “That’s how you’re taking care of me?” He opened his mouth to answer, but he huffed air from his nose as he shrugged and shook his head. He didn’t know, and she didn’t, either. “Alright, then.”

Peggy, nowhere near hungry but understanding baser instincts when she saw them, took a small bite off the end of the piece of chicken on the fork. She held the rest out to him as she chewed, their eyes locked as he pulled the piece from the fork with his teeth and ate it.

It almost made her feel better that Steve seemed as baffled by his behavior as she was, that his eyes were lost and frustrated as he seemed to need to wait until she ate before he could, though as they neared the end of the plate, he took the fork from her and fed himself, his grasp somewhat looser as he held her in his lap.

“First thing tomorrow, no delaying,” she demanded softly as he pushed the plate away. He nodded and she moved from his lap, busying herself and her mind with the dishes. She tried to avoid the racing questions, the wild what-ifs that started to run through her mind as she cleaned the pans and plates, Steve still sitting quietly behind her.

She couldn’t help but smile when she felt him behind her as she stood at the sink, rinsing the last plate. It felt more like the way things had been for him to step up behind her with her hands filled with soap suds. He pressed tight against her, chest to back, and let his hands wrap around her, holding her low on her belly. His nose nuzzled against her nape as she set the last plate to dry, leaning back into him. She heard him take a deep breath in, the air tickled over her skin and made her shiver.

Peggy reached one arm up behind her, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, holding his lips against her flesh as he began to kiss and nip. It was different from how he’d held her at the sink the other day: it was more insistent, more possessive. She tried to avoid the dark thoughts that wanted to seep into her mind as he touched her. He needed her touch right now, and that’s all she cared about.

She couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he felt every time she’d come to him, worked up and needing something only he could give.

Steve growled, low in his throat. It was deep and dark and domineering and something about it excited her. They were supposed to be avoiding touching, but she had barely touched him all day and she felt starved for him.

He felt wound up behind her, the power in his body held back and ready to burst. She wondered if it was the hormones or just the feeling of finally deciding to allow herself to touch him after all the hours of trying to stay apart. Either way, it had been hours since they’d touched before dinner and she felt no pain, no tingling, no discomfort but she yearned for him like she couldn’t explain.

He spun her in his arms, lifting her on to the counter and taking her lips. She kissed him back, happy to let him take the lead, his eyes dark with lust.

~*~

He held her possessively as he slept, in a way Peggy couldn’t ever remember Steve holding her before. On one hand, she felt safe and protected, but on the other, this new, darker side to him was concerning. It was the only reason she’d relented, the only reason she’d allowed him to touch her.

She’d only seen it when she couldn’t process it: when she’d been in so much pain and his skin was the only thing that would bring her relief. She could almost remember the look on his face in the hospital, and again when he crashed through the wall, but tonight she could see his eyes, feel the energy burning through him and she knew, she knew deep down, something about what Howard had done had caused this switch in him.

Touching him helped, just like it had helped her, but he said he didn’t feel pain. He couldn’t describe it to her beyond the idea of keeping her safe. She didn’t know what that meant to him, didn’t know why it tapped into his need to see her eat, then to see her safely to the bedroom, to hold her until he needed to touch and kiss her again, then to hold her until he fell asleep.

She wasn’t sure if the touching was helping all that much, but at least he was asleep.

The knot of anxiety in her stomach started to rise, acid burning and that sickly wave feeling ran through her as she broke out in a sweat. She tried to push away from him but his arms twined around her tighter.

“Mine,” he mumbled in his sleep.

“Steve, let go,” she pushed against him while attempting to slow the rising nausea within her, but trying to move his arms was like trying to dislodge metal clamps. “Please, I have to—”

She knew he wasn’t fully awake, she’d encountered this sleepy, half cognizant Steve before. Usually, he was soft and gentle and smiled at her. This one grumbled and repeated his possession of her, holding tight.

Finally, Peggy could take it no more. She kicked him between the legs, hard, and scrambled to the edge of the bed when he loosened his grip. She didn’t make it to the bathroom, but managed to vomit on the floor, avoiding ruining the bed.

By the time she turned back he was wide awake, pressed up on his elbow, eyes clearer than she’d seen them in hours. She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, kicking her way out of the blankets and climbing out of the bed from the bottom, avoiding looking at him.

“Peggy…” He sat, still confused, “what…”

She nearly ran from the room, making it to the bathroom just in the nick of time. When there was nothing left to come back up, she flushed the toilet and rinsed her mouth before heading back to the bedroom.

The lights were on and Steve was drying the floor where he’d cleaned up her mess. He stopped and stood when she leaned on the doorjamb, spent. “Peggy, I’m so sorry.” He looked down at the towel in his hand and then tossed it over by the laundry bag before looking up to her, his blue eyes full of confusion and sadness. “I’ll call Howard right now.”

She nodded, hands still shaking a bit from vomiting. “I’m going to make a cup—”

“I’ve got it,” he said quickly, moving to her and pressing a kiss to her hair before lifting her from her feet and setting her on the bed. “Lay down, I’ll bring it in after I’ve called Howard.”

She watched him go, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She wanted to argue, but he seemed clearer, more like himself, and she was afraid to open up whatever Pandora’s Box was behind his need to take care of her, at least until Howard got there.

Peggy slipped back into bed, building the pillows up behind her. She might be better, but that meant nothing if Steve was worse.

#Steggy Fic #Steggybingobash #3P's Fic #Now Featuring 100% more Feral!Steve

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