#it was like constantly walking through a sauna yet the air was dry

[sserpente]

A/N: Random idea. Very fluffy. A little awkward… probably what would actually happen if you took Loki to a thermal bath spa when you are seriously crushing on him… enjoy! ;-)

Words: 4087 Warnings: a lot of fluff, sexual themes, implied smut

Birthdays were special—or at least, they should be. For the last decade, however, your own reflection in the mirror had been the only one wishing you a happy birthday. You had grown used to it. Loneliness was not so bad once you learned how to deal with the ache in your heart. But perhaps this year could be different, even though by now, you avoided telling the people in your life about your date of birth.

You had joined the Avengers a little over eight months now—and even though they were all nice and kind, there was only one other person you truly connected with. Loki. The man who had, only a few years ago, attempted to subjugate the entire planet. You shook your head quickly. It had not been his fault, not entirely. He had suffered under Thanos’ torments as much as you had been suffering under your loneliness. He was lonely too. Thor was his brother but he was no longer a friend, not really. The distance between them, albeit not physical, felt heart-breaking to even watch.

Surely, Loki would not be opposed to joining you in the thermal bath spa today. You intended to treat yourself, clandestinely and quietly, for your birthday. Having Loki with you—the man you could not only spend countless sleepless nights with talking about life, desires and fears but also caused your reoccurring and uncontrollable wet dreams. Seeing him shirtless for almost an entire day would put the cherry on top of your imaginary birthday cake.

Cautiously, you knocked on his door, your bag already packed. You would not need more than a book to relax with, some snacks (some of which were healthier than others), a towel and another bikini to change into, especially since the exclusive sauna was a no-clothing area anyway. Oh… if you got Loki to join you there…

“Yes…?” Loki’s disinterested face practically lit up when he realised it was you who had knocked. Smiling, you squeezed yourself through the gap.

“Hi.”

“Good morning.” He frowned, eyeing your bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I am, and I was wondering if you would like to join me. I’m heading to a local thermal bath spa to relax a little. You know… whirlpools, saunas, massages…”

Intrigued, he leaned forward. He remembered receiving positively amazing massages from Asgardian therapists in the palace when he was younger. They had worked wonders on his exhausted muscles after his training with Thor.

“Who else is coming?” He asked.

“No one. Just you and me.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Very well.”

-

It had taken him time to warm up to you, and he had not just once questioned your intentions and sincerity. It warmed your heart, seeing him blithe, cheeky and curious now whenever the two of you were together. It almost felt like catching glimpses of his old, light-hearted self—before he had found out he was a Frost Giant; and that his whole life had been but a lie.

Loki had a good heart—he merely protected it well.

“Are you telling me we are going to share these pools with other people?!” He exclaimed in a downright horrified manner as you walked past the first swimming area to the reception.

“Oh… yes.” You giggled. “I’m afraid so, the spa is open for other customers too, after all. I’ve booked a booth all for myself… so we’ll have as much privacy as possible, alright? Hi!” You smiled at the receptionist who gave you a court nod.

“I’ve made a reservation, the name is (Y/L/N).”

“Oh yes, Ms (Y/L/N), you’re right on time. Please, let me escort you and your partner to your booth. Inside, you’ll find our welcome package, including champagne and the hot chocolate for your massage. If you need anything else, you can pay with your bracelets which will also give you access to our sauna world. Any purchases made will be added to your bill when you check out, other than that… we’re happy to help if you are experiencing any problems.” The words bubbled from her mouth like the gushing waterfall in the whirlpool area.

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you.” You stuttered. You blinked, blushing furiously. Loki spoke up as soon as she was gone and left you to change into your complementary bathrobes.

“Hot chocolate… for our massage?”

“Um… yeah… the package I booked to get this booth is intended for couples, usually.” You had almost forgotten about that when you decided to invite Loki this morning… Well, at least, the booth was nice. Opaque and dimly lit, it reminded you of an indoor-tipi. Inside, a giant round mattress took most of the space, along with a small table with, like the receptionist had promised, the hot chocolate and a bottle of champagne with two glasses.

“Ah. I see.”

Your heart skipped a beat, no, several at once, when Loki’s blue gaze met yours. If only he knew about your wet dreams… with a sigh, you undressed until all there was left was your bikini. You truly couldn’t wait to dive into the whirlpool first thing before your massage appointments, but what you were looking forward to even more was spending an entire day with Loki completely shirtless.

You gulped, quietly, when he followed your example. Quite hilariously, he had been rather unfamiliar with the concept of swimwear. On Asgard, nudity was rarely frowned upon when it came to bathing, whether it was a giant bathtub or a lake—still, Loki had always had the privilege of complete privacy as a prince, so he had told you.

He had refused to borrow one of Tony’s bathing trunks and instead opted for magic. Now, all he was left wearing were a pair of black swimming trunks with green and gold accents, complimenting his pale, yet well-defined and muscly chest.

“Do you like what you are seeing, my dear?” Blinking, you cleared your throat, quickly looking away. You blushed again, causing the God of Mischief to chuckle to himself. He truly was a tease. By now, you had learned this much—Loki was constantly torn between his smugness and confidence because of his physical superiority over you and his own shyness and insecurities whispering to him that as a Jötun, who would ever find him attractive compared to the mighty Thor?

You longed to prove him a lot more often he was indeed a lot more handsome than the Thunderer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said finally, his cheeky grin growing even wider when you grabbed a towel and headed for the whirlpools. Loki followed you amused.

-

“Loki…?”

“Yes, my dear?”

You had been watching him, secretly of course, for the past twenty minutes now. How his muscles danced when he leaned back and closed his eyes, arms spread on the edge of the whirlpool and his Adam’s apple moving slightly when he swallowed… his wet body shimmering in the dim light of the spa… focus.

“Is there a reason nobody else is willing to join us in this particular whirlpool?” He really liked this one. For the past hour, you had been trying them all out. You could tell he preferred those with lower water temperatures. Oddly, however, other customers practically seemed to avoid the pool. Granted, some of them might have recognised him… but surely not all of them.

“I would never…” He teased, opening one eye and glaring at you mischievously. You grinned, shaking your head. For Heaven’s sake, you would only love to swim over to him and sit on his lap, find out what it would feel like to straddle him and to explore his muscles with your wet palms… but you would probably freak him out if you did. Loki had never indicated he had a romantic, let alone sexual interest in you. Your wet dreams would most likely remain just that—dreams. Wishful thinking. You sighed, taking a peek at the huge clock on the wall.

“We have one and half more hours until our massages. I’m gonna dry off and head to the sauna for a bit but you can stay here if you like.”

“No,” he replied quickly. “I will join you.”

You climbed out of the whirlpool with a smile, your body, instead of freezing, growing hot as soon as you heaved yourself out of the water. The cool air should have made you shiver, yet you felt your back burning. Loki was watching you, you were sure of it. Intently.

You returned to your private booth to put on your bathrobe, with Loki following you suit. It was nice and warm inside, perfect for a short break.

“Ugh, stupid hair…” Grumbling to yourself, you struggled to make your wet ponytail presentable again. The God of Mischief chuckled and raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come.” He said, reaching out for you. Blinking, and ignoring your rapid heartbeat, you obeyed. He made you turn around so you were sitting between his legs, holding onto his thigh for support. You had expected so much out of this spa visit with Loki… but not that you would become so aroused throughout the day. This man could be breathing peacefully and it would make you horny. For Heaven’s sake…

You almost purred when he suddenly ran his long fingers through your wet streaks to untangle it a little. He removed the hair tie easily and soon began to part your hair in three. Before you even realised what he was doing, he was already braiding it neatly.

“You… wow. Thank you. How do you know how to do that?” And how do I get you to do this more often? His fingers had felt wonderfully in your hair and on your scalp. You could only imagine him pampering other parts of your body…

“I used to do it for my mother as a child. I always came to hide with her in her dressing room. It somehow calmed me down whenever Thor and his friends… never mind.”

Turn around, a seductive voice in your head screamed. Turn around and kiss him, now! But you did no such thing. Instead, you darted away from him as if stung by an adder, much to his surprise.

“S-sauna.” You said quickly. “ Loki nodded, eyes, however, widening fast when you started taking off your bikini under the bathrobe.

“What are you doing now?”

“Uh, there are no clothes allowed in the sauna.” You mumbled in response, curious about how he would react.

Gosh, ever since your arrival, you were torn between seduce him and pounce on him and run away screaming. You just couldn’t decide… in fact… in fact you wished he would just pull you on his lap and kiss you senseless.

“You mean to run around naked? Among strange men?” He countered as he approached you slowly. He looked good in that white bathrobe, it complemented his wet raven hair… argh, focus! Loki sounded almost… possessive. A sign? Would he kiss you? Pretty please with a cherry on top? Perhaps you should just tell him it was your birthday and ask for a proper kiss as your birthday gift.

“I do it all the time, Loki. No one cares about the nudity in there. Besides, it’s rather dark in the cabins. I understand if you don’t want to do it though, you don’t have to come with me, I can—”

The God of Mischief snorted. “I am not letting you go there alone.”

You paused, mid-sentence, a smile tugging at your lips. Now you couldn’t just kiss him but at least, you could hug him. Loki always acted like he hated the physical affection you often showered him with but in that aspect, he was a bad liar. A sigh escaped his lips when he reciprocated your hug and wrapped his arms around your body. It was so tiny compared to his, the urge to protect growing within him like an ancient, primal need. Mine… he blinked.

Oh no, you were a mortal. He would not make the same mistake as his brother and fall for a woman who would die centuries before him.

“Let us go.” He had not told you yet but he was not overly fond of saunas. He was familiar with the concept, of course—steam baths and alike—but had usually avoided them back on Asgard. It wasn’t until he had found out he was a Frost Giant that he realised why he despised the heat so much and yet… he was willing to sweat with discomfort just so he could see your half-naked, no, all naked body all wet and warm and… Loki cleared his throat and let go of you like a piece of blistering firewood. Mutely, he followed you to the sauna world and used his bracelet to get inside.

He already longed to snap the necks of the men turning around to glare at you hungrily when you both entered, his left hand jerking slightly as he almost brought it to the small of your back to show them you were taken. They glanced away again quickly, realising Loki was not to be meddled with.

As soon as the two of you had disappeared into one of the cabins—an empty one, much to his relief—he flicked his wrist. A green, barely visible shimmer of light surrounded the opaque door. No one else would get to explore your naked body with their eyes now—only him.

Only then did he start to feel the gravity of the heat around him. It enveloped him, slowed him down… he took a deep, disgusted breath.

-

You shouldn’t be shy. Fuck it. Drop your towel. So you did, avoiding Loki’s heated gaze on you as you did and sat down. While part of you meant to lean back and present your breasts to him temptingly, another wanted you to cover yourself up again this instant. You looked up and…

Loki’s lips were parted. He didn’t even think about removing the towel around his hips. Instead, his greedy gaze wandered up and down your body, slowly and intimately. You gulped. It took him a moment to pick himself up.

Then, finally, he slowly removed his own towel, revealing the sight of his member. You swallowed thickly. He was big. Bigger than the average man, even in his soft state. Loki sat down next to you, another mischievous smirk playing on his lips. He knew. He bloody knew. He must have… right?

With any other Avengers, this situation would have been super awkward and strange but with Loki… it was peaceful. Neither of you felt ashamed to be naked around the other, no sounds disrupting the silence. The heat felt amazing, sweating all negative energy from your system even better. There was only the steam hissing in the background, the rapid beating of your own heart and Loki, panting frantically. Panting?

“Loki? Are you okay?”

“I feel fine.” He lied. You flinched when you looked over to him. Loki was blue, his eyes glowing red in the dimly lit sauna and his bare chest decorated with dozens of ridges you longed to trace with your fingertips.

“You’re blue!”

Taken aback, the God of Mischief gazed down at himself, jumping up as if stung by an adder as soon as he realised.

“A-are you okay?”

“Fine,” he choked out. You barely had a chance to reply before he stormed out of the sauna.

“Loki! Loki, wait!” Grabbing your towel before you could dart after him, you clumsily wrapped it around your body to cover yourself up. Loki had disappeared into the shower room.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye when he saw you approaching him slowly—ignoring the other naked man taking a shower as cool as you please. The pattering of the water onto the wet files echoing through the room pierced your ears the closer you came but you barely even registered it. Loki was leaning against the wall, palms pressed flatly against it. He looked normal again. Not blue.

“You were not supposed to see that.” He growled quietly. Hesitatingly, you put one of your hands on his shoulder blade. He had no idea how this could have even happened. His body reacted to the cold. To objects of Jötun origin, not to heat and hot air. It must have been a defence mechanism to cope with the sudden temperature change…

“It doesn’t matter, Loki. I knew about… well.”

“You knew I am a monster? A wolf in sheep’s clothing?” He snapped bitterly.

“I knew you were a Frost Giant. You’re not a monster. You haven’t eaten me yet, have you?” You joked, waiting for him to reply. When he said nothing, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Loki, I didn’t think the heat would do… this. Are you… are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to spend the rest of my birthday in the hospital.” Even though you were fairly certain a regular hospital could barely help the God of Mischief. You should have considered his race when suggesting the sauna. Why, for Heaven’s sake, hadn’t he refused to come with you? To… protect you, maybe? From other, greedy men? Your pussy clenched at the mere thought of it.

“What did you just say?”

“W-what? Nothing.” Shit.

“Your birthday. You said it was your birthday.”

Defeated, you gave him a court nod and shrugged innocently. “It… it is. That’s why I wanted to come here today, relax a little… and spend time with you. Let’s just… go back to our booth and forget this happened, alright?”

She is not afraid of you. She does not hate you. She is not disgusted. The thoughts tumbled through Loki’s head like a house of twigs collapsing in on itself. She wants to spend her birthday with you.

He nodded mutely, for once at loss for words, and followed you. He had sworn to himself to not make the same mistake as his brother, besides, a mortal was no match for him… right? How soon, however, would he once again find someone who liked his company simply for the sake of it? Someone who would spend their most important day with him of all people? Someone who did not despise his true nature? Perhaps… perhaps, he should reconsider.

Hungry for a snack to stifle the shock, you reached into your bag to retrieve a package of marshmallows once you were back in your private booth. It was your birthday, after all. You could have some additional calories today if you weren’t going to get any cake. Apart from that, you needed something to munch on, even after admiring Loki’s backside… and his very impressive manhood. You wondered, briefly, if his cock was covered in ridges too when he was in his Jötun form… and how they would feel inside of you. You should have looked down when you had the chance. Licking your lips with a hum in a weak attempt to distract yourself from your naughty thoughts, you ripped open the package and fished one of the marshmallows out.

In the meantime, Loki opened the champagne bottle and poured you both a glass.

“And what is that supposed to be?” He said as he handed you one of them.

“Marshmallows? You’ve never had marshmallows before?”

“No…” He responded slowly, rather suspicious towards the white sugar clumps.

“They’re sweet and soft and… here.” Unceremoniously, you dipped it into the hot chocolate. It shouldn’t go to waste, now should it? “Eat.”

Loki obeyed, still in doubt but he soon hummed in approval when he let it disappear in his mouth. “Delicious… Tell me, what was that hot chocolate intended for, initially?” He asked curiously when he had swallowed, nodding at it before taking a sip of his champagne.

“Um… well…”

Impatiently, he raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for, uh, couple massages. You know… you’re supposed to use the chocolate for… as…”

“Massage oil?” He finished your sentence with a nod. His blue eyes locked with yours, making your heart pound in your chest. By the Norns, he should have read the signs earlier. The way you looked at him—both shyly and provocatively at the same time… the way your breath caught in your lungs whenever he touched you, even if it was in the most innocent and decent way possible. You made him laugh, too. It had been a while since he had laughed, from all his heart.

“Hmm, I see. Well, perhaps you were wrong, my dear.” He mused and put his glass away, making his decision there and then. “Perhaps I will eat you after all.”

He smirked—maliciously at that when your eyes widened and he crawled up to you on the huge mattress, right until he towered above you. Unceremoniously, he reached for the hot chocolate and inhaled deeply. The scent was infatuating—Loki’s hungry glare, however, even more so.

“L-Loki… what are you doing?”

His lips parted, one of his hands reaching up to caress your cheek. You shivered, desire and affection rippling through you. What was happening here?

You couldn’t help it. Your eyes wandered down to his lips. What would it feel like to press your lips against his? What would it feel like… oh. He was kissing you. A moan escaped your throat when his mouth came crashing down on yours, kissing you gently at first and then, devouring your lips like his last meal. Your languishing glance, so it seemed, was all the invitation he had needed. Loki’s hands set your body on fire, exploring every inch of your skin, stroking your neck, your arms, your chest…

You squealed when he undid the messy knot you had tied into your towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. Once more, his blue eyes appeared to ravish you whole. Then, suddenly, you both witnessed and felt him pouring the warm chocolate over your chest and breasts, your already hardening nipples reacting to the sweet liquid immediately. Oh my… God…

You couldn’t have imagined it to be like this in your wildest dreams. Goose bumps lingered wherever his fingertips ghosted over your body, the droplets of chocolate tickling where they trailed down your sides, threatening to stain the mattress. Your breath was trembling from desire by the time Loki lowered his head to your body and finally released your now swollen lips, instead tending to the warm and sweet mess he had created on your upper body. His tongue darted out as he hummed in joyful anticipation, patiently licking you clean.

Your back arched, hips bucking up towards him and grazing his crotch. It was him who moaned this time, his free hand, for he propped himself up with the other, fondling one of your breasts. You wanted more. Oh, you wanted so much more. But not here. This booth was private but at the end of the day you were still in public. At home, back at the compound… if that was what he wanted too. Don’t be a fool… of course he wants it too, the horny voice inside your head complained.

“Hmm… this tastes much better than those marshmallows…” He purred. You whimpered when he sucked one of your hard nipples into his mouth and tenderly nibbled on it. The attention made you clench your legs. Betraying arousal was pooling in your centre, drenching your bikini bottoms. If he didn’t stop now…

“W-we’re going to miss our m-massages, Loki…” You attempted weakly.

Loki chuckled darkly. “Something tells me you wouldn’t very much mind that, my sweet.” My sweet… if you hadn’t been lying down, your knees would have given in now at the very latest. Loki had a lot of explaining to do, and so did you. You had pounced on one another like wolves in heat, like sex-starved beasts… but not now. For the time being, you would simply enjoy having broken the thin layer of ice remaining between you. “You are right, of course.” He added then. “I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name…” Another low chuckle rumbled through his voice chords, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. Reluctantly, he released you and let you catch your breath. Naked, you sat up, eyeing him with a shy smile which Loki reciprocated. This spa day escalated quickly, you thought, giggling to yourself. Not that you were to complain.

He winked. “Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[gutterdreams]

Can I request number 24 with Billy please and thank you! Btw, I love your writing in case you haven’t noticed yet 💕💕💕

124. “I only have good memories of you” for this babe

It was hard to stay in touch over two thousand miles away. Billy had no idea what any of his friends lives were like now. It had been six months since he drove away with his dad's new family. Foolishly, he assumed that everything would stand still like in a photograph and just wait until he returned to resume. Looking around at the other faces in the church, all solemn in a way he had never seen them before, he realized how far out of the loop he was.Billy anticipated his friends limbs clawing at him, old hook ups to press their bodies tightly to his, but since this was a funeral, people just waved and lifted a single corner of their mouths to welcome him back. This was not the time for keg stands and skinny dipping. Billy and his group always liked to raid their parents liquor cabinets. They got high in each other's basements and cars. It seemed harmless. The occasional bump off someone's knuckle or the back of a debit card felt as dangerous as dipping your toes into the ocean. Billy figured they were all messing around the same way. He hadn't been around to see Justin Moody become a walking coke addiction. When Billy left town, his friend was still hellbent on being drafted to the MLB one day. Everyone assumed that with his arm, he would. Next to him, a pink haired girl sobbed as if she was being paid to. Billy just clasped his hands between his knees and kept his arms to himself narrowly. Other people's emotions always made him uncomfortable, probably because he had such a hard time expressing himself. He didn't know her, but she was cuddling up to Christina Adams on her other side, so Billy figured that he would if he had stayed back in Oceanside. Christina's house was where most parties or after parties took place since she had a sauna, pool table, and incredible tequila selection thanks to her Dad who owned a chain of Mexican restaurants. Wayne slid Billy further into the pew right before the service started, the two boys squeezing each others shoulders and then exchanging sorry expressions. "Your old man here?" Wayne checked, glancing over Billy's head, but only seeing the girls there. "No. I came alone." If it hadn't been Susan telling Neil how important it was for Billy to go, Billy would have been in a world of trouble being back in California now.There wasn't a single one of Billy's friends who wasn't scared shitless of Neil Hargrove. Billy's house was always off limits when they were looking for a place to hang out even if it wasn't to party, but just to lay low and watch TV. If Neil was there, they all tried to keep their distance from the mustache man with a gridlock grip and tamale hot temper. Wayne nodded to confirm that he heard and then pulled a folded Klennex our of the inside of his blazer that he borrowed from his older brother. He reached behind Billy's head to offer it to his crying friend, but Christina took it instead and mouthed 'thank you'. The funeral had begun, but Billy couldn't concentrate. He couldn't begin to fathom that Justin was dead when he could barely accept that Wayne wasn't hitting golf balls off a roof and that Christina wasn't lathered in baby oil and drinking tequila from a Big Gulp thermos. He spent every day in Indiana waiting to return to Oceanside, but it didn't feel like home now. It felt like somewhere he didn't know or belong, like Hawkins. Billy made it to the end of the service, but he didn't know how. The picture of Justin grinning from ear to ear in his Oakland A's hat at the head of the church had his eyes stinging, but Billy was proud of himself for not crying. Wayne let a few tears stream down, but nothing like Joshua West. He was up at the front near the family, choking on his own emotions. It was to be expected, Billy supposed, from the person who found Justin dead and covered in his own vomit of bile, blood, and Lucky Charms. As soon as everyone started to leave, Billy pushed his way through the crowd. He needed fresh air and he needed a smoke. Quickly, he was on the first cement step of the church where he was met by a few other smokers, offering one of them his lighter for a second. He was letting the inhales relax him, his stressed heart beginning to find a regular beat while he kept to himself on the crowded stair.Right in front on the church was the unmistakable glistening red Mustang. Billy couldn't begin to guess how many times he had sat in the front seat, throwing his head around to Black Flag while Justin drove through the night. Billy only drove it once when Justin really wanted to win a drag race against these two douchebags from St Vincent High School. Billy saw his first pair of real life tits in that car, Lisa Womack's, even though Christina bitterly told anyone who would listen that Lisa's were not actually real. They had hot-boxed in that car, they had filled the floor with empty cans, and Hell, Billy slept in it a handful of nights when his dad had booted him out.He was drawn to the car, pulled in by a force of nature. It wasn't until he was a couple steps away from the beautiful Mustang that Billy saw that the windows were down and you, Justin's little sister, were sitting behind the wheel. You had grown up from the girl forever stuck a year behind them, drowning out their circus with her bedroom door shut and headphones on. The mirror was down and you were dabbing concealer under your hurt eyes with your fourth finger when Billy leaned in. He tossed his cigarette onto the road before folding his arms over the open window and started looking over the interior of the special car."You're pretty lucky to get this car." He assumed correctly. There was no way you were letting anyone else drive it or your parents sell it to the highest offer. "She's a babe." He admired.It wasn't until the latter comment was made that you looked Billy on completely. He couldn't avoid the obvious sadness, dry, in your eyes that were running a sleep defecit. You were supposed to be in the reception room with your family accepting sympathies, but you needed a second to yourself."I know you probably think I'm an asshole." Billy certainly did. He had abandoned his friend when he obviously needed someone around. He was all the way in Indiana while Justin was veering down a complicated path. It wasn't just that fact though. Billy had never been nothing, but a party animal when around. He wasn't at your dinner table politely thanking your mom for a delicious casserole. He was passed out on a floating lounge chair in your pool or high watching MTV in your basement. "Justin was my friend though.""I know." Nodding, you told him very plainly. "My mom was surprised you made it in, but I wasn't." His brows rose as you had peaked his interest with your kind, but misguided faith in him. "You and Justin were friends since like grade two." You couldn't be certain, but you knew Billy's curly head of hair had been bouncing around your house for a long time. The memory provoked a bright smile on his face, the first non bittersweet one of the day. "I only have good memories of you." Pushing up the mirror, you told him with a sniffle and then tightened the lid on the concealer dish on your lap. "You always made sure your friends were okay when you guys partied," which was constantly. "You kept Christina from leaving with assholes all the time, you ate my vegetables when my parents weren't looking, and you always fixed everything you broke in our house." The list trickled off your tongue effortlessly, but Billy had never realized any of the memories. He was too wrapped up in surviving at light speed to realize that he wasn't a total piece of shit."Still, I should have been there." Bowing his head to you, Billy mumbled with evident guilt."Well, I was here and it happened really fast." Threatening to cry again , you mumbled mostly to yourself. The road stretched out in front of you was a long one and with so much grief in the passenger seat, you weren't sure how enjoyable the journey would be. "Justin knew you didn't have a choice, but to leave, Billy. He wasn't mad." You tried to be assuring. It silenced Billy for a few seconds, his mind void of the right words to say. Nothing felt good enough. He didn't know what you were supposed to say in a moment like this. He was only five when his mom died. He just remembered people constantly telling him that this was the way God intended it and that she was always watching him. Billy hated those sentiments, but now he loathed how they were sitting in his mouth."Do you want to go for a drive?" Bringing his blue eyes back to you and your hands on the steering wheel, you asked. "Don't you have to go in there?" "You think Justin would be shaking hands and eating finger food if one of us died?" Billy grinned ferociously at the answer. He knew his buddy would be cruising with the windows down, listening to sports highlights or Black Flag, and recalling all his favorite things about the person they were supposed to be honoring.With curled fingers, Billy opened up the car door and slid in. This was the only car he would be okay riding shot gun in. It felt right actually. He liked that he was adding to your positive memories of him, driving around Oceanside in the prettiest car on the road; thinking good thoughts.

[3one3]

The Sequel - 884

The End Is Near

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Run faster!” Christina and Tom shouted in unison.

“I’m trying!” Stefanie shouted back, struggling to drag a large Hanoverian behind her.

“What does that look like to you? I can’t even tell.”

“In the shoulder maybe.”

“You think? I was going to say something high up behind, like maybe even in the spine.”

“Whichever end of the horse is the problem, it looks very bad, and there isn’t any heat or swelling anywhere at all.”

“Put him away and call Dr. Todd, I guess. Don’t give him anything in case he can come today still.”

Nick was lame again. There was no obvious reason, for a change. The fetlock with the bone chip wasn’t the problem. The other fetlock that occasionally swelled after work was tight. His knees looked fine, and he didn’t react to the hoof testers. His gait was badly wrong, but in a confusing and ambiguous way. The two most experienced people on the property couldn’t decide if they thought it was a problem with the front half of him or the rear. He pinned his ears and resisted as much as possible as Stefanie tried to jog him down the concrete patio at the back of the barn, past his stablemates’ open Dutch doors. Trotting on a hard surface helps exacerbate the pain from an injury, because it’s harsher on just about everything that could be injured than the nice soft footing in the ring, or even grass. It’s supposed to make it easier to see the source of the pain. Christina and Tom were flummoxed. And Christina’s worry about the situation wasn’t just because Nick was getting old and his ouchies were happening more often, or that he looked ready to kick someone in the face. He was supposed to be in a photoshoot with her in an hour.

The president of the Global Champions Tour personally asked her to be the cover star of the new luxury style magazine that would accompany the show series around the globe and feature articles and interviews and tons of advertising by the Tour’s sponsors, brand partners, and boutique sellers. There was going to be a big launch party at the Final, and then it would come out quarterly the following year. The defending champion wanted to use Nick since she was going to be posing by his head and modeling a diamond necklace. He had the handsomest head in her stable, and was very patient about photoshooting.

“He can still pose for a camera,” Tom countered, as if to read her mind. “It doesn’t hurt to stand still.” His point was well made. They only spotted the problem in the first place because he put him on the lunge line to give him a chance to get out any hijinks before the crew showed up. It wasn’t as if the stallion had been lying down in his stall, moaning in agony. He walked fine.

“Can I stop now?” Stefanie called from the end of the covered walk.

“Yeah,” the other two called back simultaneously. Rider was still getting used to groom being as “in charge” as he was. Isandro was more subordinate in that role, most of the time.

“Okay. Spiff him up, I guess,” she shrugged reluctantly. “But call the vet first.”

“Duuuuuh.” He mocked the way she always retorted to people who stated or asked the obvious. And she appreciated his candor and nonchalance, because it told her he wasn’t overly concerned about Nick.

“Let’s go sneak another coffee before the stylists get here and put whitening strips on my teeth,” Christina told her two very obedient Toy Fox Terriers, who were waiting by her feet. They followed her into the barn and up the central aisle toward the indoor, and she texted André to tell him about the horse. He was at training, as he should have been. His being back on the normal schedule, doing full training with his teammates and spending the bulk of each day at Brackel, required an adjustment for her that she really didn’t want to make. His girl had gotten used to him having more flexibility during his injury and rehab. He had a lot of time off, and his individual sessions took less time, and could move around. He had plenty of time to spend with her.

I want a hug, she grumbled inside while trudging up the stairs to her lounge for that coffee. The dogs raced ahead and flew through the flap in the door at the top. Her facility had a lot of cold weather considerations. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to put so many doors between the barn aisle, the bathroom, the bleachers, and the pass-through into the indoor. The architects knew better. It would stay nice and toasty warm in the lounge in the dead of winter, and also in the bathroom, while the J-shaped hallway and the stairs would be flooded with cold air every time someone opened the door to sit on the bleachers. Spencer and Lucky had beds upstairs by the couch so that they could be somewhere cozy whenever they wanted. There was a doggy-door into the tack room as well, but the door it was installed in would be opened and closed constantly throughout the day and it wouldn’t stay that warm since Christina was wary of pumping extreme amounts of artificial heat in there, on the basis that it was drying for the leather goods. She liked her tack room to be comfortable for humans in one less layer than they wore outside, and without hats or gloves. Her dogs liked sauna temperatures everywhere, all the time. They also liked the fun of hopping through three doggy doors to get to the lounge when unaccompanied by a human. They both sat like good boys by the espresso machine while she made her drink, knowing that they might get a biscuit from the metal tin next to the sink.

“I hope this shoot doesn’t take forever,” their mom told them. “I need to ride Sexy Socks and Dirk and Rio and the Iceman still, and Schü and I are going out for dinner tonight. Do you think it’s foolish of me to take Socks to Doha? He thinks it’s a bad idea, since Socks was such an assface in Barcelona. I kind of have to now anyway. I’m already bringing Rio, I clearly can’t take Nick now, Kimi isn’t ready for that, and Calvin doesn’t do long distance flights that well. Dirk isn’t ready. I could do Cartagena, maybe, but why do that when I have Socks? He did so many rounds of this championship anyway. What do you- Oh. You’re waiting for treats.” Christina cocked her head at the black and white and black and white and brown little creatures looking up at her inquisitively. At first she thought they were listening intently to her dilemma. They always made that face when someone asked them a question. But their focus and stare were too intense for that. They were silently begging her for crunchy peanut butter bones. She poured the two little espresso cups into her big, colorful Anthropologie mug and then selected two treats from the tin. The pups hopped up, excited, but hurried back to their haunches to receive them. Spencer immediately started eating his, and Lucky trotted off toward the couch with his. They were both finished devouring their biscuits by the time their human added her steamed milk and was ready to go back into the barn.

“When are you gonna get a job?” she asked Stefanie, who was sitting on the bench across from the grooming stall where Nick was getting polished and combed. There was no real reason for her to be there yet. Her horses were on the board for the afternoon.

“Hopefully never,” the younger rider shrugged. She was eating instant oatmeal in the plastic container it came in. The plumbing offered water hot enough for oatmeal making. That was one of Christina’s favorite things about the property. They could get properly hot water from any spigot, hose, or tap. The hotter the soaking water, the softer the beet pulp the horses ate in bulk with their grain.

“Dr. Todd will come this evening,” Tom mentioned from the crossties.

“Like when this evening?”

“6, 7.”

“Ugh. Okay.”

“Plans?” Stefanie asked knowingly.

“Reservations.”

“You don’t need to be here,” the groom and stable manager reminded.

“Yeah I do. It’s fine. It just means I can’t give Luke his dinner.” Actually, Christina realized, if he comes at 6, it gets in the way of my getting ready time. If he comes at 7, it gets in the way of Munchkin dinner. We have to leave at 8. Ugh, whatever. She plopped heavily on the bench and gulped her cortado. “I wish the photoshoot was later. Then my hair and makeup would be all done and everything. As it is, they’e gonna make me all pretty and stuff in a little while, then I have to wipe it all off, ride and get sweaty, and then shower and start over. Bleh.”

“Where are you having dinner?” the blonde girl inquired.

“Some American-style steakhouse I haven’t been to yet. It’s faaaancy, or so I’m told.”

“Are you wearing something sexy?”

“Of course.”

“Such as?”

“This is when I question my decision to work here,” Tom commented, speaking exclusively to Nick. “Kyle likes to talk sexy dinner outfits as much as these women. I’m surrounded by this nonsense here. In my old position, we spoke about how long our morning shits take, and seasonal beers. In this stable, there is a silver box of tampons under the granite counter in the bathroom. I don’t know how Isandro deals with these women for so long, Nick. How do you do it?”

“Okay, macho man,” Christina snorted with an eye roll. “Nicky loves us. Isa loves us. And I’m wearing this high-neck black cocktail dress with gold studded cap sleeves. I’ve had it forever- like since before I got married- and it’s one of my favorite things but I never wear it because- Well, I dunno.” Because Jill helped me pick it out. “Anyway, I have something sexier for after dinner.”

“Oooooh.” Stefanie’s eyebrows wiggled and Tom’s eyes rolled. Nick didn’t seem to have any strong feelings either way.

“Where is Isa?”

“Setting up the jump course you wrote down for the grass field.”

“Aww, I would have helped. I was going to do it tomorrow.”

“It’s not that much work. Kyle is with him.”

“Does this mean we’re doing lessons on the big course?” Stefanie’s voice and face were brimming with hope and expectation. The girls had been talking about building a grand prix style course on the grass for about a week. They wanted one with a lot of options for different tracks, in whole or in pieces. Both of them took the same special joy from the sensation of riding and jumping on grass. The sound of hooves on the ground does something to a rider. It’s almost like a primal thing, and one doesn’t get it from riding in sand or synthetic footing. A horse has to be more aware of the going, because it’s more slippery. They need their instincts to help. It makes it all more exciting. The girls hacked on the grass fairly often, and sometimes had a handful of fences out there. They wanted the competition-type jumps from the shed- the Red Bull can standards, the Chelsea planks, the faux castle, and the tall gates- all the bells and whistles. Christina sat down at her desk and drew a very exact diagram of what type of jump she wanted and where, down to the color of the poles. It took about an hour to map it out and plan challenges and questions. Contrary to Tom’s dismissive shrug, lugging those fences out of the storage shed or moving them from the dirt ring to the grass and then setting everything up was a lot of work, and it would only be worth it if they got a lot of use out of them and in different ways, so that they wouldn’t overuse the grass on one track, or kill the takeoff and landing zones at every fence. They could spread it out and keep it interesting. And they were all feeling in need of “interesting”. Stefanie was doing a lot of top-level classes, and Kyle was moving up as scheduled with both Calvin and Cartagena. Christina had been fighting boredom for a long time. They all needed to spice up their training, and that was true for some of the horses too.

“Yeah,” coach told student. “I hope we have lots of Magic Cushion.”

“Always,” Tom affirmed from behind the big dark bay horse. He was combing his tail, and talking about the hoof-packing product that helped prevent soreness from working on the hard ground.

“Are you currying Nicky’s butt or is he begging for coffee? He’s got that “aww yeah baby” face, and his lips are out of control,” Christina laughed.

“I’m scratching his dock while I brush out the tail. This tail is a triumph. It better be in the photographs.”

“My horses all have nicer, healthier tails than I have hair,” she pouted, end of her ponytail in hand. Nick, Dirk, and Calvin in particular had really thick, long, lusciously shiny black tails. Rio’s was a bit thin by comparison, Socks’ was recovering from an evidently long history of breakage, and Kimi’s was naturally almost bushy, like his mane and forelock, so it appeared less soft. Navarra constantly tried to rub the top of hers on fences and walls, and that took a toll. She was still catching up on the beauty standards in the barn. At Holger’s she was allowed to be dirty and unkempt. Isandro really liked her personality and made cleaning her up his pet project. Getting the kind of shine customary in Christina’s stable was not the work of just a few groomings.

“That’s because they don’t get shampooed every day,” Stefanie remarked.

“Neither does mine! I try to only wash it every other day. When I can. Usually.”

“Did you wash it this morning?”

“Yes, but I had to! Photoshoot!”

“And you’re going to wash it again tonight before your pre-sex steak, right?”

“Shut up.”

“I have Michael so well trained,” she bragged, almost facetiously. “He uses his fingers to comb the dry shampoo through my hair each night while we watch television. He doesn’t have to hang out with a girl with smelly, oily hair, and I get a massage and a really good brushing. I shampoo once per 5 days.”

“Eww.”

“My hair isn’t as oily as yours! And I still shower!”

“I shampoo and condition every day,” Tom shrugged on his way back to the front of the horse to give his mane and forelock one last onceover. “My hair is pretty okay, I think.”

“Boy hair is different,” Christina tutted. Then she turned back to the rider beside her. “Are you getting finger-combed at your place or are you hanging at Michael’s all the time?”

“Both. Kyle goes out a lot lately with some people who live one floor down. He’s trying to figure out how to date with limited German.”

“Girls or boys?”

“I think he’s beginning with girls.”

“He should go out drinking with Isa. Isa will get him a girl,” she sniggered. “Where is this photographer? She’s supposed to be here by now.”

“I thought photographers always want the first or last light?” Stefanie posited before scooping out the last spoonful of oatmeal. The cinnamon smell was making her trainer hungry.

“We’re shooting inside.” Said trainer slid back all the way against the bench and lifted the front of her layered waffle shirts up to scratch at her tummy. Knowing the cover shoot would involve a stylist bringing her outfits, she couldn’t be bothered changing out of the clothes she donned after her workout to play with Lukas. Her comfy sweatpants hung very low on her hips to begin with, so her shirts didn’t have far to go to make her stomach feel very cold. There was a mostly-healed scratch right under her belly button- an accident, from her son- that itched like crazy as the tiny scabs prepared to fall off on their own. “Should I call her and see if they’re lost or something?”

“Wouldn’t they call if they were lost?” Tom pointed out.

“Maybe they don’t know they’re lost.”

“Well how would you know if you called them?”

“I dunno.”

“It’s amazing that you two travel the world together, honestly.” Stefanie shook her head ruefully and got up to put the plastic container in the trashcan in the other grooming stall. She stopped to rub Nick’s forehead on the way back, and he nudged at her stomach just to let her know that he was interested in anything she might have for him, like whatever that sweet smell on her breath was. “Can’t feed the models,” she told him. “I guess you’re not mad at me for making you jog on your...whatever hurts.”

“He clearly isn’t in any discomfort right now at least,” Christina chuckled while she watched her stallion thoroughly investigate the other girl for food. Her horses all acted like nobody fed them, and she liked that, because it meant they had personalities. A lot of their kind don’t. Her band of characters brought so much life and entertainment to the day in, day out tedium of the stable routine. Keeping their training interesting and varied was one thing. The chores and care at the barn were the opposite. Everyone who worked there agreed that consistency was key for keeping the horses healthy and ensuring the place functioned safely, professionally, and efficiently. It made for a lot of monotony for the guys. An affectionate, curious, or even mischievous equine could give them moments of entertainment or enjoyment to break it up. The canine workers did too. One of them sprang into Christina’s lap to see if he was missing anything. “Hi Spence.” She stroked his mostly black little head, and he licked her fingers.

“You look like you’re at home on the sofa,” Tom commented. He wore a small, lopsided grin and was using Nick’s neck to support his left arm. “This is a horse stable.”

“I don’t wear sneakers in the house. Are you going to put him away and let him get dirty again or make him wait on the crossties?”

“Call the photographer and find out how far they are.”

Christina switched hands with her giant mug to reach into the deep pocket of her sweats for her phone. André hadn’t replied yet, which was expected. He was training. She hoped for a message from Juan though, even thought he was also training, presumably. He wrote to her in the middle of the night to ask when she was returning home. “Home” was a charged word. He could have meant London, or he could have meant himself, because she told him he was home for her, many times. Her text back to him asked if he was okay or if he was just being sweet, or if he couldn’t sleep and just wanted to see if she was magically up at that hour. She knew the Spaniard would have seen the message by then. He would have had plenty of time to read it before even getting to Cobham given how early she woke up.

“They’re about 10 minutes out,” she reported to everyone after speaking with the photographer. “You might as well put him back in his stall. It’s going to take them some time to get me dressed and blown out and made up and stuff. He doesn’t need to be spotless if they want to use him to do test shots or something. You’ll have a chance to wipe him off again before I’m ready. You could even tie him in the stall if you want.”

“Yeah, I think I will do, as long as Stef is going to be around?”

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Or ear.” Stefanie nodded and got back up from the bench to stretch and yawn. Her vigilance was necessary because Christina didn’t really like tying the horses in their stalls. There was always the risk that they could freak out about being tethered in a place they usually had freedom, they could somehow get a leg caught over the lead even though it was deliberately tied quite short, or they could manage to get it caught on a bucket or something and dump it out and make a mess. The only reason to do it was to keep them from rolling in their bedding and getting dirty, or if they needed to wait while tacked up and not get into trouble with all the equipment on. Her rule was that horses couldn’t be tied anywhere or left on the crossties unattended, and Tom was going to go do other work until he was needed to assist on the shoot. Nick’s rider gave him a nose smooch and promised him the vet would come later to make whatever was hurting him go away, and his groom took him back to his stall.

“I hope I got paid for this up front,” she yawned before moving to get a broom to sweep up the hair and dirt left behind on the rubber mat where the horse had been and then realizing she couldn’t sweep without putting her coffee down, and that it wasn’t worth it. Tom would undoubtedly be right back to do the tidying up before moving on to other chores. “I would so much rather be shopping for pumpkins with Lukas right now, or helping him with his bike. He’s really good with the training wheels. Did I tell you?”

“Yes. Like 9 times. Can I go pumpkin shopping whenever you do get to do it? I want to make one for Michael, for his desk.”

“Yeuck you’re so in love. It’s gross.”