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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Discordant Rhapsody - ao3 - Chapter 2

“I think he’s coming around,” a familiar voice was saying when Lan Qiren slowly returned to consciousness. “Are you really sure it’s necessary –”

“Are you doubting my competence, Sect Leader?”

“…of course not, Auntie Xinwei. Forgive me, Auntie Xinwei.”

Lan Qiren’s eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but he hastily gathered up the willpower to push them open immediately regardless – he recognized those voices, and no one in their right mind wanted to be the patient of Nie Xinwei, that vicious old curmudgeon. She was the close cousin and adopted sister of the Nie sect leader two times back, Nie Mingjue’s grandfather; her rank and (for the Nie main line) extraordinary old age having since made her all but untouchable within her sect, in the few times she was there rather than traveling around as she usually was, and her skill with a saber served the same purpose outside of it.

She was not noted for her talent for the medical arts, despite her enthusiasm for them.

Lan Qiren managed to open his eyes and promptly wheezed in alarm when he saw the especially long needle she was waving around enthusiastically, completely ignoring her grand-nephew’s earnest and thoroughly unsuccessful attempts to sneakily situate himself in between her and her would-be victim.

“See, he’s awake!” Nie Mingjue proclaimed, sounding deeply relieved. “Auntie Xinwei, there’s no need for anything more, I don’t think.”

Nie Xinwei scowled. “Is he? I still think –”

Lan Qiren managed to lift a hand and wave. It took all the strength he had and more, but it was worth it. That was a very long needle.

“Oh, damn, of course he is,” she growled. “Waking up now all on his own - ruining my fun, just like you always do..! Feh, fine, have it your way.”

She marched off with her nose in the air.

Nie Mingjue and Lan Qiren exhaled with relief at the same time.

“Sect Leader – ah, no, Teacher Lan,” Nie Mingjue said, turning back to him. He looked concerned. “Are you all right? You’d been unconscious for over a day, nearly two. What happened?”

It was a good question. Lan Qiren searched his memory – hide them away, bile, panic, flight –

Ah.

He’d actually fallen off his sword, then.

How horribly embarrassing. He’d allowed his frenzied desire to escape Jinlin Tower and awkward conversations with his nephews to overcome his good sense, despite all the rules that counseled being thoughtful and considerate. He’d known, hadn’t he, that he shouldn’t fly with his qi as disordered as it was, but he’d done it anyway. It was amazing that he hadn’t broken his neck in the process.

“How did you encounter me?” Lan Qiren asked instead of explaining. He couldn’t lose the sect face by admitting the truth, and Nie Mingjue was polite enough that he wouldn’t make a fuss if Lan Qiren obliquely declined to tell him. “Weren’t you at Jinlin Tower?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head in denial. “We were on our way there, but hadn’t yet arrived when we came across you,” he said, accepting the change in subject as gracefully as Lan Qiren had expected, and just as gracefully omitting to mention in what shape they’d found him. Lan Qiren hoped it hadn’t been anything too unsightly. “We were – ah – a little delayed –”

In other words, Nie Mingjue had had no desire to attend another showy Jin sect banquet and had been dragging his heels the whole way there. It wasn’t the most mature way to deal with it, but Lan Qiren could hardly hold it against Nie Mingjue, especially since his tardiness had ultimately turned out to be to Lan Qiren’s personal benefit. Given the timing, if Nie Mingjue hadn’t been so slow, he wouldn’t have been in the right place to find Lan Qiren after he’d fallen, and then where would Lan Qiren be?

Nie Mingjue explained what had happened: a scout of the Nie sect had spotted a flash of white and found Lan Qiren lying prone on the ground, his sword beside him – at least he hadn’t been stuck in a tree – and they had of course stopped at once to tend to him. Lan Qiren had been lucky in his fall, gaining any number of bruises and minor cuts but managing not to break either his neck or any bones; he was after all still a cultivator, and whatever the state of his meridians, he was still sturdier than a comparable mortal. The main thing that had been wrong with him had been his disordered qi, but in that, too, he had been lucky, with Nie Mingjue, who as a scion of the main Nie clan had considerable expertise in matters of unruly qi, providing aid in the first instance himself – he’d been greatly alarmed by Lan Qiren’s state, as might be expected, but after the initial aid there was really nothing to be done that would help more than simply allowing Lan Qiren to rest and heal.

Accordingly, once Lan Qiren had been stabilized, Nie Mingjue had left his sect in the mountains to guard Lan Qiren and gone on to Jinlin Tower by himself, knowing that his absence would be seen as a slight by Lanling Jin and would undoubtedly used against him no matter how good the reason behind it might be. He had attended a single dinner, and then hastily used an excuse to leave without talking any further to anyone, not even his newly minted sworn brothers.

Upon hearing that, Lan Qiren closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh.

To act in such a way, Nie Mingjue must have worried that giving away Lan Qiren’s presence and what had happened to him would foil something the Lan sect had planned – not an unreasonable conclusion, given that as far as anyone knew, Lan Qiren was supposed to be back at the Cloud Recesses. Poor Nie Mingjue! He was so ill-suited to politics. He was too straightforward to engage in schemes himself, and made for a poor co-conspirator, no matter how hard he tried to be obliging – even this one time where he genuinely tried to help, there wasn’t even a plot to actually protect!

“Were you flying out because of the incident?” Nie Mingjue asked.

Lan Qiren tore himself out of his musings. “Incident?” he asked, frowning. “What incident?”

The explanation that followed was rather extraordinary.

Apparently, at some point after (during?) the time Lan Qiren had left Jinlin Tower, there had been a rather heated confrontation: Wei Wuxian had seemingly allowed his demonic cultivation to go to his head, or so the rumors said – he’d marched right up and challenged Jin Zixun and Jin Guangshan in their own dining hall, demanding to know about the fate of some remaining Wen sect cultivators that the Jin sect had done something or another with; Lan Qiren thought he’d heard something about them being resettled under permanent guard or something, a display of mercy and righteousness on the part of the Jin, but perhaps not. Wei Wuxian had apparently followed up that stunt by going to the Qiongqi Path and murdering the guards the Jin sect had left to watch over the Wen sect, then spiriting the remaining sect members away to who-knew-where.

“My understanding is that they’ve gone to ground in the Yiling Burial Mounds,” Nie Mingjue concluded, and Lan Qiren shook his head, appalled at the very idea. It made sense, he supposed – a demonic cultivator would naturally be drawn to a place with powerful resentful energy – but normal cultivators, normal people…it couldn’t be very healthy. “Had you really not heard before you left? I’d thought that was why you were flying back in such a hurry, Teacher Lan, what with Wangji and all.”

Lan Qiren paused.

Nie Mingjue had been the overall general of the Sunshot Campaign. Along with being the master of Heijan, a general on the frontline, he had coordinated with all the other sect leaders to ensure that they were all acting as one, maximizing their effectiveness against the Wen sect – Lan Xichen, serving as a courier, had worked with him often.

Lan Wangi had as well.

At this point, one could argue that Nie Mingjue, who had also known both boys in their youth as well, was more familiar with Lan Wangji’s current siutation than Lan Qiren.

“What about Wangji?” he asked cautiously, suddenly alert. “What does he have to do with Wei Wuxian’s behavior?”

Nie Mingjue frowned, seeming puzzled. “Are they not on good terms? I’d heard rumors that they were at odds, and in truth they were always arguing, though I never thought it seemed especially malicious on Wangji’s side…strange. I thought I’d been proven right when Wangji spoke on Wei Wuxian’s behalf during the discussion after the incident.”

A chill ran down Lan Qiren’s spine. “He did?”

“Yes, several times. It was rather unexpected – you know best how Wangji is, always preferring silence. It’s not like him to engage in a battle of words, much less unprompted and on behalf of a man he’s said to despise.”

Said to despise…

Oh, Lan Qiren had been a fool through and through. The opposite of love was indifference, not dislike. Hatred was a seething emotion, full of passion – for their Lan sect, it wouldn’t be hard for that overwhelming ardor to be read the wrong way by those who were not familiar with their mannerisms.

And hadn’t Lan Wangji’s father, Lan Qiren’s brother, fallen for a murderer as well?

No. Lan Qiren refused to allow this to happen again. He refused.

Not again.

“– naturally we must act as righteousness demands,” Nie Mingjue was saying, having continued talking while Lan Qiren was lost in his thoughts. “Jiang Wanyin has said he will handle the matter, though I imagine it’ll take him a little while to get back to his sect and gather up his disciples, diminished as the Jiang sect still is…he’ll either have to force an apology from Wei Wuxian and make concessions, or else eject him from the sect, I think. Ah, it’s a pity – Sect Leader Jin put his back to the corner, implying all sorts of things, and some of them clearly untrue. A foul business.”

He shook his head.

“Really, it makes you wonder if there was something to those few that say that Wei Wuxian thought he was acting in pursuit of justice. Of course, I’d be more inclined to trust his judgment if he hadn’t gone haring off to slaughter cultivators on behalf of a bunch of murderous Wen-dogs, of all people –”

“I need to go,” Lan Qiren said abruptly.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him, then frowned when he realized Lan Qiren meant it. “You mean to travel now? As you are? But Teacher Lan, your health..!”

“It’s simply poor, chronically so, and I’ve already had nearly two days of rest to recover,” Lan Qiren said firmly. “Not to mention your sect’s kind assistance in stabilizing my qi after a near deviation, a subject in which your sect has no little amount of expertise. And of course for…ah…”

“Keeping Auntie Xinwei away from you?” Nie Mingjue suggested, looking wry – he knew what his battleax of a great-aunt was like. “If you’re sure, Teacher Lan. Can we at least provide you with an escort?”

“Your kind offer is appreciated, but I think it would be better if you did not.”

Nie Mingjue might be poor at scheming, but he had been attending discussion conferences alongside Lan Qiren for years and years; he knew what he should know, and he knew what he shouldn’t, either. His eyebrows shot straight up, but after a moment he nodded, signaling that he understood Lan Qiren’s meaning: that it would be better for his sect if the cultivation world were not aware that he had any inkling of what Lan Qiren meant to do, and that such a thing was easier to swear to if it were true.

Do not tell lies didn’t mean be an idiot, after all.

Nie Mingjue gave Lan Qiren face and did not ask another time if he was sure he wanted to go. Instead, he turned to practicalities and provided Lan Qiren with some elixirs to help keep his qi steady and some food to strengthen him as he went. He also, in the moment before Lan Qiren left the tent, looked into the air above his head and, seemingly aimlessly, said in a low voice, “If you need support, I will stand behind you.”

Lan Qiren felt a bit of warmth seep in through the cold shock that still enveloped him.

“Don’t make such promises before you know what you’re committing to,” he scolded, his voice equally quiet. “You could be pulled into all sorts of things, things you don’t want.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged carelessly. “I’m willing to gamble if the other player is you, Teacher Lan. Good luck.”

Lan Qiren set out once more.

This time he paid more attention to his flying, now that he was no longer in a blind panic, but the majority of his attention remained firmly turned inwards. The circumstances being what they were – it would have been better if he’d managed to intervene earlier, of course, but he hadn’t known enough at the time. He would need to tackle things as they were, not as he might wish they’d be.

Wei Wuxian…

Lan Qiren remembered him as an impulsive and arrogant boy, too prone to quick action and to thinking he was the only one who knew what was going on and what ought to be done, full of wild ideas about new things, up to and including unorthodox methods. It was really no wonder that out of all of Lan Qiren’s former students, he had been the one to develop a new cultivation technique…unfortunately it was demonic cultivation, but again, even that wasn’t too surprising given what Lan Qiren knew of him. But nothing of what Lan Qiren remembered suggested that he was fundamentally bad. On the contrary, his impression, however begrudging, had been that Wei Wuxian had always sought, in his own way, to do the right thing. Could demonic cultivation really have driven him mad so quickly?

It seemed unlikely.

Nie Mingjue had said that Jin Guangshan was using Wei Wuxian’s reckless actions to push Jiang Cheng into a corner. That meant two things: first, that the righteous Chifeng-zun did not necessarily believe that Wei Wuxian had acted wrongly, a significant statement in itself given the involvement of the Wen sect that Nie Mingjue hated like a raging fire, and secondly, that Jin Guangshan was probably not-so-subtly demanding recompense for the loss of his guards while cloaking himself in the mantle of justice – though given the Jiang sect’s current situation, he couldn’t possibly be trying for something like trade agreements or cultivation treasures; he’d be seen as bullying the weak. It wasn’t as if the Jiang sect even had any particularly fine treasures left to be forced to hand over…

Lan Qiren frowned, hand instinctively rising up to stroke his beard.

He recalled now that Lan Xichen had reported on Jin Guangshan making a few noises about Wei Wuxian being too young and impulsive to have sole custody over the Stygian Tiger Seal, though Lan Qiren had at the time dismissed such rumors as nonsense – of course the creator had the right to his creation; it wasn’t as though they were thieves that went to war over any given trinket. The Jiang sect would kick up a stink if anyone tried to steal one of their only mainstays out from under them, and every small sect, thinking of the sanctity of their own precious treasures, would support them…but that protection only applied if Wei Wuxian were part of the Jiang sect, which he might very well not be if he refused to apologize for his actions.

Which, knowing his character, was likely.

If Jiang Cheng couldn’t force Wei Wuxian to apologize, he could only expel him from his sect – no one could keep a disciple that would not listen under such circumstances. That would be deemed punishment enough, allowing Jiang Cheng to keep anyone from going after Wei Wuxian over the immediate matter, but it would leave Wei Wuxian defenseless in the face of any future controversy. Wei Wuxian was young and impulsive, arrogant and self-assured in his genius, and for all his many faults Jin Guangshan was both vicious and cunning, skilled in schemes; in seeking to protect his shixiong, Jiang Cheng would in fact be playing into his hands – worse, he’d know all the while that that was what was happening, and there would still be nothing he could do to stop it.

Wei Wuxian’s actions might be wrong and they might not be wrong, that judgment remained to be made, but they were certainly illicit, and Jin Guangshan was not wrong in calling for justice as a result of them. Any hope there might have been in finding an honorable way out of the dilemma had long been extinguished. Even if there had been some misconduct that had so incited Wei Wuxian, it was the word of the Jin sect against his, and there was no hope that Wei Wuxian could win or even match such a battle of reputations, tainted as he was by his unorthodox cultivation style and his insistence on continuing it even in times of peace.

In short, regardless of the facts, Wei Wuxian’s actions, or at least the way he had gone about them, were bad enough that anyone who stood up for him at this moment would have their honor tarnished alongside his. Normally, that would be Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng was in a very precarious position at the moment. He was the sect leader of a sect that needed rebuilding; with only a single blood sister, of marriageable age and likely to be married out to secure an alliance as soon as possible, it was not going too far to say that Jiang Cheng’s face was the Jiang sect’s face. Even if he wanted to cast aside all other concerns and defend Wei Wuxian to the end, he couldn’t – to do so would disgrace his sect, throwing their reputation into the mud. His subsidiary sects and even his own disciples would turn away from him, their morale damaged, and start to seek other patrons, and once they went, it would turn into a chain reaction, one departure leading to another, a lack of funds, a lack of respect…

His barely revived sect would begin to collapse from the inside.

No, Jiang Cheng’s hands were very well tied. He really was backed into a corner.

But Lan Qiren…

Lan Qiren had a different set of considerations.

#mdzs #lan qiren #nie mingjue #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #variations #discordant rhapsody #slight handwaving of timeline

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agenderfluidjourney · 2 years ago

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Here’s me live tweeting a bit of a meltdown in 2022 in the lead up to coming out as genderfluid to my wife. Also I was on a plane and running on zero sleep

I’m at the airport at 4AM for work and I hate hate hate being away from my wife and daughter. I am flying out and flying back same day, though. I could not handle a job that I had to travel regularly.

That anxiety is at an incredible high and I am laugh crying in public to a TikTok about skeletons because I am an absolute bundle of nerves right now.

I would share the TikTok, but it’s not exactly the kind of appropriate I want to share right now, maybe when you’re older.

I am planning on coming out as genderfluid to my wife tomorrow. Wish me luck? Tell me an encouraging story?

I do really appreciate a couple of absolutely incredible folx who have been helping me out already.

I am just bristling with nervous energy, but it’s the only way I’ll actually go through with this.

I have decided to start psyching myself out about this while on a plane after getting 4 hours of sleep. I literally cannot do anything about this until tomorrow evening. More than 24 hours away. Airplane anxiety is best anxiety.

Alright no more panic tweets for a while. Thank you.

My wife loves Halloween, Ouran Host Club, and Loki the Norse God. We just had a conversation last week about “queering the catalogue” as an academic concept, and regularly talk about gender. Coming out as genderfluid is going to go great. Right? Right! Yeah.

Flight attendant: Something to drink?

Me: Gingerale to calm my nerves.

Fight attendant: Nervous about flying?

Me: Something like that.

Am I self conscious about generally live tweeting my own coming out to my wife? Yes. Is compulsively tweeting my anxiety helping in any way? Maybe? Am I doing it anyway? Yes.

This is actually my first time in the office. I hope they have a prayer, meditation, and crying room.

Excited to put on my professional facade for my coworkers today while screaming internally. Literally going to be in a conference room with them for 6 hours today.

I gotta imagine office work suppresses a whole lot of folks identity. Not just because of the capitalist social constructs, but also because it’s so oppressively mundane that I cant’t properly be introspective.

Which is fine at this precise moment because this oppressive environment is also suppressing my anxiety through broad spectrum exhaustion.

Honestly, there have only been a tiny handful of times I managed to surprise her with a birthday gift or event or something. The idea that I could maintain a secret twitter from her for over a year is frankly implausible.

I’m a big ‘ol bundle of nerves worrying about what my wife might think when I tell her I’m genderfluid. But like, she’s always been so much more smart and clever than me, that I would not be surprised if she already knows about this twitter and is just waiting t this point.

I don’t know if I’ve ever made it clear how absolutely head over heels in love I am with my wife. She’s pulled me out of my lowest lows and supported my highest highs. We talked about getting married within weeks of dating and have been married over a decade.

We talk about getting old together, about running a quirky bed and breakfast. We never leave a room without saying I love you, and the words have never lost an ounce of meaning.

I’m so very much in love, but that’s part of what’s making me so nervous about coming out to her.

So, I’m still planning on coming out to my wife tomorrow. But her best friend just went into labor a week and a half early and we’re supposed to be there for emotional support and my flight home was delayed and I’ve been up since 4AM. There is no “right time”

I am flying back to the love of my life, and, tomorrow, I’m gonna tell her everything I think I know about my gender. I have a bag of my favorite candy, and I have some marvelous people providing me with great support.

Also everything is a lot right now, but I am made of incandescent laser beams and stardust, beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth!

The candy is butterfingers.

So when I talk to my wife tomorrow, I’m going to lead with showing her this comic. This is the first thing that hit me like a ton of bricks that maybe my weird quirks are more than just “a cis dude in touch with his feminine side”

Followed by lots of reassurances of what I feel like is a precise understanding of where I’m at currently, and why I’m telling her now.

The next big thing I want to be really clear of is how it impacts how I feel about her (specifically that it doesn’t, she’s the light of my life, but that I want to be more transparent about identity feeling I’ve been having)

If I get that far and it hasn’t already turned into a natural conversation (or be otherwise derailed) my last major focus is to listen and support her with whatever feelings she may have.

And that might be shock, or anger, or fear, or sadness. She might be hurt and she might need to grieve. It could be that there’s a long process of talking and figuring it out afterwards and it might not be easy.

I could be really setting myself up for a rough time. But I don’t get to decide how she feels about this change in my identity. She gets to decide how she feels. I can’t rob her of that agency. We’ve been married for a decade, she has my trust and respect.

Almost home, going to pass out, been up for 28 hours. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.

I came out to my wife as genderfluid, and she is incredible and accepting and we’re talking it out and while she was surprised and a little stunned she was pretty much like “well, yeah”

I’m still nervous as we’re talking through stuff, but we’re figuring it out together and that is infinitely better than where I was at previously.

Asked my wife to braid my hair this afternoon and I didn’t have to worry about what she might think.

Gonna spend a little time away from twitter, but I wanted to bookend my little milestone. I’m incredibly glad I came out to my wife about my genderfluidity, and that she has been understanding and accepting. My artistry isn’t much, but I felt a need to capture the moment.

It’s just a beginning, and there’s work to be done, but there’s nobody I’d rather do it with than her. Been married a decade, so I suppose I already knew that.

A huge thanks to the folks who helped me out with kind words of encouragement and advice

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shellbilee · 5 years ago

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His Whole World

A Henry Cavill One Shot

Summary: A fluffy one shot based on a request I received from the lovely @thisisntmyrightera :

“Can i request something where the reader and Henry have a baby girl and all the pregnancy Kal was very protective and careful with his human mommy and now it's time to introduce him to his human baby sister, with tons of fluffy and sweetie things”

Apologies for the delay in posting this my dear. I don’t feel like I completely stuck to your request but I hope you still enjoy it all the same!

Pairing: Henry x You/Reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: Giving birth but nothing graphic. Mostly sweet Cavill fluff. Brace yourselves, it will make your teeth rot.

A/N: I don’t have enough words to thank you @alyxkbrl. You are my unofficial editor and my sanity savior when writing these brings me close to breaking point. So much love for you my darling!

Also, I listened to the Script’s ‘Never Seen Anything Quite Like You’ as I wrote this - I’d recommend playing it from the Henry’s POV part (I’ve made it bold!) while you read!

---

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” Henry asks, his voice deep and velvety smooth even over the phone. You smile and lean back into the couch, resting one hand on your swollen belly. “Big�� you reply with a sigh, looking down at his gorgeous face on your phone. “Tired. Sore. Hungry. Honestly, I feel like I’m the size of a whale”. Henry offers an affectionate smile and shakes his head. “Then you're the most beautiful whale that I’ve ever seen darling ”. You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh shush. What time is the event tonight?” you ask softly, wanting to change the subject.

“7” Henry answers, glancing over to his left to where you can hear people talking nearby, “My tux is here ready to go so I’m going to start getting ready shortly”. You smile adoringly. “Make sure you send me a photo please, you know I love seeing you in a tux”. Henry smiles, “I will love. Are you going to be okay tonight? You know I don’t love the idea of you being home alone and eight months pregnant. Are you sure I can’t call mum and ask her to come over?”.

You shake your head and offer your most reassuring smile to your apparently anxious husband. “Henry, relax baby. I’m going to be fine. I’ve got Ali on speed dial if anything happens and besides, I’ve got the best protector of all watching over me”. You turn the camera so that Kal appears in the frame, Henry’s expression softening when he sees Kal laying protectively by your side.

“Good boy bear. You look after your mummy for me okay?”. Kal lets out a loud sigh and shifts to rest his head on your thigh at the sound of Henry’s voice. You smile down at Kal and pat his head lovingly, turning the phone back to you so Henry is looking at you again. You watch as he smiles and reaches up to run his fingers through his curls, unable to help your smile at the sight. Even now, even after being with him for over a year, he still manages to make you swoon with the smallest of actions.

“What are you going to do tonight my love?” Henry asks, looking over the phone towards someone calling his name before looking back to you, “Any plans?”. You laugh and shake your head, still stroking Kal with your free hand. “Ah, not much babe. Probably just sit and watch a movie or two” you reply with a small laugh, patting your stomach, “There’s not a whole lot I can do in---”. Your words trail off when you feel a sharp movement in your belly, a sudden pain in your left side as something is wedged under your ribs. You wince audibly and jolt forward, the breath knocking out of your lungs as Kal springs to attention at the sound of your pained gasp. “Sweetheart are you okay?” Henry asks quickly, his face flashing with alarm, “What happened?”.

You hold your breath as you poke at your belly, exhaling loudly when you feel what feels like a foot dislodge a few moments later. “Ahh” you exclaim in relief, giving an alarmed Kal a reassuring pat and settling back on the couch, “I’m okay. Little one’s just been really active today” you say to Henry, flashing him what you hope is a comforting smile, “I’m fine baby”. “Do you want me to come home? I can leave right now”. You shake your head insistently, patting your belly gently. “Don’t be silly Henry. Tonight’s important for you. I’ll be more than fine”.

Henry glances over at the sound of someone calling his name again, holding up a finger to them to signal that he’ll be a moment. He turns back to you and sighs, shaking his head as he smiles. “You’re so stubborn darling”. You chuckle and flash him a mischievous grin, tilting your head as you look at the screen, “That’s why you love me”. Henry laughs this time, deep and throaty, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair again. “Okay my love, I have to go and get ready. I love you okay? I’ll keep my phone on me at all times, I promise”. You nod and smile, “Okay baby, I love you more. Have fun alright? And don’t forget my photo!”. Henry grins - the utterly handsome, devastatingly sexy smile that made you fall for him all those months ago, blowing a cheeky kiss to his phone and waving at you. “I won’t. I’ll see you later tonight sweetheart. I love you”. You smile and wave and in an instant he’s gone from the screen, Kal letting out a heavy sigh as he shifts beside you on the couch.

You drop your phone and look down at Kal, stroking his head lovingly as he looks up at you with his brown, liquid eyes. “Just you and me tonight hey bear?” you ask gently, watching as he blinks slowly and closes his eyes. You smile affectionately at the massive dog cuddled at your side, thinking about how protective he’d been all throughout your pregnancy. You were three months in when you’d first noticed him acting differently, following you from room to room every time you moved about the house, constantly sitting by you as if he was guarding you from some unknown threat. He’d even started to ignore Henry as if he had eyes only for you, even sleeping by your side of the bed instead of his mat in the corner of the bedroom.

You’d heard about it - dogs becoming protective during pregnancy, but you hadn’t really believed it until you’d actually seen it. When you’d started to grow Kal’s behaviour had increased again, forever sniffing your belly or resting his head by it whenever you’d sat down. As if having an over protective, pedantic husband wasn’t enough, you now had a hundred and twenty pound bear shadow. You patted Kal’s head gently as you picked up the TV remote, flicking through the channels until you settled on a rerun episode of Sex and the City. You lounged with Kal on the couch for three episodes until the food cravings got too much, eventually hauling yourself off the sofa and making your way towards the kitchen with Kal in tow.

You set about making a bowl of mac and cheese - a food that apparently, you couldn’t get enough of with this pregnancy, pottering about the kitchen as Kal watches you closely from his spot on the floor. “Oh Kal” you breathe as you pop the bowl in the microwave and make your way over to the fridge for a piece of chocolate mud cake - another food that you couldn’t get enough of, turning to the bear as you take a bite of cake. “When is this going to be over?”. Kal lets out a gentle ‘woo’ in response and you smile, chewing on your mouthful of cake as you look down at your enormous belly.

You weren’t due for another seventeen days but you knew that the baby could technically come at any time between now and then. Still, you felt big, fat and uncomfortable and after eight and a bit months you were more than ready to be rid of your beach ball stomach. Henry on the other hand, couldn’t have been more opposite, your husband apparently loving the changes that the pregnancy had brought to your body. The way your breasts had swelled and rounded, the way your hips had somehow become even curvier than they had been, the way your belly had grown. He’d put his hands on you whenever he got the chance, tenderly caressing every part of you as he’d whisper just how much he loved you and your body. He’d worship every inch of skin every time you’d have sex - which, with your sudden spike in sex drive had been several times per week, holding you close as he’d bring you to orgasm again and again and again.

He’d been so loving and dutiful throughout your pregnancy that thinking about it almost made you tear up, the way he’d made it to every single ultrasound, every appointment and check up, every birthing class even when his ridiculous schedule made it seem impossible. So many times he’d caught red eye flights just to make it home to be at appointments with you, spending the night with his arms wrapped protectively around you only to be flying back out at dawn the next morning. When he was home he’d been nothing short of amazing, waiting on you hand and foot and catering to your every need whether it was rubbing your swollen feet or ducking out at three AM to get a can of whipped cream that you’d been craving.

His paternal side had started to show too - something that made your heart flutter and your face soften every time you saw it. The way that he’d buried himself in baby research, finding out the ultimate do’s and don’ts, both for during your pregnancy and for when the baby finally came. The way he’d spoken to his parents and his brothers, taking in every single piece of fatherly advice that he possibly could. The way he’d speak to your belly, to your baby, reading stories and even sometimes his scripts, talking to your bump and sharing just how much he was looking forward to meeting them.

Henry was going to be an incredible dad, that much you were certain of, knowing that he’d do or be anything, for you and your baby. You remembered the way he’d looked when you’d first been shown the heartbeat on the monitor in the doctor’s office, the way his eyes had widened, the way his grip on your hand had tightened. In that sudden moment your whole world had just changed, and from looking at Henry’s face as he’d stared at the screen, you’d known that his had too. Everything else in the world no longer mattered. It was just you, him and the baby.

You smile at the memory and take another bite of cake in your hand, licking your sticky fingers when your phone suddenly begins to ring. You look down to see Ali, your best friend’s name glowing on the screen and you chuckle knowing that she was calling for the millionth time to check in on you. “Hey Ali” you exclaim as you answer the call and put the phone to your ear, “How’s things?”. “I should be asking you that don’t you think?” Ali replies brightly and you can tell just from her voice that there was a smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”. You laugh, “Big. Round. Fat. Oh Al, I’m so ready to be done with this pregnancy” you answer, looking down as Kal suddenly stands and moves over to you. Ali laughs, “I bet you are. But not long now, you’ve only got a few weeks left right?”. You nod, “2 and a half to be exact, though it feels more like 2 and a half months. To be honest I’m hoping it happens earlier”.

You hear Ali giggle and you know she’s shaking her head. “How are you feeling about it all? About the birth?”. The microwave beeps and you bend to pull your mac and cheese out, frowning when Kal gets in the way and nudges your belly with his nose. “Kal stop” you scold, pushing him with your foot when he doesn’t move. “Um, how am I feeling?” you repeat as you pull the bowl out and set it on the counter. “Okay. Pretty scared actually. I mean, what if something goes wrong? What if I can’t do it?”. Ali scoffs loudly, “Come on Y/N, don’t think like that. You’re going to be fine babe. And besides, you’ll have me, and Henry right by your side the whole time”. You nod and grab a spoon, stirring through your snack, “I know. It’s just you know, it’s giving birth, it’s actually having it. It’s a big scary thing and so many things can go wrong”. “I know, but you can’t think like that. There’s no point in stressing yourself out for no reason. Speaking of, how is Henry about it all?”.

You open your mouth to answer her when Kal pushes into your legs again, letting out a whine when you look down at him. “Is that Kal?” Ali asks, her voice in your ear as Kal paws at your legs. “Yeah” you answer, looking down at him with a frown, “He’s acting really strange. He keeps whining too. What is it bear?” you ask gently, watching as he begins to pace back and forth in front of you, letting out a low growl. “I can hear him. What’s he doing?” Ali asks as you watch him, your brows furrowed as you watch the furry bear. “He’s pacing now” you reply as you put down your spoon, bending down to kneel at his level to comfort him.

You feel it as soon as your knee hits the floor, the small pop feeling and the sudden rush of fluid between your thighs. You gasp audibly, frozen in place as Kal whines and bounces from paw to paw, Ali’s voice in your ear asking if you’re okay. You let out a shaky breath, unable to answer, patting your legs and feeling the damp cotton beneath your fingertips. Oh God. It’s happening. “Y/N?” Ali asks again, her voice getting louder when you don’t answer her, “Y/N is everything okay? What happened?”. “Ali” you breathe, your voice shaky as you look from your legs to Kal and back again, your free hand coming around to clutch your belly protectively, “Ali my water just broke, the baby’s coming”.

---

Henry slams the taxi door shut and sprints up the steps towards the hospital, dashing through the doors and coming to a sharp halt at the reception desk. “My wife, she’s in labour. I need to get to her room now. Y/N Cavill” he states quickly, unable to think about anything but you as the nurse at the desk looks back at him, wide eyed and startled. He lets out a loud sigh as he watches the recognition cross her face, not in the mood for a starstruck fan as he taps his foot impatiently. Oh please not now. “Please, I just need the room number” he tries again, running his fingers through his hair exasperated as another nurse steps in to help, “My wife is having our baby. I need to be there”. “Y/N Cavill did you say?” the second nurse asks and Henry nods, practically bouncing on his feet as he watches her type into the computer. “Floor 5, room 36”.

He thanks her as he dashes away from the desk, barely registering the first nurse saying “Do you know who that was?” behind him as he finds the elevator and punches the up button rapidly. Miraculously it opens immediately and jumps in and hits the button for the 5th floor, hurriedly tapping the close doors button as he breathes loudly. Y/N. “I’m almost there baby” he whispers as the doors finally close, running his fingers through his hair again as he looks back at his reflection in the elevator doors.

He’s still in his tux, bow tie and all, his previously styled hair now slightly disheveled from having run his fingers through it so many times. He can’t believe he missed the call - the call that he’d promised to answer if it had happened, angry at himself for letting Mel, his assistant take his phone while he’d posed for photos. “Just a few pictures Henry. It will only take a minute or two” she’d said, taking his phone and instructing him to stand in front of the sea of cameras. That minute, as it turned out, had turned into several, photos quickly becoming questions and questions quickly becoming interviews. He’d turned to Mel after his second interview with a reporter whose publication he couldn’t even remember, her face pale and her eyes wide as she’d put her hand on his arm in guilt. “Henry, it’s Y/N. She’s in labour. She’s having the baby”. Four words, four little words that had sent him spiralling into a panic, disappearing from the awards night like smoke as he’d hailed down a cab and high tailed it to the hospital.

The elevator dings as the doors opens in front of him, Henry reading the sign in front and dashing down the hallway to room 36. He can hear you yelling before he even reaches the door, his heart panging with guilt for not being there with you when it happened. Oh Y/N, my beautiful girl. He pushes through the door and instantly his eyes fall to you, your eyes wide and panicked as you lay on your back on the hospital bed, Ali beside you and holding your hand as you brace yourself for a coming contraction.

“Henry!” you breathe, your voice sounding almost defeated at the sight of him, his heart hammering at the sound,”Oh you’re here”. “I’m so sorry sweetheart” Henry gasps as he rushes towards you, bending to kiss your forehead and holding your free hand in his, “I’m so so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have left you at home alone”. You open your mouth to respond but quickly close it as a contraction hits you, Henry feeling his heart break in his chest as he watches your face contort in pain. “It’s---it’s okay, Henry” you manage to say between breaths, letting out a heavy exhale of relief when the contraction settles several seconds later, “How were you supposed to know today would be the day? Luckily, I was on the phone to Ali when it happened and she came a few minutes later to bring me here”.

Henry looks up at Ali for the first time properly since he’d arrived, letting go of your hand to walk around the bed and pull her into an embrace. “Oh Ali, thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough for being there for Y/N”. Ali smiles as he pulls away, patting his arm reassuringly. “It’s no trouble at all Henry, I’m just glad you’re here now”. He turns back to you and feels his face soften at the sight of you, you, his angel, his perfect girl, your face red and flushed as you breathe heavily on the bed. He can’t believe this is it, that it’s finally happening, the thing he’d been waiting for, dreaming about for the longest time. A child, his baby, your baby. A family. A family just like he’d always wanted.

“You didn’t send me a photo” you say to Henry as he drags a chair over to the side of the bed, smiling gently at you as he sits and takes your hand in his. “I know, I’m sorry” he replies softly, reaching over to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before leaning back to kiss your hand. He smiles when you pout adorably. “The only reason I’m forgiving you is because you’re here now and I get to see the real thing in person” you reply with a soft smile that makes Henry melt inside, thinking once again just how beautiful you are as he looks at you, “And yes I really do love when you wear a tu---”. Your voice trails off when a fresh contraction hits you like a tidal wave, your face screwed up in pain as you grip Henry’s hand to manage your way through it. A loud whimper escapes your lips and Henry feels his stomach knot, feeling utterly helpless as he watches you brace your way through the pain. He can’t stand seeing you like this - he can’t even stand seeing you cry, and all of a sudden he can’t help but wonder how he’s going to be able to watch you do this without his heart breaking in two. “Breathe Y/N, you’ve got this” Ali encourages, holding your other hand as you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a cry of pain.

“Is this normal? Should we call the doctor?” Henry asks helplessly, looking at you and then over at Ali and back again, “Should we ask for pain relief or something?”. Henry sees you shake your head no as the contraction begins to subside seconds later, your breathing heavy as your grip on his hand loosens. “No” you breathe, the beginnings of sweat starting to form across your brow, “I want to do this naturally”. Henry frowns and looks back at Ali who looks almost as helpless as he does, shrugging her shoulders. “Sweetheart be reasonable”. You shake your head no again, eyes finally fluttering open, looking back at Henry with determined eyes. “No, I can do this. I want to do this” you say quietly, all three of you suddenly turning at the sound of people entering the room.

“Oh good, dad’s here” the tall blonde woman remarks as she walks into the room, pulling on a set of blue rubber gloves, “Mr Cavill I’m Dr Roberts. Pleasure to meet you” she says, smiling warmly at Henry as a nurse moves in to check your vitals. “Please call me Henry” he asks, letting go of your hand and shifting back to give the nurse room. The doctor smiles and turns to look down at you, offering you a reassuring smile. “Now, Y/N. How are we doing? Let’s have a little look shall we? See how things are progressing”.

Henry shrugs off his jacket as he watches the nurse drape a blanket over you, the doctor perching on a stool between your open legs to perform her check. He steps forward when he sees you reaching for his hand again, looking down at you with a reassuring smile as you wrap your fingers in his. “Okay, we’re not quite fully dilated yet but you’re not far off Y/N. You’re doing a great job honey. How’s your pain?”. You don’t have time to respond before another contraction is hitting you, Henry clutching your hand in both of his as he watches in dismay as you bear through the pain. He swallows thickly, fighting the urge to hold back an audible wince. Oh Y/N, my darling girl. “Breathe Y/N, in and out, that’s the way” the doctor encourages, Henry not taking his eyes off of you as you grit your teeth and let out an agonising groan. He wishes he could do something, anything, to help you through it, do something, anything to lessen the pain.

“Still a while apart” Dr Roberts notes to the nurse before turning to face you. “Are you wanting an epidural Y/N? Because if so, you need to say so right now” the doctor asks you when you finally open your eyes again, Henry chewing on the inside of his cheek when you shake your head no. “Are you sure?” the doctor asks again, giving you another chance to say yes, “There’s no shame in getting one honey, it’s still going to be you pushing, it just won’t hurt quite as much”. Henry can’t help but smile down at you when you still shake your head no, you, his stubborn, brave little angel, a warrior if he’d ever seen one. The doctor smiles warmly, nodding to the nurse beside her. “Okay, we’ll be back soon to check in on you again Y/N. You’re doing great love, just keep going”. She smiles at you and turns to Ali and Henry to offer the same, exiting the room and leaving the three of you alone again.

“You’re doing great sweetheart” Henry says, bending to kiss your knuckles and smiling gently, “I’m so proud of you”. You smile weakly at him and let out a sigh, reaching down to touch your belly. “Come on little one” you say in a gentle voice that makes Henry smile, “It’s time for you to come out now”. Henry rubs his thumb over your knuckles and reaches out to put his hand over yours on your belly, unable to help his smile as he looks up at your tired face. He knows that you’re not even halfway there - that the hardest part is still to come, his heart breaking just that little bit more when he thinks about how tough it’s going to be for you. He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by another crashing contraction, this time a cry falling from your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and grip harder on his hand.

Several forehead kisses, words of encouragement from both he and Ali, and crippling contractions later, Dr Roberts returns for another check and announces that it’s time. It’s then that Henry feels like the entire world has slowed down around him, eyes only for you, his wife, his love, watching as you get ready for the biggest battle of your life. Your eyes meet his, wide and panicked and he knows you’re terrified, yet he can’t ignore the shine of determination he sees when you tighten your fingers around his and hold on for dear life.

He watches as you squeeze your eyes shut and bear down as you’re told, a yell of pain falling from your lips as your body performs it’s first push. It’s then that the first tears fall from your eyes, a stab of pain hitting Henry’s chest as he watches you push with every ounce of energy you have. He feels his own eyes well up as he watches you in front of him, unaware of anything else around him except you. He has both of his hands clasped around yours at this point, whispering words of encouragement and telling you how much he loves you as you push and push and push. A tear falls down his face when you let out another excruciating scream, your face flushed, sweaty and contorted in pain as you drop your head back into the pillow. You’re sobbing now, chest heavy with huge, body shaking sobs, your hand in Henry’s tighter than ever.

He can hear Ali’s voice telling you to keep going, the nurse and Dr Roberts telling you to push, though it’s all a muffled blur in his mind. All he can hear is your cries, the noise making his bones shake and his blood curl, his hands holding yours as he watches you turn to him. For a moment he feels panic, the defeated, exhausted look on your face telling him that you’re done, your eyes meeting his in a gaze that shares all emotions. He knows you’re exhausted, he knows you’re hurting, but you can do this. You, the love of his life, his warrior, his angel, the strongest woman he’s ever known. You can do this.

Henry stands and bends to press his lips to your sweaty forehead, his hand still in yours as he whispers that he loves you with his whole heart and that you’re his entire world. He knows that you’ve got this, that you can do this, that you’ve come this far and you’re almost there. He looks down to see your wide eyes looking back at him, huge and terrified yet strong and determined, the tears slipping down your face as you look back at each other with nothing but love and adoration.

He watches as you suck in a breath and lift your head once again, squeezing your eyes shut and gritting your teeth as you get ready to push again. He’s in awe as he watches you, his wife, his goddess, bearing down with every push and using every single ounce of strength and energy you have to push through it all. Cry after cry leaves your lips and the tears continue to slip down your cheeks, your hands never leaving his or Ali’s as you give it everything you have. After what seems like hours Henry hears the doctor’s voice behind him, his eyes never leaving yours when he hears her say that you’re close, that you’re almost there, that you’ve almost done it. He grips your hand and bends so that he’s near your face once again, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches you sob and cry and squeeze your eyes shut for the final time. He holds your hand in his and bends to kiss your forehead, telling you once again just how much he loves you and just how proud he is of you, his wife, his superwoman. The love of his life, his everything, his whole, entire world.

All of a sudden the world is silent. Silent, except for the high pitched cry of a baby being brought into the world for the very first time. Silent, except for the sound of your newborn baby. It’s then that Henry feels the tears slip down his own cheeks, looking down at you beneath him, exhausted, spent and crying as he pushes your wet hair away from your face and kisses you. You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now, even with your hair a mess of sweat and tangles, even with your face red and tear stained, and that exact moment Henry knows that it’s a memory he’ll never forget.

“You did it sweetheart" Henry whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead and brushing away your sweaty hair, “You did it”. He smiles gently when you let out an exhausted sob and muster a small, weak smile, the foreign sound of the newborn’s cries suddenly making you both look up. “Henry, Y/N” Dr Roberts exclaims warmly as she passes a swaddled bundle of baby to a smiling Ali, “Congratulations, you have a new baby girl”.

And just like that, for the second time in less than a few hours, Henry’s entire world stops. Everything around him is a slow moving blur, his vision tunneled as it focuses only on the bundle in Ali’s arms. “Congratulations guys, she’s absolutely gorgeous” Ali whispers as she passes the baby to him, Henry watching wide eyed and wordless as he holds his child for the very first time. She’s completely perfect, rosy cheeked and adorable, tiny hands making fists as her face screws up at the new world around her. He’s never seen anything quite like her, the sight unlike anything he’s ever set his eyes on, his heart thumping in his chest in a way that he’s never felt before. Henry chokes back a sob as he holds her, her body tiny and fragile in his muscled arms, his eyes welling up with happy tears as he looks down at his precious baby girl.

He bends and passes her to you, your face instantly collapsing into tears when you see her, your entire face crumpling with happy sobs as you take your daughter in your arms. Henry sits by the bed and looks down at his two girls, unable to speak as he takes in the sight in front of him. His heart thumps in his chest and he feels an overwhelming sense of warmth flood through him, feeling nothing but pure and utter love as he looks down at her in your arms. His baby, his child, his baby girl. He can’t believe he has a daughter, a tiny little princess, an angel just like her mother.

His two perfect angels, his two beautiful girls, the two things in his life that have suddenly become his everything. He can’t help the tears that slip down his face as he watches you hold her against your chest, reaching out to caress her tiny cheek before wrapping your fingers in his. “Henry she’s perfect” you whisper in the softest of voices, eyes filled with love as you look down at your new baby girl. Henry smiles, “You both are, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you darling”. You flash Henry a loving smile and he squeezes your hand in his, the two of you looking up when you hear the snap of Ali’s phone camera. She smiles down at the three of you, her eyes threatening tears, the smile on her face growing even bigger when you motion for her to come towards you.

“Thank you Ali, for everything” you say softly, kissing Ali’s cheek when she bends to hug you and the baby, “You’re the most perfect best friend that a girl could ask for”. Henry watches as you smile lovingly up at Ali - the kind of smile that Henry knows only best friends can communicate through. “Have you decided on a name for her?” Ali asks as she bends to touch the baby’s hand, Henry smiling when she lets out a tiny squeak and wraps her tiny fingers around Ali’s pinky.

The question makes you look at Henry and in an instant he knows exactly what you’re thinking, a decision you’d made together but had chosen not to share with anyone else. You nod at Henry, almost as if you’re giving him permission to say it, Henry feeling his heart swell once again as he looks down at his precious princess cuddled against her mother’s chest. He smiles and squeezes your fingers in his, letting out a breath as he lifts his head to look back up at Ali. “We have actually. Ali, meet Harper Rose”.

---

“Are you ready for this?” Henry asks as you hold a sleeping Harper to your chest, the both of you smiling down at her when she lets out a little cooing sound. “Of course I am. Kal has to meet his baby sister. Besides, I haven’t seen him days and I need to see my boy”. Henry chuckles and puts his key in the front door, the sound of paws against floor boards heard seconds later as Kal comes thundering down the hallway. “Easy Kal” Henry commands as he pushes open the door, an excited Kal bursting through and wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of his two humans.

You step through the door and pass Harper to Henry, dropping to your knees as the rambunctious bear jumps at you happily. “Hey bear!” you exclaim loudly as Kal tries to climb into your lap, his tail wagging a million miles an hour and making Henry laugh. “I missed you big boy!”. Eventually he calms and the four of you make it through to the living room, Kal soon noticing the bundle in Henry’s arms and trying his hardest to inspect her.

“Gentle bear” Henry says sternly as he passes Harper to you, moving to stand behind Kal and holding onto his collar firmly. “You ready?” you ask and Henry nods in response, watching closely as you slowly bend and kneel on the floor with Harper in your arms. Kal strains forward to smell her and Henry tightens his grip on Kal’s collar, allowing him just enough slack to sniff Harper’s feet. “Kal bubba, this is your new baby sister, Harper” you say gently, the sound of his daughter’s name in your voice making Henry smile. It was still so new to him, so foreign, the reality of having a child still not quite sunken into his mind.

Henry relaxes his grip on Kal when he only lays down at your knees, sniffing Harper gingerly as if he knew that she was only a baby. “Good boy bear” Henry praises, reaching forward and patting Kal’s head softly, “Good boy Kal”. “He’s doing so well” you whisper, lowering Harper even more so that Kal can sniff her further, “Look how gentle he’s being”. Henry doesn’t say anything, only smiles as he watches the interaction between the three of you, once again feeling the overwhelming sense of warmth and love that he’d felt the first time he’d seen Harper. You, Y/N, his superwoman, the love of his life. Harper, his tiny little princess, his adorable bundle of joy. And Kal, his mighty hound, the furry bear that had always been by his side. The three of you, together, a new little family.

Henry lets out a silent breath as he watches you pat Kal’s head affectionately, a proud smile on your face as you watch the bear meet his new baby sister. You laugh and look up to meet Henry’s eye, flashing him a gorgeous smile that instantly makes his heart swell and his insides stir. In that exact moment Henry knows that he could never love anything as much as he loves the three of you, realising that for the very first time in his life he finally has what he’s always dreamed of having. You, Harper and Kal, his everything, his whole world, his family.

---

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emilia3546 · 4 years ago

Text

Shadowsinger Part 7 -Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

*****

Azriel fought the urge to fidget, waiting, hidden in the shadows at the back of the room, not all the camp lords were even here yet, but they were still complaining. A clock in the corner struck nine and, almost as one, heads turned to the doorway, to Rhys' form appearing there, right on time. Azriel dispelled the shadows, and almost grinned at the clear surprise of some camp lords, and the outright fear of others, those who'd been toeing the line of outright treason. The moment Rhys stepped into the room, the camp lords stood, some smiled at him, others remained neutral, but there were a few who were glaring at him as if he were the greatest evil they'd ever seen. Rhys waved it all off, taking his seat at the head of the table,

"Sit down, and let's get on with it." Silence still reigned over the table as Azriel stalked across the room to stand behind Rhys, a hand casually resting on Truthteller's hilt at his side. "I believe there are some issues that you wish to discuss," Rhys started, but silenced an overeager lord with a look, "And I will listen, but my decision on matters will be final, is that understood?" He was met by begrudging nods and allowed the first lord to speak,

"Thank you, High Lord." Good, at least this one hadn't forgotten his manners. Azriel fought the instinct to glare at Ironcrest's camp lord, the arrogant shit that he was, "I do have some concerns about some of your new rules,"

"Laws." Azriel corrected him, "You don't get to belittle laws you don't like."

"My apologies, about your new laws. My daughter, she now has to train with the boys, and wear leathers, I can see them looking at her, and it disgusts me. I have to protect her, but I cannot if you insist that she is trained with the boys." Rhys nodded slowly,

"I understand your concern, but, that is exactly why she should be trained, so that you don't need to protect her all the time. Can she hold her own in a fight?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you don't need to worry, but I will consider allowing all-female training sessions for those who prefer, and," he added seeing the uproar that was about to kick off, "I will ensure a plan is made to avoid limiting training time for males and the females who are happy to train with them." The camp lord narrowed his eyes for a moment, considering, but sat down, Azriel knew better than to believe he was actually happy, but there was no other way for him to push back. It seemed that, for now at least, he would be content. The moment he sat down another stood to take his place,

"You might be content to see your girls fighting, but I am not. I do not care that your mate fights, High Lord, it is not in females' nature to fight, they will get hurt, and will be unable to do the jobs that they are supposed to do."

"What? Get married and breed?" Rhys raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "I'd consider your answer very carefully,"

"No, but someone has to maintain the camps, do the cooking, make clothes, look after children. Males train and fight full-time, there is no time for that, females fighting is ridiculous, when that isn't what they are designed to do."

"Again, I do understand that you worry about the integrity of your camp, but, I assure you, with both males and females helping with household chores, there is ample time to train and maintain a home."

"I don't think you understand the time it takes, High Lord, it can't be done."

"It can be done, with both males and females helping. Cassian probably works and trains more than all of you, and his mate matches him minute for minute, but they still find time to cook, clean the House, and spend time with their family." The camp lord struggled for words for a moment, "I will have plans written up to help with this if needed, but give yourselves some time to adjust, and teach your sons how to help their sisters and mothers." The camp lord nodded, not quite satisfied, but contented again. Azriel almost winced, if only he knew exactly what they wanted, what exactly Rhys could do to prevent them from rebelling, neither of the two lords who had spoken were really happy, they were just going to wait until Rhys made a wrong move, and strike.

Azriel watched silently, glaring at anyone who liked like he might start violence, and stepped closer to Rhys, ready to step in front of him if needed, but the room stilled when Ironcrest's camp lord stepped up,

"High Lord," he slightly inclined his head to Rhys, in a mockery of a bow, "Hello, Shadowsinger," he chuckled, "Our ability to protect our people comes from our ability to maintain order," each word was carefully chosen but Azriel knew what he really meant, he wanted to be able to control his people, "For protecting our females, that means keeping them in the camp, where they are safe, now they will be tempted to fly somewhere they cannot be protected, where no male knows where they are. We must keep them in the camp for their own safety, and not tempt them with flight elsewhere, into danger." Azriel almost snarled,

"Safety? Is that what you call it?" Rhys chuckled, "I call it control, and it makes you no better than those fae who kept humans as slaves, but you at least convince your enslaved people into thinking that you want to protect them. You don't fool me, but, since the threat of a female not being to defend herself outside of the camps is genuine, you have brought up the exact reason for my insistence that they also train." The lord's face fell for a moment,

"If they fight, they might start to think that they can lead,"

"They can lead, unless you're worried that you might become dispensable." The lord chuckled,

"Of course not, but I will not have my females thinking that they are more than what they are."

"And what is that?" Rhys' voice was a low warning,

"Wives and mothers, homekeepers, not warriors, that is and has always been, a male role, I will not allow you to destroy our culture." With that he stood and left, leaving silence in his wake,

"Anyone who tries to ignore any laws will be punished as such, if help is needed to adjust it can be provided, or if there are genuine concerns outside of 'females' place' do send me a letter, and I will address them as best I can." Rhys then stood, and rested a hand on Azriel's shoulder, winnowing them both back to Velaris.

Azriel almost stumbled on hitting the ground outside the River House,

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and Rhys blinked,

"What?"

"That was awful, you should have known exactly what they wanted and how to truly avoid a war, that just delayed it."

"I know enough to know that truly avoiding a war is near impossible,"

"But not impossible, not with the right intel."

"Az, you did everything right, anything more drastic would have been noticed," he placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder, "You didn't think you'd find much, don't worry," Azriel turned away,

"I didn't expect much, but I expected something, you shouldn't have had to go in there blind."

"Az, really, it's fine, your spies not being able to find anything tells us something else, we know at least that they're all being very careful with what they say, that they don't trust their own, and can't be unified." That was true, and Azriel nodded, "C'mon, we've got to make a plan, Feyre's waiting, and Cass will be here soon."

"No Nesta?"

"No, she'd already planned to go with Gwyn to visit Emerie." What? Rhys didn't miss the flash of worry in his eyes, "It's okay, Emerie says there's no hint of rebellion there, Mor dropped them off right at her house, and saw them go inside, no-one will attack them inside." Ariel nodded again and pushed the door open,

"Hold him," Feyre immediately brushed past him, dumping Nyx into his arms as she ran for the nearest bathroom. Azriel wrinkled his nose at the unmistakable scent of vomit, he held Nyx at arms length as the baby gurgled and hiccuped, still smelling, and Rhys chuckled behind him,

"He's not going to explode you know,"

"I know, he smells,"

"He's a baby, they smell." Azriel still held Nyx slightly away from his chest, but smiled when he narrowed his eyes, going still and then trying to leap for a shadow on Azriel's shoulder. With Nyx's tiny wings flapping, Azriel only just managed to catch him before he fell.

"Well he definitely takes after you, Mr Reckless." Rhys grinned again, and Azriel followed him through to the nursery, putting Nyx down and sending shadows racing around him, Nyx's shouts of joy as he chased them almost taking his mind off Illyria, almost, but not quite,

"Thanks, Az." Feyre grinned when she reappeared, armed with Velaris' best cleaning supplies as she made a beeline for her son, tickling him as she tried to clean him up, making faces at him to make him laugh and let her finish cleaning him. "Good boy," she muttered before releasing him to crawl after the shadows again. She flopped onto a couch next to Rhys, and he automatically threw an arm around her shoulders, "Meeting go well?"

"As well as we could have expected, they're all content for now, still grumbling, but they haven't got a decent excuse yet," Rhys explained, "We just need to brainstorm a few ideas about next steps now, so we can be prepared."

*****

Gwyn stifled a laugh as Nesta almost snorted out her mouthful of hot cocoa at Emerie's comment about one of their most recent books,

"He's not evil," she protested, "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all."

"Wrong place at the wrong time?" Emerie snorted, "He's literally a war criminal!"

"Well, I think he's got potential, he just needs to see an alternative." Nesta insisted, and looked over to Gwyn, "C'mon, back me up,"

"I think," Gwyn narrowed her eyes, "That we don't really know him well enough to make a proper judgement, he could literally be evil, or he could be hiding his motives, perhaps it'll be clearer in the next book." Nesta cheered, and finished her mug of cocoa, staring triumphantly at Emerie,

"She didn't agree with you, either, Nes!" She shouted after her as she ran off to the kitchen to refill her mug, and grinned when she returned,

"Anyway," Gwyn started, "Enough about fictional males, how's mated life treating you? We haven't had a proper discussion yet." Nesta snorted,

"I've only been back for a few days,"

"Still," Gwyn raised an eyebrow, and Nesta laughed,

"It's like, well you know what we were like before, it's like that, but somehow more, with the bond there, really there, everything is so much more intense, y'know."

"Not really," Emerie smiled, "Care to enlighten us?"

"You know when you love someone so much that when they're not there, you constantly want to check that they're okay?" Both Emerie and Gwyn nodded, Catrin, Gwyn had loved her that much, differently to how Nesta loved Cassian, but she had loved her so much. "It's more than that, it's like looking in a mirror, like seeing my soul reflected in his eyes."

"And the sex is good, yes?" Emerie chuckled, and Nesta blushed, trying to dodge the question,

"You have no idea," she finally muttered, earning a howl of laughter from Emerie, "Right after you mate, there's like a pull, and well,"

"Don't tell me you spent your whole honeymoon having sex?" Emerie giggled gleefully, enjoying this conversation far too much,

"Not all of it!" Nesta insisted, "We went to a little house in the mountains, Cass built it himself a while ago, right after Rhysand became high lord, it was the first time he'd ever been able to buy anything himself, so he bought the materials for that house." Gwyn smiled, "It's right by a lake, and when the sky's clear, and there's no wind, it looks like a mirror, like the stars and moon are shining up rather than down."

"It sounds beautiful," Gwyn mused,

"It is, and, I don't think he noticed, but when we went down to the lake one evening, some of the stars, they crested just over his wings, and almost looked like a set of armor, but then it disappeared, right as he pointed out some of the constellations, Enalius, he's the one I remember best, but there was a lion one, and a pegasus, and," Nesta paused, and pursed her lips, trying to remember, "And, oh a wolf. And then, he picked me up, and flew above the trees, and the stars were shining over the mountains in the distance. We picked a star. It's our star, whenever I look at it, I have to think of him, and when he looks at it he has to think of me. I know it's a bit lovey-dovey, but I like having that, even when he's not right here."

"I think it's cute," Gwyn squeezed Nesta's hand, "I'm gonna get some more marshmallows," she gestured to the dismally boring mugs of cocoa, and slipped off to the kitchen, and swore when she saw that they'd run out, "Em!" She shouted up the stairs, "You got any more marshmallows?"

"Yeah, there's some in the parlor at the side of the house, I think," Emerie shouted back, before howling with laughter, presumably at Nesta's expense, and Gwyn chuckled to herself as she stepped outside, the cold air nipping at her face as she quickly skirted round the house, keeping an eye out before rummaging through to find the marshmallows.

A hand clamped over her mouth, and muffled Gwyn's scream as she was dragged backwards, no, no, no, she couldn't, not again, tears pricked her eyes as she fought desperately to regain her balance, her panic clouding her mind. She forced herself to stop, to take a deep breath in. It was dark, no-one else was around, Nesta and Emerie were too far away to help her. She glanced around as much as she could, there, Emerie had a wood-chopping block set up, and the axe was still there. She relaxed, and stopped struggling, waiting for her attacker to grow complacent. He didn't, just tugged her tighter against him,

"You're one of the bitches who thought that females can fight," a voice hissed in her ear, "We'll see what our 'oh so powerful' High Lord thinks when he finds out we have you." Gwyn shivered in fear, slowly trying to loosen his grip on her, but the moment he slightly let go, he spun her around and threw her to the floor, she was several hundred meters from the house now, even if she screamed nobody would hear her. Right as she tried to get up, he kicked her hands out from underneath her, pinning her wrists to the floor. She couldn't breathe. This was it. She was going to die, right here, right now, she was going to die. "Pathetic," the male hissed, "Girls like you should know better than to go outside in the dark on your own, even if the camp is loyal, some of us don't agree with the new laws." Gwyn ignored him, focusing on keeping her breathing slow, but each time he adjusted his grip on her, it sped back up. She had to distract herself, something happy. Nesta smiling, Emerie laughing, male in the dark. It wasn't working, miniature pegasus, male in the dark. Baby Nyx, male in the dark. Azriel. Azriel smiling, Azriel laughing, Azriel singing, Azriel holding her, flying over Velaris, Azriel teaching her silent fighting, Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.

Gwyn surged upwards, flipping the male off, and sprinted for the axe, wrenching it out of the wood, and hurled it at her assailant, only turning back in her mad sprint for the safety of the house at his grunt of pain. He stumbled, blood seeping out through his leathers as he inspected the gash in his thigh,

"Bitch," he hissed, and Gwyn flew for the door, latching it behind her,

"Nesta! Emerie!" Gwyn screamed, backing away from the door, Nesta was the first down the stairs, "We have a problem, call Cassian now, get someone here to fetch us early, he'll break down the door soon." True to her words, a banging started on the doors, and stopped, but then intensified, oh shit, he had the axe, she'd practically given it to him, and he was going to kill them. "You have any weapons, Em?" Emerie silently shook her head,

"Only kitchen knives,"

"That'll do," Nesta muttered, "C'mon, we should be ready for when he gets in." Gwyn followed Nesta into the kitchen, quite happy to let her plan, and position them all. The banging stopped, he was in, but then there was a thump, and the door squeaked open, so it was still on its hinges,

"Nesta? Gwyn? Emerie?" Mor. Gwyn stood out of her hiding place, and Emerie ran for Mor, her wings almost knocking them both off their feet as she crashed into Mor's arms,

"Thank the gods," she muttered, "We thought we were going to have to fight him off with cutlery." Mor snorted,

"Not on my watch, let's get out of here." Emerie wrapped her arms around Mor's waist, and Nesta and Gwyn each held an arm, only letting go once they reached the House of Wind, "There's not a spare room here, there's already one in the townhouse though, I'll stay with you if you prefer, Em." Emerie smiled and nodded,

"Yeah, okay, thanks." And held on to Mor as she winnowed them away again. Gwyn had barely registered arriving before Cassian hurtled through the door, and cupped Nesta's face in his hands,

"Are you hurt? Who tried to hurt you? I'll kill him, I'll kill him." Nesta reached up to cup his face,

"I'm fine, I'm fine Cass, no-one touched me, Mor was there quickly enough." Cassian gathered her into his chest,

"I'm never leaving your side again," he muttered, kissing the top of her head, and Gwyn almost wanted to leave, but that felt more awkward,

"That's a bit dramatic," Nesta giggled,

"I mean it, sweetheart, I'm going nowhere, from now on, I get to tag along on girls night." Nesta snorted again,

"Only if you let us braid your hair."

"Deal." Gwyn's attention was drawn away by a little noise behind her, and she turned to find Azriel waiting,

"How long have you been there?" She asked, and he shrugged,

"I didn't want to startle you," Gwyn just wrapped her arms around his neck, raising herself on her tiptoes just to reach, "Are you okay?" He muttered, noting the mud all over her clothes,

"Yeah, just a bit shaken, he didn't get a chance to actually hurt me, just scared me a bit." Azriel nodded, and squeezed around her waist a little, "I panicked,” she admitted, "All the training we've been doing, and the first time I got ambushed, I panicked."

"That's okay, it's normal, you still got away, that's still great." Gwyn sighed,

"I suppose, but what if it happens again, I mean it was a male in the dark, and I just froze," tears formed in her eyes when Azriel gently tipped her chin up to look at him,

"That is normal, Gwyn. You did so, so well by realizing that you were panicking and working through it to escape, you did, I am so proud of you for that." Gwyn smiled, just a little, but it made Azriel grin at her, "Do that again."

"What?"

"Smile." She did,

"Thank you, Az." She mumbled, letting him lead her back to her rooms and draw up a bath. He stayed sat on the bed while she washed, talking gently, almost nonsense, but his voice, just his voice chased away the remaining fear, and Gwyn found that she was exhausted, and was almost asleep when she flopped into bed, barely registering when Azriel brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her brow gently before leaving her to sleep. Gwyn tried to call out his name, to ask him to stay, but he was gone, and sleep claimed her quickly.

Tired as she was, dreams plagued her sleep, dreams of faceless males, in the dark, dreams that she hadn't had in years, dreams of Catrin's face, smiling and laughing, then crying silently in fear, dreams of the younglings she had to protect before they shared her sister's fate. Her eyes flew open right as that Hybern commander's face appeared in her dreams. She stumbled to the bathroom, staring straight into the mirror.

I'm safe.

It's over.

I'm in Velaris.

I'm safe.

It's over.

I'm in Velaris.

It wasn't working, her usual calming ritual wasn't working, she couldn't calm herself down, she splashed her face with water, deep breaths, deep breaths. The bed was drenched in sweat when she returned, sweat that felt like blood, Catrin's blood, just like the nightgown clinging to her skin now. Gwyn stepped back into the bathroom, and cleaned herself up before changing into a new nightgown. When she returned to the bed, it was clean, new sheets in place,

"Thank you," she whispered, just about managing to fall asleep until a voice filled her dreams

That one's mine.

Gwyn hurled herself out of bed, she had to get out, she had to just get away, she threw the door open, a sob rising in her chest as he eyes fell on the door across from hers, as the scent from that room reached her. Male, but safe, male, but safe, male, but she didn't fear it, no, she didn't fear it, she loved it. She threw the door open, the sobs finally forcing their way out of her as she ran fro Azriel. She sobbed as she crawled onto the bed, into his arms, and buried her face in his chest,

"Az," she sobbed, and he mumbled gently to her, she couldn't quite make out the words, but his voice was calm, soothing, and she snuggled into him, "I had a nightmare," she muttered by way of an explanation, and Azriel gently stroked her hair, "About Sangravah, I was scared."

"You're safe here," he mumbled, "I'm right here, no-one can touch you, not while I'm here." She nodded and sniffed again, fear dissipating with every word he spoke, and giggling when a shadow wrapped around her,

"They're protecting me," she giggled, and gradually drifted back to sleep, nightmares held at bay as she slept this time. She was safe here, with him. Gwyn slept the whole night snuggled against Azriel's chest, safe in his arms.

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn #gwyn acosf #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara

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ov105 · 4 years ago

Text

Redeye

After some delay, and a bit of coincidence. I have reached another summit. It is only appropriate I finish this exactly on Juri’s birthday (10-3-97).

8,483 words of Takahashi Juri.

In case I don’t see you: Good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

"Last call for Flight 62, last call for Flight 62."

Damn me.

If that was what an unjust sentence sounded like, there it is. Running around Narita's terminal with a suitcase in hand and a jacket in hand as I ran to the gate. Barely cutting it to the gate, breathing a sigh of relief as I handed the ticket to the gate agent, calming myself and taking a swig of sanity back as I turned into the tube and almost found it like walking to a conference. It's all quiet until you turn at the last corner, with the flight attendants, all caked up and primly dressed, greeted me as I stepped into the plane, with everybody settling down into their seats.

Being in a first-class suite for a transpacific crossing was something I would usually never think of even when sitting in the large office chair. But here I was, a week after selection and flying off to my first international assignment in months.

"Anything you'd like to have before takeoff, sir?" A charming young flight attendant said. Breaking the silence as the ground vehicles whirred outside as they pulled away before pushback.

"A cola, please, thank you," I replied, still regaining my words as I tried to give my best PR smile to the young lady who just asked me.

To be fair, she was the prettiest looking among the flight attendants. Probably one of the shorter ones as well, judging by even how her heels didn't hide her petite frame. Another thing was that she seemed to be hiding a voluptuous body behind all those tight clothes.

The rest of the flight went on as usual, with the Triple Seven pushed back, started engines, and took us 10 minutes taxiing towards the runway. Being holed up in an airplane flying at thirty-four thousand feet, and almost being unbothered by sleepy seatmates. The opportunity that I couldn't be hijacked in my SNS accounts and watch the backlog of movies I downloaded months ago seemed the most practical choice. The in-flight entertainment wasn't bad, but I had my fish to fry.

It was only about 20 minutes after the opening credits when somebody knocked on the sliding door of the suite I was in. It fussed me, but then I had to see who it was for myself first.

"Good afternoon, what would you like to have for dinner?" said the same flight attendant that had led me to my seat just an hour and a half ago. Standing on the aisle but just speaking audible enough for me to hear. Sticking to the business script, I asked one thing.

"Is there a menu?"

She did so by her reaching into the cart, out of view from my perspective. My fingers took in the leather-bound menu and opening it. The laptop was to my right, earphones plugged in, but the display itself was connected to the screen before my seat. The attendant must've noticed it when she snuck some of her personality into my little world.

"Ah, this one gets exciting," she said, making me look to the screen and how her eyes were on it, connecting two-and-two.

"Already is, actually," I said, briefly closing the menu and looking up at the pretty egg-faced lady standing on my doorway, "You like these too?"

"Ah, yes, I think they're the best type of movies to watch," she replied. I just smiled and agreed, looking down on the menu again. However, I felt the need to put a name on the pretty face that I now just broke the ice with.

"Hey, if it isn't too rude, what's your name?" I asked, an arm out as she returned the gesture and replied.

"Juri," she managed to say, telling me that she was a bit shocked. A charming young passenger often doesn't reach out like this.

"Then, Juri, I'd like this for dinner," I said as I turned the menu facing her and pointing on the set I'd want. She wouldn't know, but that small talk I had with her made me want to get something different for that one moment. I was giving the menu back to her once she jotted it down.

"I'll see you later then, Juri," I replied with my best business smile as she had her hand on the door. She blushed slightly and returned my greeting. Closing the door as she left and found myself settling down again.

What kind of luck did I just get to do that? I thought as I pressed the spacebar and took a large swig off the cola bottle. The hours passed. The movie had entered into the third act by the time the dinner service came knocking. As expected, it was Juri who knocked on the door and gave me my meal. It was a complete surprise they had improved with the inflight meal. Though maybe it was just me being sulky and all too used to the economy class meals.

Speaking of relationships with women, it had been a while since I had one. She was just a sex freak who just wanted to fuck so she wouldn't drink herself into a hangover. Being the bearer of her incorrect way of coping with stress, I learned some despite me telling her to see a therapist. We practically fucked almost anywhere; on the beach, in the car, or the mall fitting room - you name it, I probably fucked my ex there. She also liked it when I didn't pull out, provided she ordered it, of course - something about filling a woman up just made me crave it more.

I finished supper thinking about my past, and almost entirely sexual relationship. Last I heard, my ex was slutting up to her new boyfriend too. However, I washed that over as I took another sip to seal the meal. After that, I had all the plates already taken away. I found myself a glass of liquor, with two bottles in the fridge, and pudding to eat as I binged on my laptop. I checked my watch to see it was 11:00 pm, with a small plate of what used to be the bittersweet pudding lying beside me. That was the day's meal for me, so I pressed the call button to see who'd, if there ever would, come to pick it up this time.

It was Juri.

"I see you've enjoyed your dinner," She said warmly. I often get referred to by my pronouns like it was in the office, but I let Juri slide for me.

"And I see you've been dropping the honorifics," I replied as I looked out to the night sky and took a swig.

"I-I'm sorry..," the Japanese girl stammered out, trying to look me in the eye, but looked down once I put my gaze on her. She looked dejected. Almost like she'd been caught in her tracks being too friendly to her passengers.

"It's fine, Juri. I didn't mean to sound like that. Trust me, it's alright," I said, trying to reassure her, and in my years of managing, the kinaesthetic element kicked in. Next thing I knew, my free hand was tapping on her right wrist.

Looking up, I saw Juri was very much surprised at the sudden contact. I shared the same sentiment, my fingers abruptly letting go of her as I retracted it, rubbed my hands together, and took a swig from the glass to try and distract myself from how awkward every second was at that moment.

"Sorry for that," I said as I fussed on my seat, clearly trying to distance myself as much as possible from the flight attendant, remembering the professional boundary between us.

"It's okay," Juri replied. Feeling a hand tap my left shoulder while I looked away. I laid my hand on hers and just nodded. I told her that it was okay, though I did find it awkward.

"I mean come on, I'm not trying to come off as awkward," she began, "I'm assuming we're just the same age, right? Besides, we don't have the purser now. She won't be awake until morning." Juri finished. A purser would be the head flight attendant, so I assumed it was a more youthful cabin crew for the red-eye.

"Hey, it's just us 20 somethings right here," She began, a million scenarios and a million tons of doubt formed in my head as my eyebrow raised a bit. She either wanted to swindle or be true to me.

"Don't tell me you've done this before and scammed the first-class passengers. I'm not falling for it," I shot back, my executive in play. Juri was shocked by the stand-off tone I dropped that in.

"But okay, continue."

"I'm not scamming you... can't I just watch a movie with you?" She managed to stammer out, clearly trying to get around my authoritative tone. I've done my fair bit of asking and being asked out by girls as far back as middle school, and being in that generation, if it wasn't a convenience store, and there was nothing big due tomorrow, it was always the movies. I just gulped down - I wasn't expecting it inside an airliner. I moved her aside and peered my head out, checking if somebody may come in.

"You sure nobody will suspect you here?" I asked.

"Not a soul," Juri replied.

I took her by hand and pulled her in, making sure she put her shoes inside to hide. It was a much smaller space than I had imagined, the dainty Japanese lady only having enough room with both of us inside. I moved a bit to make some space, but that wasn't her idea. She unbuttoned her jacket and hung it on the door rack, besides mine. She was crawling up beside me just as the episode started. She laid next to me, now putting into perspective how short she was. But it was not helping me keep away as she crossed her arms, her strapless dark colored bra made her tits bunched up, looking large and soft under the white cloth.

I may have attempted to brush it aside because the movie we were watching was the only one with a gratuitous sex scene in the entire trilogy. I had it spoiled to me by a friend of mine months before when it was the talk of the town and how everybody got their tissue after the credits rolled.

During the beginning of the sex scene, I noticed she was glancing at me, catching her eyeing me and looking away, keeping to herself. I still looked straight ahead, trying not to think about the tight circumstances we were into.

"You're thinking of something?" I asked, alluding to the obvious.

"Maybe I am." Juri replied - What the fuck.

I looked at her, and before I knew it, Juri was glancing at my lips, and her hand was below my cheek. Pushing down at her as our lips met, with her moving forward as a simple kiss became a lustful one. The sound of smooching lips soon being replaced by our tongues as I gently pushed her down. Soft hands were moving from my cheeks, past my neck, and onto my collar, feeling her unbutton my shirt as I kissed her deeper. Feeling her soft body up through the fabric like it was dough, hearing her moan ever so slightly while my fingers danced up and squeezed her dainty, yet fleshy frame.

"Relax, it's not like they'll come looking for me," Juri said as my hand got closer to her chest, now exposed from her playful fingers.

"You've already said that I've just been thinking about this since I saw it," I said as I pressed down the third button on her shirt and popped it open, quickly moving up to the second and doing the same. Juri kept looking at me with those tempting dark brown eyes that told me to slip myself in as her hands pulled me closer. Feeling my way through the crevice and feeling that soft, milky skin, then traveling up to the hem of her bra. Smiling a bit like I just found treasure, before I slipped from below and heard her moan when she felt my fingers brush her nipples.

Stopping a bit as she felt my fingers wrap around her tits, she removed one hand around my cheek and wrapped it around my left forearm and pushed it forward, as if to squeeze her tits. I bit my lip at the feeling of the soft flesh, rightfully firm but just as fluffy as I made them out to be. I kissed Juri again to try and suppress her moans, which grew louder the harder I squeezed. I decided that her bra wasn't helping and slipped my hand out, finding my way up and making quick work of the first, then the last button.

"Let's just get rid of everything," I said as I straightened my back and removed my shirt. Juri was mirroring me as she took hers off. But before she could reach for her bra, my hands slipped under her and moved ourselves to sit against the cabin wall. Now, Juri was sitting on me, her thighs providing enough cushion that it felt warm as her weight sat on me.

"You're quick," Juri said, talking about how we were watching one moment, and now, she was sitting, half-undressed on me.

I just continued kissing her, now biting on her lip as our bodies warmed up, both in heat and atop one another. Slipping my hand up her back and inside her bra, unclipping it and hearing her lightly gasp as it came off. Her hands quickly moved to ease herself out, looking like a Greek maiden as she moved temptingly, watching it fall to the pillow before both of our eyes met. Juri then kept an iron gaze now, but I could tell she was just trying not to be shy. She just felt completely naked.

With a glance on my lips, she moved forward and then had us making out again, sliding my hand up and below her tits, forming a handful and cupping one of her, then lightly squeezing the soft flesh and hearing the slightest hint of a moan as she kissed deeper. I just squeezed harder, my other thumb moving up to flick her nipple. Juri's hands were closing tighter around my neck, almost as if she was trying to deny me her tits for the moment. Moving my tongue against hers now, we've become sloppy, the sound of our lips kissing while our tongues spoke for us made me careless to how precarious our situation was. I could even sense her warmth when she grinded herself a bit.

"You practiced?" I asked, being surprised she was such a pretty kisser.

"Must be the adult films," Juri replied as she blushed a little, myself chuckling as she avoided my gaze.

Seeing her guard down, I dived down to her tits. Quickly licking her nipple and wrapping my mouth around it, tugging as I rounded my tongue, the little bud. Juri bit her lip and moaned behind it, her hand wrapping around my neck to push me closer. I kept attacking that single nipple for what seemed to be forever. It was almost like I had missed having sex.

Juri was bearing the brunt of that gated lust as I felt her stick herself ever closer to me. Almost like she was forcing her weight against the wall, My suckling lips and lashing tongue sandwiched between it. I can feel her shudder when I flicked my tongue hard against her nipple, pinching the other between my thumb and index finger. A few times, sucking the soft flesh and tugging it forward, almost making Juri yell as it had overwhelmed her, and giving us away.

She gave a bit more before pulling back, watching as her nipples became coated with my saliva. Juri herself looked much different from how she did just earlier, her lips wet from how many times she bit and slid her tongue across them, her hair already somewhat messy from when I laid her down. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact she was so close to me now.

"Still don't want me to-"I said before being cut off.

"-to eat me out? Be my guest." Juri said as she slipped back from me, her hands traveling down her body and into the hem of her skirt, pushing them down and past her thick, stubby legs. She was taking her panties with that tight dress that had covered her ass for so long. Her pussy was shaved and hidden between those smooth thighs.

Admittedly, I was not too fond of that bold tone. Then I'd instead make Juri yell when I'm eating her out.

Pushing her off, she took the cue and slid a pillow under her head. Sliding her skirt up and showing me the bow of her panties. I slid my hands up her soft thighs, hooked her by the hem, and pulled it down, almost like I was forcing it off of her. Once I had it out of the way, I hovered over her, my shadow above, slipping my hand between her thighs, quickly sliding my finger against her folds, placing two and rubbing again, pulling it up to see my fingertips glistening, looking at her as if she failed me.

"So much for being daring," I stated, taking control of our situation back to me.

Stepping back on my knees, Juri lifted herself against the wall, just giving me enough space to still be on the bed. Then pulled her back slightly as I put my hands behind her knees and pushed them up, before wrapping my hands around her thighs and almost leaped headfirst into her. She then had a hard time keeping quiet at the sudden warmth that jolted from inside her. Her body jerked at once as I licked her clit. Excitedly smiling, I repeated it. She bit down on her lip as she moaned at the quick, electrifying pressure that came from her. Hands-on my hair as her head dropped to one side and gritted her teeth. She wasn't expecting me to go this fast.

I quickly turned it up to eleven by engulfing her clit in my mouth, licking away at it. Juri put her fingers around her mouth, hearing her muffled whimpers and moans as her hips rolled. Grabbing her tits and squeezing them just tripled her pleasure as she shook at the relentless pressure on her clit. Looking up to see her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly got a hold of herself and her moans. Her legs closed in, as if she didn't want me to pull back.

Slowing down for Juri a bit, I move down and begin licking her folds, feeling some of her juices right on my palate as I coursed my tongue upwards just below her clit. Closing my eyes and focusing solely on how my tongue glided into her entrance, almost like prodding a cave. Hearing her muffled moans ever so often as her hand slowly came back around my nape and pulled me closer, with her pushing herself slightly against me. Making her weak when I suckled around her clit, as if I was kissing it. Bucking her hips every so often as breathless moans left the petite flight attendant under my mercy.

"You go any faster, I'd have to replace the sheets," Juri warned as I lifted off her, catching my breath.

"Come on. It's not like I'm going to make you sleep in here, you know," I replied, slowly sliding my hand into position before her pussy, my two fingers looking like two Sidewinders poised to enter. Her folds moist but pristine, a sure sign of her innocence.

"Besides, it shouldn't be that hard for us to replace, right?" I continued, just as she must've felt her nerves sliding against my fingers. Averting my gaze as I pushed two in, making Juri gasp and bite her lip, hands holding on to the sheets when I combined it with my tongue on her clit. Pressing my fingers made her hips buck again, cutting out the work of having to crane my neck down as Juri ever slowly pushed herself against the wall, her petite frame playing into an advantage for me. She can't keep backing off forever, having to fall prey to my fingers inside her and my tongue as often.

I dove back down onto her. Focused on the split flesh that had both of my fingers stuck inside it, pushing it deep as I pouted my lips out to meet her clit. Giving it a while as I fingered Juri and listened to her try and stifle her moans. Her hands were sliding back around my neck and pushing me into her. Me pressing my fingers upward while looking for her spot, pressing when she moaned the loudest, knowing I had found her spot as Juri writhed, feeling the soft skin rub ever so often against my sides.

I guess with how thick Juri is. She bore her shaking better. Feeling her slightly jolt and rock as she hummed and moaned. The whole burning sensation came down to her thighs as she slowly closed them around me, pleading for me to go faster as I intensified the pressure against her. Making Juri slowly put her head back against the bulkhead, barely maintaining awareness whether or not some other passenger was in the suite behind us. Looking up after a bit, Juri saw my lip, all wet from my saliva, and of course, her juices.

"I told you I'd have to change the sheets," Juri replied, tsk tsk, as she put her fingers under my chin, "Plus, your lips are dirty," she continued as she wiped her thumb over my lower lip, "You've got such a good tongue," she finished with a compliment as she licked her thumb.

"We're pretty much in a rush."

"What do you mean?" I said, an eyebrow raised.

"How about you let me play with you?" Juri replied. How aggressive of her. I just chuckled before moving forward to kiss her. Both of us moved back with Juri's hand hooked on my belt the moment I was on my knees. Looking up at me as she pulled, it was an unwritten signal to stop before averting her gaze downward and undoing the belt, making quick work of me as I suddenly felt cold, now being more than just half-naked.

Juri didn't say anything, apart from that sly smile once she saw what she had to play with. Quickly grabbing hold of me as her fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking it, and just as I was quick to get down on her clit, her tongue was already making circles around my head. Sending chills up my spine as she rounded it one, two, three times. Before she pulled back and let me sit down, my legs apart and Juri coming close, she said.

"Been a while for me, but I'll try and be quick," Juri said.

Without using her hands this time as she bowed her head down as her neck craned forward, turned a bit to the side as a glint of breath brushed over the head. Her lips captured me quickly as her mouth formed around my tip, pushing herself down as the warmth of her tongue slid under it. Though she did prefer to wrap her lips around the head, making circles around it until I was hard enough before she went down on my shaft.

She took a few inches of me and bobbed her head around the shaft, being more used to quick, flame-like licks of her tongue flashing up against my head. Perhaps she wasn't one for deepthroating or getting too dirty now. She just teased a lick before taking half of me in, her cheeks hollowing out as she pulled back.

I let out a long, low exhale as she took me in slowly. Taking a few inches in and back, and settling at that pace, looking up at me as I had my hands balled up in fists and holding back moans as Juri had her way with me. She popped off and giggled a bit at my seeming misfortune before wrapping her lips around me again and pulling me back in as her tongue danced around my tip.

She must've guessed me correctly, seeing her eyes glance and feel that my thighs shook and felt limp whether she hit that spot. Juri had seen through me, going deep down my length, then lingering around it before dropping her neck down again. I felt her throat constrict as it reached the end of her mouth, making her pull back and lightly gasp.

"Fuck, that was a surprise," Juri said, breaking the tension a little as she stuck her tongue out and made rounds with my cock. Before long, she was going as deep as she could, making me hit the back of her mouth, coupled with how she moved her tongue and cheek around me. It was an exercise of patience by itself. She bobbed down five more times before she couldn't hold herself back any longer.

"Don't you just wanna fuck me now?" The Japanese stewardess shot at me. I just beckoned her to come closer as she turned around and showed her ass to me. She sat down with her legs folded back, bending over just a bit to display her plump ass and lips that were begging to be parted. Pulling her back to me, Juri wipes her lips on her wrists before whispering to me,

"Don't hold back. I wanna feel you."

Feeling my cock poke against her entrance. I pull both of us back a bit in a position where I could enter my whole length without a problem. She held her ass open, now seeing how truly plump they were, my gaze moving up from her pristine back to see her anticipating stare. Our instincts took over as she pushed back against me, without using our hands, my cock nestled in between her lips. She moaned, biting her lip as she felt it poking against her entrance. Sliding it as I felt the tip become wet, and my impatience greater as Juri smiled a bit between her small moans.

Suddenly, Juri sat down on me. My cock hardening as it broke through her folds and instantly filled her up. Her walls immediately squeezed as her ass smacked against my groin. Making me throb and throw my head back at the sudden tightness, with her prior orgasm having made her slick. Juri let out a shrill cry, biting her lip as her brain blanked out, reducing both of us to a whimper as she looked back at me, eyebrows furrowed and lip on her teeth. I would've paid greatly to see that. Very much proud of her handiwork as I looked, and was completely vulnerable, my elbows almost failing me as her grip scalded my shaft. Even then, I was beaten to the punch as the feeling in my groin shut me up, weak at first penetration.

"Fuck, I feel so full right now. That kinda hurt," Juri said, almost as if she enjoyed that tinge of such girth surprising her. Her pussy was still squeezing, making her whimper as she began to ride me, her grip unbelievably tight, both of us feeling each other up with my dick snugly being strangled inside her. I was gritting my teeth together, my head throwing back when she rose to the tip and sunk.

She put her hands behind her back, laying them on my thighs as she supported herself, keeping her back as straight as she could as her ass slowly picked up the pace. Going slowly as she was trying to feel me first, watching her face as it turned sideways, seeing her trying not to lose it as my cock speared into her. Feeling her squeeze, with myself throbbing while her pussy lubricated my shaft, seeing it becoming wetter and wetter as her pace relaxed.

"I'm going to take a while getting used to this," Juri said as she went halfway up and began to fuck herself on my cock. Beginning to moan as discreetly as she could as she made a metronome for herself, taking it neither too fast nor too slowly. My cock is enjoying every single bit of the tightest pussy and the plumpest ass I've had. Her mouth stuck open as her moans became a bit of a mess. Still not wanting to moan loudly despite our suite being soundproof.

"If you want to be loud and ride me. Ride me," I ordered. Seeing her stop as she smiled a bit.

Turning her pace up a bit as her moans picked up, sounding like a sweet schoolgirl just as I had thought. Hearing her begin to call out my name and swear to herself in between as she felt herself become so full. I began to feel my toes tiring out from curling so much because of the pleasure she gave to my cock, having never felt this rock hard fucking a woman. Because of that, she was becoming horny enough to go fast with how hard I was, with myself beginning to moan. Almost wanting to take her by the hips and fuck her rough. But I thought it would be a waste to ruin the meal.

"You like that?" I asked as she seemed to get comfortable with her pace, making her snap out of her moaning a bit and breaking her stride.

Juri just nodded through her whimpers. I damn well knew then her stride wasn't going to stop. She's determined to make me feel her at her tightest as she grew slicker as the seconds ticked by. Feeling her constrict ever so often when my cock slid up against her walls, seeing her toes curl in tune with her walls. She wanted to cum on me. She whimpered and shook, her pace increasing immensely as her confidence grew out of that shell.

I've had one night stands with girls before. Often talking about the most mundane things you could think of, with every last one of them pinning me against the door as soon as I closed it. They missed and didn't dare ask what I wanted the most, to take it slow. Yes, it's a bit of a stretch to say Juri rushed me, yet she took her time to know at least a tiny bit of myself, aside from the cock that's inside her, that is. I just thought about it to distract myself. My eyes shut a bit to take in that choking tightness and those sweet little moans that left her mouth.

Juri then squeezed, leaned forward with her hands down on the bed. Showing even more of our connection as my cock nicely parted her folds open. Juri then pushed back and didn't stop until she hit my groin, herself moaning at the depth. I only followed when she squeezed, pulled, and went back, almost like my cock was getting sucked as her walls formed around it. She gradually picked up her pace, her ass beginning to bounce as it hit me, with her beginning to groan and whimper as she got to speed. I didn't notice she was becoming tighter and tighter by the second as she straightened her back and kept her pace.

She looked back at me with that look in her eyes as she put her hands back and braced on my knees, her strokes becoming shorter, all while I was deep inside her. She wanted to fuck herself hard and didn't want me to. She wanted to use me to make herself cum as hard as she could. I was feeling myself throb ever so slightly, but while I enjoyed the view of the plump girl, with her ass bouncing, and me spearing into her. I was far from my release, having done my fair share of trying to be beaten to it. Often, girls rushing themselves too much and dragging me, but not Juri. I genuinely enjoyed her.

Though I wanted to have a piece of the pie myself, despite being deep inside it already. I grabbed Juri's hips, my cock slipping out as I pulled my legs back and stood on my knees. Not giving her a second to react as she looked back with furrowed eyes, visibly annoyed as her hip suddenly felt empty. I pulled her arms up to me, and soon she was facing me. Her pretty egg-shaped face with her messy hair a far cry from her prim and proper look earlier, pecking forward to kiss her. As our lips broke away, I glanced down to see my cock wetter than ever before, then slipping it inside her walls. I gave myself a taste of doing it as I felt that tight sensation all over again.

Quickly giving it to Juri with the short thrusts she was doing to me, but I had penetrated deeper this time around. Turning her annoyance to moans and whimpers as she tried suppressing herself. I could feel her shaking even more now, her tightness making me throb while I grazed over her spot. She was due.

"Do you like me that much?" Juri asked, out of breath. I gave her another kiss.

"What do you think?" I asked back, "You were gonna cum, weren't you?" I added. She just smiled and gave me another kiss - yes.

My grip on her hips tightened, and on a rampaging pace, I went, unpredictable, fast thrusts that made Juri lose composure and drop down on the sheets. One moment I went short, and another I was deep in her. Thinking of fucking her just enough to push her over. Biting my lip as I saw myself going fast inside Juri. My groin smacked her ass as it rippled, and I felt that familiar weight beginning to tease me. Having Juri entirely at my mercy as she dropped her head down. Myself wanting to give it to her as I fucked her like an animal, one who slowly had me wrapped around her loins,

"I'm... I'm gonna cum!" Juri cried out between whimpers before grabbing a fistful of bedsheet in her mouth. Her hands clutched at the sheets, threatening to tear it as she held on. She tightened while I took the cue and dialed down. Moaning aloud as she tightened some more and completely squeezed me as she shook. Her legs were almost closing as she ebbed, backing up against me and sliding my whole length in her. She threw her head back as she felt the entire length of it mid-orgasm. That sudden, final grip made me groan as I did my best to hold back as she rolled her hips back against me. I tried my best to take the pleasure head-on as Juri let her juices out despite the grip she had on me. Finally, she let me hear her as she let go of the cloth in her mouth, her final moans making her breathless as she piped down. Giving her a bit before I pulled out of her, a wet shaft greeted me, with a few of her juices dripping down like honey as I glided my ass over soft, shapely ass. I slid my hand under her and leaned in.

"How was that?" I asked. Juri ran her hands through her hair, clearing her face, responding to me with a kiss.

"Never came that hard before with a guy," Juri replied, inches away from my face.

"Next time, I'm taking you with me," Juri said, both as a warning and as a dare for me to give it to her again.

"I'll remember that," I replied with confidence, chuckled, and put my lips on hers again. She then rolled over, and I lied down, now facing the in-flight TV as Juri blocked the view, being the better one of either. Taking my cock and pushing it against her lips. She moved and slid her lips over it, exploiting how wet they already were as she slid over my dick, teasing herself a bit, walls dripping wet on the underside—lubing it before she stopped and pushed it against her entrance—bucking her hips backward as I watched it disappear back into her.

"Fuck."

That's what came out of our mouths after I stung back inside Juri. She was much tighter, much slicker, and far better than before. I looked up at the ceiling as my cock throbbed a few times as she went. Biting her lip as she came down the entire length of my cock down to the base, squeezing a bit as she exhaled, giving me that look that she wasn't expecting me to slide so easily. Putting her hands on my chest as she propped her legs down and pulled herself up. Leaving herself on the tip before slamming herself down again, her whole upper body arching back. Taking my chances as she pushed up again, I sat upright, much to her surprise. My lips made a beeline to her tits as she just gazed at me in surprise. Quickly wrapping them and my tongue darting out as I sucked and tugged on her right tit, making her slow down a bit as she whimpered.

"Don't you want me to make you feel good?" Juri said as she pulled me away from her. Seemingly oblivious to how amazing she felt, even more so now.

"You already are," I replied as I moved to her other tit. Juri took the cue and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and began riding at the perfect pace. Both of us let out sounds of our pleasure over each other's bodies as she did so. I held the stewardess tight in my embrace as she rolled her hips on me. My entire groin felt warm as her juices trickled down from her pussy while my shaft tightly speared inside of her, stirring ourselves for another orgasm.

Rolling and bucking her hips forward and back, in an exchange of slippery kisses and lustful glances. I found myself tugging on her nipples before finding myself on her lips again. Both places being just as right for me, being the beautiful woman she was. Hearing her small whimpers and weak moans as she rode me lovingly, our faces were inches away from one another, sometimes our foreheads together before I went down the sides of her neck, the smooth, milky surfaces all a pleasure to kiss while she rode my cock.

"You're the first guy to do that," Juri said after I went up to her neck.

"You like it?" I asked, being a party trick I had learned from watching too many Western sitcoms in my youth.

"It's gonna take a while, but yeah, I like it," she shyly replied. It was just apt, I suppose, with how pretty and smooth her neck was, much more the face it held up. She said, slowing herself down now in slow, deep thrusts, being more confident of herself now to slowly roll over me as she put her hands on my chest and pushed me down, keeping her gaze at me all the while. Her hands on my stomach, groaning as that all too well feeling struck me, reminding me as I throbbed in her while that weight built up. It was a scale getting ever more fragile.

With such finesse, I had a full view of Juri's body in the middle of it all. Her hair was a mess, made messier as she ran her fingers through it, and her face a bit tired like mine. Her soft, milky skin on my fingertips as I traced up from her full thighs, sat against me, to her hips that moved and squeezed around me, past her tummy, all that fat and muscle provided more than enough to hold onto as I was deep inside her. Then up to her breasts as my hands squeezed around them, grabbing the soft mounds of flesh as I felt myself throb in her. We were in that state for a while, the way Juri moved teasing me to either an orgasm as I throbbed ever so often. I was thinking of folding my legs up and charging it home, but I had to do something different.

"You want me to fuck you?" I asked as she stopped and leaned in, her breath ragged as she gave her strength up fucking me instead.

"I like that idea," Juri replied, forgetting she'd been doing almost everything since earlier.

"Good. I like fucking you from behind."

"You don't want to face me?" Juri replied. Thinking I made her feel bad. Wanting to make up for that slight error, I put my hand around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss.

"Hey, don't you wanna do this again sometime, when we have all the time?" I replied as I seemingly invited her to where I stayed.

"Well, I got all the time off after this, you?" She asked.

"I'll try finishing everything by tomorrow. Then you can come with me."

"Sounds like a plan," Juri replied as she crashed her lips hard on me. Reversing back against me as she reminded me - I was still inside her. Both of us moaning through our liplock as she slowly went back and forth on me before, before rising to a quick gallop that nearly tempted fate as she rocked me with her hips, and by extension, the bed. Before letting me go with a pop, a slick, sensitive mess.

Juri remained on the bed, myself going around and pulling her further back to the edge of the bed. She just looked at me as she adjusted, with her legs closed and her pussy all for show. Placing a knee up with my leg extended down to the floor, with no hands to guide myself in as my tip homed in between her pussy lips, sliding it up and down carefully before pushing it in. Both of our gazes went straight ahead as I pushed deep into Juri. Pulling back a bit as she was much tighter with her legs closed, and all that slickness helping to suck me in, I couldn't deny I felt myself begin leaking a bit of precum then.

"You should've closed your legs before," I remarked.

"I know, fuck. It feels so good," Juri replied, letting out a long moan as I pushed back in again. With my hands on her hips and weight pushing her down, I quickly built up my pace, intending to make her pronebone. She let out all sorts of moans as gravity took its course. Not long after, I was kneeling on the bed, with her ass flared up, pulling her against me while I pushed against her. She looked back at me with a look of absolute pleasure as I kept running over her spot. Her squeezing at me as I throbbed inside her made me know it for both of us. I was close.

Then, I was struck with the pleasure of it all. A supposedly ordinary flight, and now I'm inside one of the thicker women I've ever laid with, her moans and cries of pleasure, finding my name in then as she locked my cock in between her legs. Feeling light-headed for a second as she squeezed on me, moaning as it surged up my veins and hit me like a pitch. Taking it as a signal to go deeper, Juri clawed back on to the sheets as I fucked her, digging my knees and pushing all I had and gave it to her, the fastest I could without essentially doing her too roughly. With how loud she returned that pleasure, it was a blessing the walls were soundproofed. As I fucked her faster and dangerously tread that scale as I mind split itself whether to cum inside her now, or last as long as I could until we both came.

I chose the latter.

I slammed deep into Juri, earning a moan from her, tapped her to open her legs, and leaned in, moving her hair aside, noticing the thin sheen of sweat before kissing her nape as my hands moved down and squeezed her tits, going slow and deep as my lips moved to her earlobes.

"I think I'm close."

Her head turned to face me, near breathless, our lips meeting each other before she said it.

"Cum in me"

I only replied with a peck on her lips as I pulled her back up. Now both of us only on our knees, and whosoever our hands found to hold, with Juri's dark brown eyes right onto mine, both of us knew full well that we were at the pearly gates. There were no more words to be said. She just whispered something in my ear before our tongues were deep in each other again. Beginning to thrust as I plunged deep every time inside Juri, herself returning the favor by pushing against me, essentially the perfect combination. The girth of my cock being sucked back in by her tight folds, that same tightness having never left from her lips, it was heavenly, and euphoric as she got slicker throughout. The feeling of her toned thickness on top of it all driving me on, going faster to a point where her cries of pleasure more or less began to echo throughout the room, prompting me to cover her with my hand as I laid my head on her shoulders, giving shy kisses to her shoulder. At the same time, I felt the weight beginning to take me over, that familiar tingle on me almost making me slip. I forced myself to go faster, deeper into her. Her moans now clawing down as her grip on my hands held on for dear life. She had wanted me to do her dirty with that gaze.

Juri began pulsating, me having fucked her hard enough to grant her one final orgasm. Feeling her body convulse as it shook against me, both of us letting out a groan as I began to crack against her. Her cum began to trickle down, with my cock parting, piercing between her flesh, it became too much to bear. I had flown too close to the sun.

The first, thick shots of cum left me with a groan. Juri let out a whimper as our orgasms matched in intensity. Both of us shook as we held each other tightly, barely being able to control ourselves as we hurtled over the edge. I found myself throbbing painfully in her walls as our juices mixed. Having her milk every last drop of me as I forced the last of my strength to keep fucking her throughout. She took me all in stride, her thick body bearing my brunt, slowing down eventually as I felt that sappy mess of lustful fluids pooled inside Juri. Both of us were barely able to keep standing on our knees as our lips found each other in a deep kiss. I held her as tight as I could as my hands moved down her body as my throbbing died out. Our grips became weak as humanity caught up to us.

"Fuck, I shook a lot, didn't I?" She said, dismissing herself.

"That just means you made us cum a bit too hard," I replied.

"I guess I have something to look forward to then?" She asked, still thinking of earlier.

Safe to say, I had just experienced euphoria. I didn't want to hold my peace forever for Juri.

"Be my guest."

Juri ran a hand up my cheek, then kissed me there. Probably as a thank you for giving her such a pleasure, she was returning for when I kissed her immediately. I had too many things to be thankful for by then.

Juri then pushed herself off, quickly reaching for the tissue as my cum began to leak out. It looked deceptively more as we came simultaneously, almost at the expense of the tissue box as I looked and saw the creases, the dampness of the bed from two impatient lovers who earlier, just played on it.

Juri just laughed at how much she had to get off from inside her, admitting then that she had never shaken that hard when she came. Me replying that I hadn't in a very long while, that's for sure. Both of us were boiling it down to just the perfect match as I reached over to the fridge and pulled out a drink for us both, a mere attempt to quench out human spirits amongst the many kisses that we shared as we talked amongst ourselves and dressed up. Juri spent a lot of time merely redoing her hair and hiding the creases of her shirt, spending another hour talking about the movie we had just missed because we had sex. At least, both of us didn't feel too old as we talked. I then had her lie down on my arm as I put it back on, skipping over the sex scene to avoid a repeat.

It took me until the credits to notice myself near the oblivion of sleep that my muse had already slept. She looked just as perfect as she did earlier that day, not knowing what she would become in a beautiful chain of fortunate events. I could neither tell if it was a one night stand or the stars lining up by then. Knowing that she had to go back out, I nudged her awake. I saw a slight frown on her face as she rubbed her eyes, knowing what she had to do.

"We wouldn't have to do this in LA. I could wake up beside you there instead," Juri said as she leaned in for one final kiss.

I then opened the door for her, feeling a bit sorry that she had to leave for the crew quarters at the plane's back. I knew, however, we were looking forward to seeing each other after today, and every single day to come after. Both of us laughing as I saw her off, giving me one last goodnight kiss as the petite Japanese lady, named Takahashi Juri, walked off into the night with my heart in hand.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #takahashi juri #juri takahashi #akb48 #akb48 team 8 #rocket punch #mxf #kpopsmut

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years ago

Text

i just wanna be with you

ole miss rafe x reader

freak snowstorm in your hometown keeps you trapped in the airport

future fic!!!

(warnings: cursing, no editing)

It hardly ever snowed in your hometown, like you couldn’t even remember the last time there was a white Christmas, you were that young. So of course, the year you and Rafe decided to fly there for Christmas, it snowed. Hard.

The flight was early on Christmas Day, you and Rafe left your apartment at 3 a.m. to get to the Jackson airport and through the busy airport for your flight at 6:30. He made the coffee and you loaded the car, both sleepy.

Rafe picked the music, playing his hype playlist softly to stay awake while you dozed in and out of sleep in the passenger seat. There was no one on the road until you got closer to the airport.

“Babe,” he called out softly, “almost there.”

You picked your head up and saw the parking garages coming up in the distance, so you sat up and started putting your shoes back on and gathering your stuff. When he parked and got a tag, you followed after him carrying your duffle bag in one hand, his hand clasped in your other.

He’d made good time, and the airport was still fairly quiet. Your gate was far from the entrance you’d parked near, so the two of you speedwalked, still sipping the to-go cups of coffee Rafe made at home.

You’d just made it to security when you drank the last bit, and both of you threw the cups away before walking through. They let you through pretty quickly, and you were back on your way, this time him carrying both duffle bags while you handled the booksacks.

“You know,” Rafe spoke for the first time since getting out of the car, “I haven’t been at an airport in years.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I thought your family was rich. Even with a private plane you need an airport right?”

“Ward has an airstrip.”

“Holy shit.”

He laughed humorlessly, “Yeah.”

“Well, my parents usually drive, but I kinda hate it. I’d much rather just fly.”

“How long is the drive?” he asked.

“Seven hours.”

“Jesus Christ,” he whistled lowly, “they drive it every time?”

“My father prefers it.”

Rafe snorted, “Not for me.”

“Me neither.”

By the time the two of you reached your gate, there were a few people sitting around, phones and laptops plugged into various outlets. Rafe glanced around before finding two chairs alone and nodded, “Wanna sit over there?”

“Sure.”

He led you over and you leaned onto his shoulder. You could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Gonna take a nap?”

“Maybe.”

“You have about 45 minutes until it’s time to go.”

“Wake me up in 30,” you mumbled, breathing evening out.

It couldn’t have been 30 minutes when he shook you awake. Blinking at him, confused, glanced at your watch. He was frowning, “Flight’s delayed.”

“Huh?”

“It’s snowing at the other airport pretty bad. And it’s supposed to be just as bad when we land.”

“Did they say when we could go?”

“It’s supposed to clear up after like an hour and a half or so.”

“So we’re delayed that long?”

He sighed and nodded, “I’m afraid so, sorry sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, nothing we can do. I’ll call my mom.”

Rafe frowned, “Want me to? Since it’s technically my fault.”

“What? You control the weather now? Kinda sick.”

“No,” he laughed softly, “we had to wait so long so that I could finish at work.”

“Rafe, there literally hasn’t been snow there in years. There was no way you could’ve predicted this, surely you don’t actually think you’re at fault.”

With an embarrassed shrug, you realized that he actually did. Before you could say anything, he told you, “You were ready to leave like a week ago. You should’ve just gone.”

“To leave you to fly alone when I know you don’t like it the most.”

“I’m a big boy.”

“I know,” you sassed, “but I want to be there for you.”

“Well,” he paused, “you are. And I’m sorry this isn’t working out.”

You shrugged, “Shit happens. Guess it isn’t meant to be.”

He suddenly looked determined, “It is. We’ll get there even if we have to change flights and rent a car and drive.”

“Babe, neither of us knows how to drive in snow,” you reminded him with a laugh.

“We’ll figure it out,” he told you, standing to go to the ticket counter. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back with a laugh.

“I promise it’s okay. Even if we spend most of Christmas at this stupid airport, at least I’m spending it with you.”

“That’s,” he sighed, “like I’m glad you aren’t mad at me, but that’s not fair to you.”

“To us,” you corrected, “you’re also missing Christmas with your family.”

Rafe’s eyes widened and his lips pressed together. You weren’t entirely sure what emotions were crossing his face, but they looked good. Complicated, but positive.

You let him work through it quietly, holding his hand, and eventually, he spoke up, “I guess you’re right.”

“No need to guess,” you told him cheerfully, dialing your mom’s number. She didn’t answer.

There was no progress an hour later, and you were starting to wake up finally. Rafe, on the other hand, was fading fast. His head kept drooping, falling onto your shoulder before jerking back up.

You reached up to run a hand through his hair and he pushed into it. With a smile, you scratched his scalp and he sighed quietly, eyes shutting fully. Finals week and grading had tired your poor boyfriend out completely, so you deep down hoped the flight would stay delayed so he could get some sleep.

He slept for an hour and a half, no progress made, though the gate across from you had emptied and filled twice in the time yours had stayed packed. There were people stretched out across the floor, and the flight attendants were even starting to look a little squirmy.

Rafe jolted up, forehead clipping your chin, and hissed, rubbing over his forehead with a confused look on his face. You laughed, holding your chin, “Good morning, handsome.”

“Hey,” he answered, smiling sleepily.

“How was your nap?”

With a hum, he answered, “Good. What time is it?”

“9:00.”

His eyebrows shot up, “And we’re still not on a plane, huh?”

“We are not. Are you hungry?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his chin, “a little bit, yeah.”

“There’s a sandwich place a little bit down. If you’ll save seats I’ll go grab us each one?”

Rafe nodded and reached for his back pocket to get his wallet. You waved it away and he frowned, “Why not?”

“I can pay.”

“But I want to pay,” he argued.

Rolling your eyes, you bent down and kissed his forehead, “Let it be part of your Christmas gift.” And before he could answer, you were gone. The stand had breakfast sandwiches and coffee, so you bought two of each.

Rafe had stretched out when you left, his legs taking up your seat so no one would sit down. You snorted and he grinned, “Saved your seat.”

“You couldn’t have just put my booksack on it?”

“Someone could move the booksack, moving my legs is a lot more difficult.”

You hummed, playing along, “They are pretty hairy, I wouldn’t touch them either.”

Rafe smirked, “You sure about that?”

Shoving the sandwich in his face, you nudged his legs away and sat back down. Rafe took it and one of the coffees. The two of you started eating in silence until he made a noise to get your attention, “Did your mom ever call you back?”

“Nope,” you popped the p.

“So she thinks we’re in the air right now?”

“Most likely.”

“Rough. Hopefully she hears my message before dad drives to the airport to pick us up.”

Another hour passed, and your mom answered finally. She sounded frustrated, and you felt bad, but there wasn’t much you could do. Rafe also felt bad, he’d gone kinda quiet, and you felt extra bad.

“It’s going to be fine,” you reassured, squeezing his hand.

“We still have a four hour flight, babe.”

“Yeah, but we’re going back, it’s only like 8 there, so it’ll be fine!”

Rafe unclenched his jaw, “I guess you’re right.”

You shook your head, “What’s up with all this guessing today?”

He snorted, and pushed your head away, “Yeah yeah, leave me alone.”

Right as you started to respond, a very relieved-sounding flight attendant announced that the plane was ready to board. Rafe hopped up and held his hand out to help you up. He grabbed both of your bags, “If you go throw the trash away, I’ll go get in line.”

Texting your mom that the plane was finally boarding, you threw the cups and wrappers away before joining Rafe in line. Even when the plane was full, they still didn’t have a takeoff time, so you settled in, looking out the window next to you.

Rafe sighed and you turned, “What’s up now?”

“This is all going wrong.”

“I mean it’s not that big of a deal.”

Shutting his eyes, he told you, “It is. I had plans.”

“Plans?”

“Yes.”

You waited a few seconds for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, you nudged him with your elbow, “Plans?”

“I said yes.”

He was smirking, and you rolled your eyes with a huff, “Stop messing with me, Cameron.”

“Never.”

“Bro,” you groaned, “why can’t you just tell me.”

“Bro, I’m not ruining this for myself.”

“Ruining what?”

He shrugged, “Christmas.”

“Ah yes, Rafe Cameron who notoriously controls the weather, ruins Christmas for us all.”

Rolling his eyes, Rafe chose not to respond, and pulled a book out of his booksack.

“Oh are you ignoring me now?” you asked, poking him.

“Until the caffeine wears off, I’m ignoring you.”

“Rude.”

“You’re rude.”

The lady on the other side of Rafe sighed loudly, ending your giggling and Rafe elbowing you. Biting your lip to hold in your laughs, you grabbed his hand when he tried to poke your side where you were ticklish.

“Asshole,” you whispered, holding his hand as tightly as possible while he fought against you.

“Me? Never,” he answered, shaking his hand free and poking you in the side.

You arched away, whacking your head on the wall next to you. With a groan, you rubbed your forehead, “Fucking ouch.”

He laughed, reaching forward to grab your head, “Watch it, don’t want to give yourself a concussion. Then you’ll be ruining Christmas too.”

“Neither of us are ruining Christmas.”

“Ruining my Christmas,” he responded cryptically.

You tried, “All I want for Christmas is you?”

“No, Mariah. You want to see your family.” You opened your mouth, and he cut you off, “And don’t say you’re my family, I know that, but the rest of your family.”

“Well,” you answered weakly, “as long as you know.”

“Was trying to make it more official,” he muttered, but you heard him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Something,” you argued back.

He mimed zipping his lips, and you sighed, “Fine, be that way.”

“I will.”

And before you could say anything else, the flight attendant came over the speaker and started the pre-flight spiel. You sighed in relief, sending your mom a quick text that you were finally about to take off.

By the time the plane took off, you’d forgotten about Rafe’s weird behavior. Happy to finally be flying and not sitting in an airport.

day 19 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: delayed flight

#rafe cameron #college rafe #ole miss rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday

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kaimelia · 4 years ago

Text

Homage (Pt 2)

a/n: hi, super sorry for the delay with this. this ended up being more amelia/link centric than I intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy anyway

------------------

"Hey, let's just take a moment to step back and take a deep breath." Amelia turned around to face Link, feeling his hand on her shoulder in the motion of comfort he often made. "Whatever happens, I'm going to be right here, and you don't have to worry about losing me."

"Until my Mom tells you about every mistake I've ever made in my life and scares you off," she muttered, rolling her head to each side. Link brought his fingers up to press under her jawbone, lightly massaging the skin as he worked up to her temples.

"Relax. I've seen enough of your crazy to know what I'm getting myself into." She rolled her eyes at him.

"It's not funny."

"You're really worried about this? Amelia," Link lifted up her hand to stop her from picking at her nails, "I genuinely don't think that there is anything your mother could say to make me think differently of you. You've got me pretty hooked."

"When she and I talked about her coming to visit, it seemed so far away, and I was half-convinced it would never happen, so I felt fine talking to her about it, but now she's twenty minutes away in a cab, and I feel like I'm going to throw up." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead. She sighed and leaned into his chest.

"If you're actually going to throw up, just let me know, so I'm not in the line of fire," he whispered, resting his head on top of hers.

"Why are you so calm? Shouldn't you be like, freaking out now that you're meeting my Mom as my boyfriend?" He pulled away and shrugged, holding her shaky hands in his.

"I don't feel much of an expectation, especially considering the relationship you have with her." She rolled her eyes again, dropping her hands from his and walking over to the table.

"Scout's asleep right now. Which means that he'll be awake just after she gets here, which means that he'll be fussing, and my mother will think that I'm incapable of calming my son down." Link raised his eyebrows and stifled a laugh, following her to where she was standing.

"Okay, can we just take a breath?" She met his eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling as he did. "Your mother raised five children and has dozens of grandchildren; I'm sure that she has plenty of experience with babies, and she's not going to judge you if he cries."

"She might hate the apartment and think that we're raising our son in a space unfit for a baby."

"Hey, I love this apartment. It's very homey, and we have our own plans. We're not going to be living here forever; this is just a temporary space while we look at houses." She glanced around the space, eyeing the pile of toys in the corner of the living room. Link seemed to follow her gaze. "Kids play with toys. He's 16 months old; of course, he's going to have way too many toys."

"How do you manage to talk me down from every thought?" He shrugged again casually, moving over to organize the toys.

"I get used to living with you and your brain and how quickly it moves." Link held out his arm, motioning for her to come to join him. "Cleaning something will help you relax. Make you feel like you're fixing something, something you can touch and make better." She sighed dramatically and joined him, putting Scout's blocks away into the carrier neatly. Link continued to busy her for the next while, pointing out the minor things in the apartment that could be fixed. She froze at the sound of a knock on the door, her eyes widening in fear.

"She's here," Amelia muttered, straightening her appearance. "Crap, she's actually here."

"I'll get it-"

"No, I should." He watched as she stood still, and he placed his hand on her shoulder, lightly pushing her forward. "Okay, here I go." Link trailed behind her to the door, his hand settling on her back as a reminder he was there. She let out a deep breath and pulled at the door handle, straightening her posture. "Hey, Mom, oh-" The older Shepherd pulled her daughter into a tight hug, quickly muttering some complaint about her flight.

"And you too, come here," Link's body tensed as she pulled him into a hug, Amelia nearly laughing as his eyes widened comically. "Don't be shy; you're family too now, Atticus." He leaned back, nodding his head tentatively and cringing.

"Just Link. No one calls me Atticus." He offered his hand out, and Carolyn shooed it away.

"No need for formalities; where should I put my bags?" Link moved past her to grab the suitcase, groaning at the unexpected weight of it.

"Link will take you to the guest room. How about I go get Scout? He's been napping, so he might be a little grumpy-"

"Oh, don't wake him. If he's anything like you were as a baby, I'm sure he needs his nap time." Link rubbed his girlfriend's shoulder before motioning towards the guest room, leading the older woman to the space. He set the suitcase on the ground and let her know he'd leave her to unpack before exiting to join his girlfriend in the living room.

"First five minutes went well," he muttered, collapsing onto the couch. "Why am I already exhausted?" She looked back at him.

"We've got two more days of this; you can't be exhausted yet." Amelia walked over to the couch and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I am, too, though." The couple sat up simultaneously as their son called out. Amelia quickly pushed herself off the sofa and speed-walked down the hallway, stopping at the sight of her mother holding her son. "Oh, I can get him," she muttered, placing a hand on the doorframe.

"He's my grandson; I can handle him, Amelia." The neurosurgeon bit her lip as she watched her mother rock Scout back and forth.

"Momma," Scout muttered, holding his arm out towards where Amelia was standing. She grinned and walked over, taking him from her mother, placing a kiss on the baby's head.

"Did you finish unpacking?" Carolyn waved her hand down.

"I'm only here for two days; I didn't bring too much." She sat down in the rocking chair against the wall, watching her daughter. "You know, your sisters keep complaining that you don't talk to them enough."

"Yeah, well, when I do, they're not exactly the nicest people." Amelia placed Scout down on the ground at took his hand, helping him to gain his footing. "Let's go out into the living room; he'll find something to play with." They left the nursery, Scout immediately picking up his pace and speeding towards his father, who lifted him and hugged him tightly.

"What're you doing awake?" Scout giggled as Link tickled him, his attention soon diverting to his mother, who was pulling out blocks.

"Block!" The boy hurried over to Amelia and sat down across from her on the carpet in the living room, pulling out different colored blocks.

"So, Link, tell me about yourself. I feel like I barely know who you are; Amelia keeps hiding you away."

"Mom," she protested, placing a block down.

"I'm just being honest, Amy." Amelia rolled her eyes and turned back to her son.

"It's fine," Link laughed, clasping his hands together. "Uh, I'm from Seattle, I'm an orthopedic surgeon, my parents live in Denver, I lived in L.A. for a while before coming up to work for the Mariners, and then I ended up at Grey-Sloan, which is where Amelia and I met." Carolyn raised her eyebrows and nodded, sitting down on the loveseat beside the couch.

"So, should I be expecting a wedding sometime soon? Because I promise we will come, as long as you give us proper notice."

"Mom! Please."

"Amelia, you have a habit of not telling us things and then expecting us to show up when it's convenient for you." The neurosurgeon rubbed her forehead and made eye contact with her boyfriend, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Link, could you bring Scout to his room, please?" He raised his eyebrows, standing up slowly and lifting Scout, quickly leaving the room. Amelia looked over at her mother and sat down on the couch. "Mom, I gave you over two weeks' notice of the wedding. That was plenty of time for you to fly out and come be there for me, and now that we have Scout, I need to know that you're going to be there if you want to be involved in his life," she muttered, folding her hands over each other. "And I know I haven't made the most effort to be a part of the family; I'm still not exactly keen on the idea of spending Christmas in New York and Thanksgiving with all of my sisters, but I told you about Scout for a reason."

"Is Link the one?" Amelia smiled and nodded her head, feeling her cheeks warm at her immediate, subconscious reaction.

"He is. And we're going to get married someday, and I'll want you there."

"You realize that you're going to have to let me spend time with him, yes?" She rolled her eyes.

"I know. Just promise not to embarrass me too much, okay?" She watched as her mother nodded sternly before sighing.

"Can I hug you?" Amelia grinned and leaned forward, shocked at the unfamiliar comfort she felt in her mother's embrace. "You know, even if I don't do a great job of showing it, I am proud of you, Amy."

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelink fanfic #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #greys abc #greys fanfic #carolyn shepherd #my fics

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engie-ivy · 4 years ago

Text

Sorry, I'm behind on schedule now for @remus-john-lupin Wolfstar Holiday Prompt list😅

13: Blizzard

Wish I'd known before you left me

Winter in America - Doug Ashdown

Remus’ flight is delayed and he has to go back to what used to be his and Sirius’ flat. Like saying goodbye once wasn't hard enough.

“I’m very sorry sir, but no airline will risk flying through this horrible blizzard. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it on the news.” Right, the muggle news. Remus should’ve checked the muggle news before leaving. The girl behind the desk scrolls through her computer screen. “All flights have been delayed. The best I can do is book you a seat on a flight scheduled for tomorrow.”

Remus sighs. “Well, if that’s the only option…”

The girl gives him a sympathetic smile. “Do you need help finding a place to stay for the night?”

Remus shakes his head. “No thank you. I’m fine. I live in London.” Used to live in London.

As Remus makes his way out of the airport, he almost wishes he had asked for a hotel, instead of going back to his flat. Sirius’ flat. Saying goodbye to Sirius had been heart-wrenching, and now he’d come home, Sirius’ home, not his anymore, only to say goodbye again tomorrow…

A bitter laugh escapes Remus. Such a cruel twist would be just his luck.

Remus gets in a taxi. He could’ve just apparated, but he needs a moment to calm his mind before facing Sirius again. He thinks back to their last conversation.

“Everything’s packed. Well, except for that green jumper I can’t seem to find. The plane leaves in just a few hours, so I’ll be going to the airport soon.”

“You don’t have to do this, Moony.”

“I know. But I want to. It’s a chance for me to be useful.”

“You can be useful here!”

“How, Padfoot? You’re going to be a Healer, Prongs is going to be an Auror, while I can’t even keep a job moving boxes!”

“That still doesn’t mean you should allow them to use you as a bloody guinea pig!”

“The research team in Boston is making vast progress. They say Damocles Belby is well on his way to a breakthrough! If I can help with a cure, or even the hope of a cure, don’t I owe it to-”

“You don’t owe anybody a damn thing! Just because you have this condition doesn’t mean others should be allowed to use you for whatever they want.”

“I’m not doing it for them. I’m doing it for others like me. They can test their potions on me if it means others will eventually have a safe cure.”

“Is it really worth it, though? Leaving your family, leaving your friends, leaving- And you don’t know when, or if, you’ll come back…”

“I’m not only making sacrifices. They’re offering me a place to stay and they’ll pay me some money.”

“Stop that. I hate it when you do that. Talk like you should be grateful that they’re willing to give you something in return, while you’re leaving your entire life behind and risking your health to be their test subject!”

“Most people don’t think a werewolf deserves even that courtesy.”

“Most people are idiots.”

“In any case, I can’t keep living off of yours and Prongs’ pocket.”

“You’re not-“

“Oh please, Sirius. I’m not dumb. I know that the rent you’re asking me to pay isn’t even twenty percent of what this place actually costs. And I know that I’m not constantly forgetting I still had some galleons in my coat pocket.”

“We don’t mind, Moony.”

“But I do.”

“I wish you could stay for Christmas at least.”

“Me too. But the subsidy provider demands they start the testing phase this year, so they want to get started before the Holidays.”

“It won’t be the same without you, Moony. I… I’m going to miss you.”

“I really am sorry, Sirius.”

Remus stares out of the taxi’s window at the snowflakes slowly falling. Walking away from that flat, walking away from Sirius, had been the hardest thing he’s ever done. He wonders how he’ll find the strength to do it again tomorrow. As he was walking away, suitcase in hand, Sirius had called after him. Remus had turned around, and Sirius had been standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face. Remus had half-hoped Sirius would ask him one more time to stay. Remus had half-hoped this time he’d give in. But Sirius had shaken his head, and the moment had been gone. “Have a safe flight, Moony,” was all he had said.

Sirius is an important reason why it’s so hard for Remus to leave. Sirius is also an important reason why Remus has to leave. Remus is in love with Sirius. The feelings came when he was fifteen. At first, he tried to make them go away, but after nights of crawling into Sirius’ arms after a nightmare, mornings of waking up with Sirius’ hand in his after a rough full moon, and evenings of falling asleep with his head on Sirius’ shoulder, he had come to accept that loving Sirius would be a permanent part of his life.

Remus never forgets what he is, though. With his lycanthropy, Remus is condemned to a life of poverty, prejudice, stigma and danger. He can’t drag another person into that, especially someone who deserves as much as Sirius. But he hadn’t expected how different being flat mates would be from being dorm mates. It feels so domestic sometimes, and Remus can’t help having these thoughts. What if? What if this could be more than a fantasy? What if we lived in a different world? A world where I’m not a werewolf? A world where I’m not afraid to love him, or let him love me? It’s pointless thinking. They don’t live in a different world and he is a werewolf. And besides, Remus can’t imagine a world in which he’d ever be good enough for Sirius Black.

Remus walks up to their front door. Sirius’ front door. The door is open, and Remus steps inside. No lights are on inside. For a moment, Remus thinks no one’s home, but then he hears a soft whimper coming from the living room. Remus leaves his suitcase in the kitchen and walks towards the sound.

“Sirius?” He asks softly.

Then he sees him. He’s curled up on the couch, clutching the supposedly lost green jumper and pressing it against his chest. He’s crying. His cheeks are wet with tears and his body is shaking with his sobs.

For a moment, Remus can only stand and stare, hardly able to comprehend seeing his best friend so broken.

“Sirius?” He asks when he eventually regains the ability to speak. “Oh, Sirius…”

Sirius’ eyes fly open, red and puffy from crying, and he sits up. He looks at Remus as though he’s a ghost.

Remus expects Sirius to quickly wipe the tears away, and laugh it off or pretend that it never happened, but he doesn’t. He launches himself at Remus, wraps his arms around him, and clutches to him like a life-line.

“Don’t go, Moony. Please don’t go. I can’t. I can’t without you. I can’t. I need you, Moony. Don’t leave. Please… Just please don’t leave!”

Remus just holds him and soothingly rubs his back, whispering whatever comes to mind. “I’m here, Siri. It’s all going to be okay. I’m here.”

Remus sits Sirius back down on the couch, and once he’s calmed down a bit, Remus places a hand on his cheek to wipe the tears away “Why did you never say anything?”

Sirius covers his hand with his own. “What could I have said? You’ve always been very clear. You don’t do romance or relationships, it’s not for you. I would’ve just driven you away, and I rather had you with me, though not in the way I truly wanted, then not have you at all.”

Remus pulls his hand back and shakes his head. “But nothing’s changed. I’m still a werewolf, I still can’t give you all the things you deserve.”

Sirius cups Remus’ face in both his hands and forces him to look at him. “What does that matter? I love you, Remus Lupin. If you reject me because you don’t feel the same way, then I’ll accept that. But don’t you dare reject me because you’re deceiving yourself into thinking that’s what’s best for me. You were gone for three hours, and look at what a mess I was. You’re what’s best for me.”

Remus can see the determination in Sirius’ eyes. What if? What if this could be more than a fantasy? What if we lived in a different world? But it doesn’t matter, does it? This world or any other, they’re Sirius Black and Remus Lupin and they’re meant to be together.

Remus gets up from the couch and Sirius drops his hands and stares after him. Remus walks over to the old muggle phone he sometimes uses to talk to his mum, or occasionally Lily, and picks up the horn.

“Good afternoon, I’m calling about a booking I’ve made for the flight from London Heathrow to Boston Logan International Airport tomorrow. Under the name Remus John Lupin. Yes, indeed. No, madam, I’d actually like to cancel my booking.”

Remus can’t help but smile at the relief, hope and love all evident on Sirius’ face.

“Yes, madam, I’m sure. I understand, but I can assure you that I’m absolutely certain.”

While the lady goes on about the airline’s cancelation policy, Remus meets Sirius’ eyes.

“As a matter of fact, madam, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #wolfstar holiday prompts

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classicdaisycalico · 4 years ago

Note

Number 11 from the fictional kiss prompts strikes me as so Luaisy ;)

Fictional Kiss Prompts

11. When one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

You are absolutely, totally, 110% correct, by the way. Also, it took me a while to finish this, since I had a lot of work-related stuff to do today, but I really hope you like this!

“Fever”

It was just Luigi’s luck that he had to be sick today. Of all days.

Today, a certain someone was flying into the Mushroom Kingdom for a visit, and to say that this someone was a sight for sore eyes, for him, would have been the understatement of the century.

After dutifully crossing out every passing day on the calendar on the pantry door, months turned into weeks, weeks into days, and soon, into hours. In that final night before, he had trouble sleeping just thinking about it. His stomach was in knots. His head was spinning. How in the world would he function at all? With this much pent-up energy in his system and no way to get it out until the sun rose, Luigi felt like he was going to be sick.

And, of course, this adrenaline rush he was feeling decided to take that statement literally, and at around 9:00 AM, he found himself throwing up in the bathroom toilet. Maybe he had too much cacio e pepe during last night’s dinner?

Or, as his brother would later find out, he had contracted a fever. Poor Luigi had overworked himself these past few days with their plumbing business that he somehow got sick in the process. Focusing on work instead of getting distracted by his emotions should have been a GOOD thing.

“Sorry, bro,” Mario said as he adjusted the cold compress on his brother’s forehead. “You’ll have to sit this one out today.”

Luigi sniffed. “But did it have to be today?”

“I know.” The man in red looked away, a twinge of guilt in his eyes. “But don’t worry!” he piped up, trying to cheer his brother up. “I’ll tell the princess you said hello!”

His twin smiled bleakly. “Yes, please.”

“Okie dokie!”

He left the bottom bunk where Luigi was resting, but before he exited the room, he turned back to his brother. “There’s still some leftover fire flower soup...you know, quando hai fame.”

“That might work. Grazie.”

“Prego.” He shrugged apologetically, and out the door he went.

***

Luigi had forgotten how well that fire flower soup did its job when he and Mario were sick as children. Every time they came down with a cold, a fever, or a stomach virus, mamma e babbo made that soup. As its name implied, it was incredibly spicy, and usually, their ailments would be better within a day.

Today was no exception. After a rather late mid-afternoon lunch, Luigi was already sweating bullets within an hour, and before long, he had fallen asleep.

***

He hadn’t realized how long he’d slept until he woke up, and the alarm clock on the side table read 6:00 AM.

His eyes widened. Had it really been that long?!

He rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. Not long after, his face contorted into one of disgust. After a long night of sweating out a fever in his sleep, he needed a shower to get that gross stench off of him, and to top it all off, his breath smelled equally as disgusting.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Luigi grabbed a clean set of clothes and bolted toward the bathroom. It didn’t matter to him how early in the morning it was; he would only be completely rid of this fever when he didn’t smell like Wario after a soccer match.

***

It was easily the quickest shower and subsequent tooth-brushing he had ever put himself through, but at last, Luigi was on his way out of the house. He had no particular destination in mind; as long as he was enjoying the fresh air that he had missed out on yesterday, he would be fine

Before long, after 45 minutes of aimless meandering, he found himself at a cliffside at the edge of the woods. By the looks of the sky, the sun was almost about to rise. He could watch it himself, of course, but it would have been better if she were sitting beside him, her head against his shoulder as their fingers laced through each other’s. He sighed forlornly. “She’d love this...”

“Love what?”

Immediately, he flinched in fright. Someone was here? Someone had HEARD him?! “Who’s there?” he asked, whipping his head around.

He watched as a small hand brushed away some tree branches, and Luigi could only gape in surprise. The person emerging from the edge of the woods was none other than the “she” in question. “Daisy?”

The princess leaned against one of the tree trunks, rubbing one of her eyes with her free hand. “The one and only,” she answered. “What are you doing up so early?”

His head tilted to the side in confusion. “I should ask the same of you, mia cara.”

“My flight got delayed...it finally came in this morning,” she answered as she let out a yawn. “I’m sorry, Luigi,” she said as her knees buckled. “I’m not normally this tired in the morning...but this jet lag...it’s intense.”

“Here, let me help you.”

He helped her sit down between two large tree roots, with him settling beside her. “Thank you,” she answered, her head leaning against his shoulder.

He smiled at the sweet gesture, trying to ignore his reddening face. “No problem.”

“But you haven’t answered my question.”

His head turned to face her. “Hm?”

“Could you not sleep, either? Is that why you’re here?”

He looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Something like that. I had a bad fever yesterday.”

Hearing this, Daisy pulled away from him almost instantly, which wasn’t very much, considering the relatively short distance of the tree roots. “Whoa, whoa. I did NOT just fly all the way here from Sarasaland only to be bogged down by a fever I got from--”

“I’m not contagious...I think. I’m actually feeling much better today!”

“Well, how do I know you’re not contagious right now?”

He stared at her, skepticism written all over her face, right down to the raised eyebrow and pursed lips, when an idea crossed his mind.

Was it impulsive? Definitely. But was it harmful? Probably not.

Normally, he would never do such things, but considering how long he had been counting down the days for Daisy to return to the Mushroom Kingdom again, he didn’t want to waste a single second.

Smiling warmly, Luigi simply replied. “Dimmi, principessa...would a contagious person do this?”

In a single, swift motion, he reached over and kissed her, eliminating whatever small distance between them remained.

Was she surprised? Almost certainly, judging by the sharp gasp she drew in as his lips touched hers.

Maybe a little...too surprised?

He pulled away, feeling the guilt set in. This was why he never did things like this. “I shouldn’t have done that” he said, pulling his hat over his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, the princess didn’t reply. Instead, she simply sat there, next to him, trying to register what just happened. When she finally looked back up at him, there was a slight tinge of pink across her cheeks. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as a small smile began to form. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure you--”

His words got cut off as Daisy reached over to kiss him back. She certainly made no secret about how she appreciated Luigi’s surprisingly bold move a few seconds before, either, pulling him closer by the straps of his overalls. In response, he let one of his arms snake around her waist and held her closer, as well, while his other free hand nestled itself in her warm, brown hair.

Even when they finally broke apart for air, neither one could help smiling from ear to ear as they continued looking into each other’s eyes. “You really missed me, didn’t you?” he quipped, a playful smirk on his face.

“Oh, that?” She shrugged innocently. “I just needed to be sure there wasn’t any fever left.”

He feigned offense, clutching a hand to his chest. “And what about the first time? Was that not enough?”

“The first time, I didn’t have enough evidence.”

“Davvero?”

“Yes, really. So the next time you try anything like that again...” she answered, with a small wink in his direction, “...I wouldn’t mind you being more direct.”

Seeing Luigi’s face immediately turn bright red, the princess giggled. “You’re cute when you blush,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder again. “And you’re right about the sunrise, by the way...it’s beautiful.”

He looked over at the rolling hills before them. Beyond the rolling hills, the sun peeked out above the horizon, into a purple sky, blending upwards into pink, then into orange. There was no denying the perfectly picturesque view that welcomed the day.

Still, he could watch the sun rise on any given fair-weather morning. There were always rarer, more beautiful views than this.

Like the one sitting next to him, for example.

Letting his fingers intertwine with hers, he leaned his head against her own and smiled. “Sì...è bella.”

#ask me things #drones-of-innocence #Princess Daisy #my fave #Luigi and Daisy #my mario series otp #now that i look at it this fic kinda hits different given the pandemic-related circumstances we're in--#oopsie #anyways i'm really happy with how i wrote the ending #is he talking about the sunset? is he talking about her? is he talking TO her?#it's ~up to interpretation~ lol #i love playing with languages like this!!!!!#i'll edit in the italian lessons later hahahahahaha #preferably when i have more battery on this computer OOPS--#melissa writes

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softboywriting · 5 years ago

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Christmas Together | Shawn Mendes

Summary: When you and Shawn head home for Christmas, you end up stuck in a snowstorm in a small town in the middle of the united states. With all flights grounded until further notice, the two of you will have to spend Christmas together at a bed and breakfast. This blizzard may just be the push that brings the two of you together with the help of a little Christmas magic. [fluff] [Christmas themed] [personal assistant to lovers au] [non au shawn]

Word Count: 6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Traveling with Shawn for the holidays is never easy. He is possibly the busiest man you've ever worked for but you don’t mind because being with Shawn is just like being with someone you love, because, well, you do love him. Thanksgiving came and went, yours in the states not his, you don't go home for that holiday anyways. It's not a big deal for your family back home. Christmas is though and traveling three days before Christmas is a nightmare.

Things were going smoothly, you had a plan to get home before christmas. Things were going perfectly until the last minute. You had somehow gotten two tickets on a fully booked flight from Brazil to Canada. The plan is for you to fly straight to the Toronto airport, no layovers and from there you'll catch a cab home to New York. You're about an hour into the flight and you can feel some turbulence coming on. No big deal. Until the pilot announced an emergency landing somewhere in Iowa.

"Oh no...no no shit." You look out the window and see nothing but clouds. No doubt about it, you’ve flown directly into a storm system.

"What? It's fine, we're just going to be a little delayed." Shawn rubs your shoulder. "It's no big deal."

"No, it is." You lean your head back against the headrest. "My sister is having a baby today and I promised I'd be there. My whole family is going to be there for Christmas. She's the first of us to have a kid."

"Oh. You didn't tell me that."

You look over and Shawn looks concerned. He always has such a big heart for everyone, it’s one of the many reasons why you love him so much. "I didn't think you needed to know. It's not work related."

"Well yeah but I still care about you. I know I'm your job but like, I'm still a person who cares about you."

"I know...I know I usually tell you everything it's just been...I've been-"

Shawn lays his hand on yours and you look down at it, heart racing. "I've been difficult lately. I know and I'm sorry. Traveling and shows have been hectic the last few weeks. It's totally my fault you’re overwhelmed."

"No, Shawn it's fine. My job is to take care of all that stuff. I'm not- I shouldn't complain about it."

"So what's stressing you out if it's not me?"

"Everything about the christmas season. My sister having a kid, obviously but...mostly it’s that christmas sucks when you're single okay?"

Shawn's eyebrows shoot up. "Why?"

"Because every year I go home and my siblings all have their girlfriends and boyfriends or fiance's and shit and I'm the odd one out. Every year I become the center of attention at dinner, the butt of the joke during gift opening. It's just a pain in the ass being branded as the forever alone child in the family."

"Why is your family so mean?"

"They aren't. They don't mean their comments venmously, it's just little things that bug me. Little indirect jabs that remind everyone I'm single and I have been for a long time."

"Why are you single?"

You give him a blank stare. He couldn't be serious. He doesn't understand that he's the reason you can't be in a relationship? That your job of tailing him everywhere and managing his schedule and life is just as stressful on a relationship with someone for you as it is for him. "Shawn, I'm constantly traveling. When am I supposed to date? When am I supposed to meet someone?"

"Fuck." He groans and scrubs a hand over his face. "You're in the same boat as me. I didn’t even think of it like that."

"Yeah except I can't fly somewhere every time I have a few days off to see someone and make an attempt at one."

He shakes his head. "I've doomed you to be single. I'm putting you through the same stress I put myself through and it's not fair."

"It's not. But it's my job, and you have yours."

Shawn grabs your arm as the plan drops and shakes. "I'll make it up to you, I swear." His voice falters as the plane jerks violently.

You squeeze your eyes shut and he threads his fingers between yours, palm a little sweaty. "I don't see how but okay."

"If we make it through this I will do everything I can to get you a date."

"You're crazy Mendes."

"Yeah but you already knew that."

_____________________

The plane lands in one piece despite feeling like it was going to tear in half at any moment. As soon as you get to the airline club lounge you find out the flight is not just delayed but all flights are grounded for the next forty eight hours at least. Two days. You are definitely going to miss your sister's baby and you're possibly going to miss Christmas. As much as you don't want to deal with your family for the holiday, you're still going to miss them and you’re upset you might not be there.

"What're we going to do?" You ask as you slump into a chair beside Shawn. He looks over from his phone and you raise your eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

"I got a place to stay until we can get another flight."

"What? How? That's my job."

He chuckles and pockets his phone. "I can book a place. I know how to use the internet."

"Well yeah but- how? There was a hotel with rooms free this close to Christmas and during a storm?"

"Kind of. Every hotel I looked at was full but there is a bed and breakfast about half an hour from the airport that had a room."

You stand up and grab your bag and suitcase. "I'll call a car or taxi or something for us and-"

Shawn lays his hand on your shoulder. "I did that too. I got an Uber."

"Oh."

"You do absolutely everything for me. I figured I could return the favor since right now is really stressful for you."

"But it's my job...it's not a favor."

Shawn shakes his head and grabs his bags. "Come on, you need to relax. I read that this b'nb is super nice and the rooms have huge tubs. I know you like baths."

"What? How do you know that?"

"You travel with mini bath bombs in your shower bag and you always seek out the hot tub when we book a really nice hotel on tour." Shawn looks back and you jog to catch up to him. "I guess I’m a little observant?"

"What else have you observed?" You ask nervously, hoping he hasn’t caught on to the fact you have very real feelings for him. You’ve done your best to hide them for a long time.

Shawn holds open the door to the pick up lanes for you as you step out into the icy wind blowing snow everywhere. "Your favorite color is red."

"Why's that?"

"You rarely wear it but when you do, you are always more confident and you seem more comfortable. You always pick red when given a choice of things and your eyes always light up whenever I wear my red button down, so I know you must like the color at least."

"Maybe that's because it looks so good on you."

He smirks. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

"Good to know." Shawn steps out into the snow and approaches a black car. "Come on, this is our ride."

_____________________

The bed and breakfast looks like a winter wonderland. It's decked out in decorated trees, wreaths, lights, the whole nine yards when the Uber driver pulls up. It has a little sign in the front that says Dover Inn. How Shawn found this place you have no idea. A short walk up to the front and you and Shawn are pushing your way through a heavy door into a small foyer that's been converted into a check in area.

"Hello!" An older woman with long dark hair says as she comes out of a back area. Her name tag says Judy. "Do you have reservations?"

"Yes, Mendes. We booked online." Shawn shakes snow off his hat by the door. "The first name is Peter."

"Ah, yes, here you are." Judy says, squinting at her laptop on the old wood countertop. "Let me go see that the room is ready. I'll be right back."

"Peter?" You ask, dusting your coat off. "Why'd you use your middle name?"

"I didn't want to draw attention to myself. You know how fans are, they always somehow find out where I'm staying."

"True. Smart, actually. But we're in the middle of nowhere Iowa in a town of probably a few thousand people during a snowstorm. I'm pretty sure that no fans are going to bum rush you out here."

"I wasn't taking the risk." Shawn pulls his hat back on and you shake your head at him.

"Mr. Mendes?" Judy says from the stairs behind the check in desk.

"Yes?"

"You booked a double room correct?"

"Yes."

The woman walks forward to the desk and types something into her laptop, chewing on her lower lip. "There is an error with room numbers on the site, the room you booked is a single room suite with a queen bed. We can refund you if you like. I'm so sorry."

"No," you lay your hand on Shawn's arm before he can say anything. "It's fine. We will take it."

Shawn gives you a look, silently asking if you're sure.

"You're sure?" The host asks, looking between you and Shawn. "I can at least give you a discount for the mistake."

"That will be fine, thank you." Shawn says softly and the host grabs your room keys.

On the way up the stairs you notice how beautiful this place really is. It's old, a historic building if you were to guess. A large manor like house of sorts at some time, but now converted to a bed and breakfast. Everything is decked out in Christmas, literally everything. Judy leads you to your room at the end of the hall and opens the door.

"We have pillows and blankets in the closet. There are heated blankets available on request. Breakfast is served at eight until nine every morning. If you need anything you can call the front desk by dialing star five five. Feel free to explore the inn, we have a large living room and the kitchen open to guests after ten in the morning. Can I get you anything right now?"

"No, thank you." You smile as you look around the gorgeous room. It's huge and spacious. There is a fireplace in the center of the far wall, lounge chairs flanking it with a small tree decorated in the corner. A large queen-size bed with a huge bed frame and two dark wood dressers sit against the opposite wall. There is a door on the left of the entrance for the bathroom and the right for the closet. It's incredible.

Shawn drops his bag on the floor by the closet and pushes his suitcase and guitar case up against it. "You're fine with sharing a bed?"

"Yeah? Should I not be?"

"Well I mean isn’t it a little...intimate?"

You laugh. "Shawn, I've been your assistant for almost two years now. I'm pretty sure that I can survive sharing a bed for two nights with you. It's just like sharing your bed with your best friend when they sleep over." You drop your own bag by the closet. "Don't worry about it." You say this, but honestly you’re not sure how you’re going to fare. Being close to Shawn is one thing, but sharing a bed is a special kind of intimate, whether sexual or not, you worry about how you’ll be able to keep your cool.

Shawn takes off his coat and flops down on the bed. "I'm sorry you're missing your sister's baby."

You hang your own coat and flop down beside him. "There's nothing that can be done now."

"What if we can't get home for Christmas?"

You look over and he turns his head to look at you. "We have each other?"

"Yeah, we do." Shawn smiles softly. "I'm glad I'm stuck here with you."

"I'm glad it's you too."

____________________

Sleeping with Shawn is better than you expected. To start, you thought he would be a bed hog like he is on the tour bus, sprawled out all over his bed at the back of the bus, but he isn't. The two of you put on pajamas and crawled in on your respective sides. It was a little awkward at first, both of you unsure if it was okay to move or curl up or anything really. You decided to break that barrier though, push the button and make a move because the tension was absolutely eating you alive.

You scoot over from the very edge of the bed where you are laying uncomfortably still. You turn on your side and face Shawn who looks uncomfortable as hell too. "Hey, you look like you're petrified."

"I don't know what to do."

"How do you usually sleep with other people in your bed?"

Shawn rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand. "Well, usually I spoon them because it's someone I'm very interested in and have usually just been intimate with. Other than that I usually sleep alone."

"Uh huh. So is it the lack of intimacy before hand that's stopping you?"

His cheeks turn dark pink in the soft glow of the white lights on the tree in the corner. "I-I don't know. Maybe?"

"If you need to spoon me so you can sleep, you can. I don't mind." You lay on your back and roll so your back is to him. You pat your side, inviting him to cuddle up. It’s the worst idea you’ve ever had and your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest at the sheer thought of Shawn being pressed against you. But how else will you ever get to experience a Shawn cuddle? You would rather know and live with that knowledge for the rest of your life while you pine in silence until you find someone to settle down with, than never know and always wonder just what you may have missed. "I trust you Shawn."

The bed shifts and you can feel the heat from his body as he scoots closer, but not quite touching. "You don't think it's weird?"

"We've been in much more intimate situations I’m sure. I've seen you naked a few dozen times. This isn't a big deal. I sleep better with someone close and you do too it seems. Just cuddle me and stop being so nervous about it."

Shawn's hand rests tentatively on your hip. "You're sure you don’t mind?"

"Shawn. I swear, it's fine." You chew on your lip, voice surprisingly convincing despite your nerves.

Finally Shawn takes the plunge, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you back against his warm body. Instantly you melt, body completely turning to mush. It’s everything you imagined it would be and more. He’s just right, bigger than you, warmer, soft but not too soft. You let out a sigh and he presses his nose to your hair.

"You smell really good,” Shawn says quietly.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, and thank you for letting me cuddle you. I hope you don't think I'm weird."

You put your hand over his against your chest. "I always think you're weird, but not because of this."

"I miss it."

"Hmm? Miss what?"

"Being affectionate like this." He adjusts himself so he is fully pressed against the length of your body, feet covering yours between the blankets.. "It's been a long time."

You close your eyes, nervous to say what you really want to. Worried he will know you're falling for him. Well...that you’ve already fallen for him. You did that a long time ago. "I don't mind if you want to do this. I mean...like, again?"

Shawn presses his hand against your chest gently, holding you back against him as if giving you a hug. "I just might have to take you up on that offer sometime."

_____________________

Morning finds you warm and cozy. There is a fire in the fireplace when you sit up and look around the otherwise empty room. Shawn isn't there, but the smell of his body wash wafts in from the bathroom that's open but dark. You look to the clock over the fireplace and it's just after eight thirty. You check your phone and you have no signal, of course.

You stretch as you get up and go to the big windows on the far wall. It's snowing still. You doubt it has ever stopped. You grab the complimentary robe from the dresser on your side of the room and wrap up in it before heading downstairs.

In the dining area that's set up like a small restaurant would be with it's tables and chairs scattered around with families and couples sat in eating, you find Shawn alone by the fireplace sipping coffee and reading something on his phone.

"Morning," you say softly as you take a seat with your back to the fireplace. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby. You?"

"Same."

Shawn puts his phone down and offers you his cup. "Coffee?"

"That's yours though?"

"Yeah but you can have some while we wait for the hostess to come by again." Shawn scoots the mug toward you. "I know you aren't sick or something."

You wrap your hands around the mug and lift it up to take a sip. Straight black coffee with a hint of sweetener. It's strong as hell and you swear you can feel it wake your senses up immediately. "This is horrible. How do you enjoy this?"

He laughs. "It's good?"

"No cream or something? It's like engine oil."

"Nuh uh." Shawn plucks his mug from your hands and takes a drink. "It's great. Oh, here comes the hostess."

You order some eggs, bacon and orange juice. Shawn asks for just some bacon and toast. You look out the window to see the snow reaching the bottom of it, drifted up from the wind no doubt. It has snowed so much you're seriously worried you may not get home for a while.

"What's wrong?"

"The snow. It keeps falling."

"Yep." Shawn turns and looks outside. "I told my parents I would be spending Christmas here. If I'm wrong, it'll be a surprise when I get home. If I'm right, they're not worried about me."

"You have signal?"

"Yeah. You don't?"

"No. Can I call my parents?"

Shawn hands you his phone and you excuse yourself to the living room where it's a little quieter. You dial your dad's cell number and lean against the wall near a tree.

"Dad? Hey it's me."

"Kiddo! Where are you? We thought you were coming home last night?"

"We had to land in Iowa. We're grounded for at least two days, but it might be longer. It's hasn't stopped snowing since last night. Did Penny have her baby?"

"Not yet. They said it could be any day now, I guess she wasn't ready."

"That's great! Well, not for Penny but I didn't miss it. Is she worried about me? Did she think I forgot?"

"No no, we figured you might have been delayed. Whose number are you calling from by the way? I didn't recognize it."

"It's Sh- the hotel's number. I'm using a landline."

"It's an out of country number? I thought you were in Iowa?"

You scrub a hand over your face and mentally kick yourself. You don't want to tell your dad it's Shawn's cell number but your lie doesn't make sense. "It's Shawn's phone. Promise me you won't give this number out."

"Shawn? You're traveling home with him?"

"Yeah, well, no."

"Honey!" You dad calls for your mom and you hear her respond in the background. "Our daughter is bringing home a guest for Christmas!"

"Dad! No! We aren't going to make it!"

"What's that dear? You're breaking up, I can barely make out your voice."

"Dad, we probably aren't going to make it for Christmas and I'm not bringing Shawn home. Dad, can you hear me?"

"You're bringing Shawn? That's okay! We'll see you soon!"

"Dad no! We aren't-" The line goes dead and you pull the phone away from your ear. The signal bars drop from three to none and you groan. Perfect...just perfect.

______________________

After breakfast you find Shawn in the living room with his guitar sitting with a little girl who has a cat piano that meows instead of playing regular piano notes. The girl is maybe five or six and you're pretty sure her grandma is the woman sitting a few feet away on her iPad. You lean against the archway that leads to the dining area and smile as Shawn let's the girl pluck a few strings on the guitar.

"You like music huh? What's your favorite?"

"I like the music from Frozen and Moana." The girl says and presses a key on her piano that makes a deep cat meowing sound. "I like Moana the best."

"Me too." Shawn smiles, playing a few chords. "I know the song How Far I’ll Go pretty well."

You shake your head as he smiles to himself. Of course he knows the song, it's one of Alessia's. Shawn looks up and sees you. He says something to the girl really quick and gets up, leaving his guitar on the floor.

"Hey, did you get to call your parents back after it dropped?"

"No, the signal keeps fading. I sent a few texts, hopefully they'll get them."

"Ah. Well...did you know you're standing under the mistletoe?"

"Huh?" You look up and sure enough there is a little sprig of green with holly berries attached to the archway. "No, I think you're under the mistletoe."

"No, it's definitely you and you know what that means."

"You're gonna kiss me?"

"Yep." Shawn leans in and kisses your cheek gently as you back up. "You're free to go now."

You roll your eyes and giggle as he steps forward and leans against the archway. "Oh no, looks like you're definitely under it now."

"Ah crap."

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Looks like I was right all along."

Shawn laughs and turns away to go back into the living room. "I'll get you back for that, you lured me in."

"Uh huh. Sure you will." You head upstairs to find a movie on tv to kill time. May as well get used to it. You're going to be here a while longer.

_____________________

A little after noon Shawn finds you in the room curled up on the bed watching TV. You just got a text back from your dad saying that Penny had her baby. A boy named Lucas, eight pounds. You couldn't help but cry, disappointed you weren't there but happy that Penny had her baby okay. It sucks.

"What's wrong?" Shawn asks, sitting beside you on the bed. "Your eyes are red like you were upset."

"Penny had her baby."

"Oh! That's great, is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

You nod. "I'm just sad I couldn't be there for her. She's the first of my siblings and I to have a kid and I guess...I guess I sort of live vicariously through her."

"Oh."

"It's fine." You wipe your eyes. "Everyone is healthy. I'll get to meet the baby a little later. It's alright."

Shawn opens his arms and motions for you to come to him. You do, leaning forward until you're crawling into his arms. He holds you tight, rubbing up and down your back with his big soft hands. "Its okay to be upset. I understand if you're emotional about missing something clearly important to you."

You rub your nose on his shoulder. "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm crying so much."

"No, shh, you don't have to be sorry."

"But-"

Shawn squeezes you. "No buts, let it all out. You're always there for me on my bad days, I'm gonna be here for you."

_____________________

"Can I take you to dinner?"

You look up from your laptop. The inn has WiFi but it's not the best. You've just been updating schedules and trying to get any flight out of Iowa. So far everything is still grounded until the storms blow over. "Dinner?"

"Yeah. I was talking with some people in the living room earlier and they said that there is a place not too far from here that serves dinner through Christmas Eve. I thought maybe it'd get your mind off of everything."

"Sure." You close your laptop and get up to put on your coat. "Are we walking?"

"Yes. Wear your boots."

"Mmm and what are you going to wear?" You glance at his well loved chelsea boots in the corner. They're the only shoes he has with him aside from some tennis shoes made of breathable mesh.

Shawn grabs his boots and looks down at his feet, wiggling his toes in his socks. "I'll wear extra socks?"

"Mmhmm." You sit down and pull on your black leather boots that are possibly the best shoes you own. "Y'know you're a millionaire right? You can afford new boots just like those that aren't worn thin."

"I know. But these are comfortable, they're my boots."

"Right."

He groans as he sinks into the bed beside you to put on an extra pair of socks. "I promise I'll get new boots okay? But I won't get rid of these."

"Shawn, they're old."

"They're my favorite." He zips the side and stomps his foot down to adjust to the extra socks bulk. "Don't judge me."

"Alright, alright," you giggle. "I'll stop bullying you into getting new shoes. If they make you happy, that's what matters."

"They do." Shawn gets up and grabs his coat, tossing you his sweater he wore yesterday. "You might want that."

"I have a sweater?"

"The thin one that you wore yesterday? That's hardly a sweater."

"I didn't plan on being trapped in a snowglobe after leaving Brazil, a very non sweater climate. So sorry I didn't pack for a blizzard."

Shawn narrows his eyes and you narrow yours back. "I'm not going to take a human popsicle to dinner."

"Oh whatever." You snatch his sweater off the bed laughing as you pull it on. It's a little big and it smells like cinnamon and his cologne. So basically, Shawn. You used to wonder why he smelled like cinnamon, then you found out one of his primary vitamin supplements has cinnamon in it. It's supposed to help with metabolism or something. All you know is it makes him smell slightly spicy when he gets warm.

The walk to the restaurant is fairly short. It's just two blocks up from the inn. The snow is a pain to walk through and it's easier to walk in the street than it is to try and use the sidewalk. There are absolutely no cars out and about so you're pretty safe. There are a few other people in the restaurant when you step in, grateful to get out of the cold wind. You're glad you wore Shawn's sweater.

"So, if we are stuck here for Christmas, what do you want to do?" Shawn asks as soon as you're seated by the waitress.

"We're going to find a way home."

"I know you're trying but-"

You shake your head. "No, I'm going to find a way home. I missed Penny's baby. I'm not missing Christmas."

Shawn sighs softly. "Alright. We're going to find a way home. I'll get you home one way or another."

"We'll get us both home."

"Right. Enough about that though, we're supposed to be enjoying dinner and not thinking about all that." Shawn says, lifting his menu. "Look, they have a Christmas dinner option. Ham, potatoes and all the fixings. Sounds good."

You nod and try to focus on the menu. It's hard. You can't help but feel nervous as the day comes to a close. One day until Christmas. At least you're not alone.

_____________________

Just after two in the morning you wake up to a severe weather alert on your phone. The signal must have connected enough for you to get one. Shawn's phone goes off too, loudly buzzing on his dresser.

"What's going on?" Shawn asks sleepily, arm falling to your waist as you sit up.

"It's a severe weather alert." You read the message on your phone. "Blizzard warning. High winds may cause power outages across the state. Below freezing temperatures are in effect, be advised if going outdoors."

"Shit." Shawn mumbles.

"Shit is right. We're not leaving this place."

He pushes you back down and you curl up facing the windows away from him. "We'll be alright."

"This sucks."

"Mmm. I promise I'll make it up to you. It's my fault we're out here because I didn't want to leave Brazil until the last minute. I ruined Christmas." He sighs.

"Shawn, stop. You didn't ruin anything."

He cuddles you against him and presses his nose into your hair. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

"I still feel guilty."

You grab his hand and he threads his fingers between yours. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, but I'm not very awake."

"Do you think we were meant to be here, together for Christmas?"

"Hmm?"

"Like...never mind."

Shawn yawns and doesn't press the subject. He relaxes into you, his weight comfortable against your back. You close your eyes, really enjoying this moment despite the impending knowledge of being stuck here for the holiday. You and Shawn fit together perfectly, maybe a little too perfectly.

_____________________

Shawn is gone again when you wake up in the morning. It's after eight and you know you should get up and go get breakfast, but you aren't hungry. It's Christmas Eve. You don't want to get up.

The bedroom door opens and Shawn walks in, bundled up and carrying a bag full of wrapped gifts. "Good morning."

"Morning. What's that?" You point to the gifts and Shawn grins sheepishly.

"Presents."

"For?"

"You?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Why do you have presents for me?"

Shawn sets the bag down by the tree and unwraps his scarf from around his face. "Everyone deserves gifts on Christmas day. And since we're going to be stuck here, I figured we should make our own Christmas."

"You're not sad you can't get home?"

"I was, but I talked to my dad this morning. He said that Christmas is what you make it, whether that be with family, friends or your pets. He said that they will miss me, but he doesn't want me to fret over it. We can do Christmas whenever I get home." Shawn hangs his coat and kicks off his boots. "I'm lucky, because I have you and I'm not alone."

"I guess you're right. We are together in the same boat."

"Yep. So let's make the best of it."

"I suppose I should get up and go shop for you now huh?"

"You could. But let's have some breakfast first." Shawn holds his hand out for you. "Come on, there is cinnamon roll pancakes with your name on them."

"There is?"

"Mmm. I talked to the kitchen staff this morning. They said they would make them special since we're some of the few guests left at the inn." Shawn bites his lip. "I know they're your favorite."

"You're sweet." You curl your fingers around his hand and he lifts you up out of bed. "Too sweet."

Shawn hugs you tight. "You deserve it."

_____________________

Breakfast is amazing. The kitchen crew out did themselves with the cinnamon pancakes with sweet icing for you. Shawn ordered just eggs and bacon but they're also super good. Even the coffee is better than before.

Shawn reaches out and swipes some icing off your lip with his thumb. "Do you like me?"

"What? Of course." Your heart sinks, stomach churning. You know he doesn’t mean in a general way. "Why?"

"I mean, as more than your friend or job...whatever. I've just been thinking. The last few days have been some of the best I've had and-" He looks away, flushed. "And you and I have been kind of flirting a lot? Unless I've been reading this completely wrong."

"You like me?"

"Of course I like you." He looks back and fidgets with his fork. "You and I have had a vibe since you joined the team. I think I've been too nervous to admit it before now. I was too scared to shoot my shot."

You grab Shawn's hand and make him stop tapping his fork on the table. "Calm down. I like you a lot. A whole lot."

"Yeah?" He grins, chewing on his lip.

"Yes."

"Good, because I don't want to stop sharing a bed with you any time soon. You’ve spoiled me the last few days. I don't think I've slept this well since before the tour started." He chuckles to himself. "Remember when I promised you on the plane that as soon as we landed I'd find you a date?"

You giggle and he lines his hand up with yours on the table, palms together, his fingers curling over the top of yours slightly. "Yes?"

"Do you want to go out with me tonight?"

"But there is a blizzard warning."

Shawn looks around the dining room. "We can stay here, I can get hot cocoa and cookies from the kitchen. We can watch a movie or something." His fingers slot between yours and you squeeze his hand. "We can stay up until midnight like kids on Christmas."

"Alright." You smile softly and he looks back just as soft. "Let's do it."

_____________________

At midnight you and Shawn exchange gifts, not all of them, just one each. You had gone out and shopped at a small store in town that had all sorts of things for the holidays. You picked out a few things for Shawn, just little memorable trinkets. One is a keychain so you never forget this holiday and it says first Christmas, Iowa. It's cheesy but you don't care. The next gift you grabbed was a paracord bracelet the store had by the registers. It's black with a red stripe down the middle. You couldn't pass it up. Shawn loves his accessories and especially if they mean something or are a gift.

Shawn hands you a small box wrapped in brown paper first. "Merry Christmas."

You turn it over and give him a look. "What is this?"

"Open it and see."

You tear off the brown paper and open up the box. Inside is a little sparkly rose charm on a gold chain. "This is so cute." You lift it out and it is so ornate and delicate. "Where did you get this?"

"It's a secret." He smirks.

"Mmhmm. You did not buy this here.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Oh yeah? I have access to your bank account remember? I swore I wouldn’t use it for ill intent but...and you told me you’d never lie to me when we first met.”

“Fine, I did promise you that. I got it before we left Brazil. I was going to give it to you at the airport.”

“Thank you.” You curl your hand around it and smile. “Your turn." You hand him a tiny bag with the bracelet in it.

Shawn opens it and slips it on. "I love it."

"I thought you might. I didn’t get you something cool in Brazil....and I know it's not much but-"

Shawn leans forward and kisses you, hand resting against your neck. Your eyes go wide and he pulls back.

"W-what was that about?"

"Look up."

You tilt your head back and see there is mistletoe hanging over the area in front of the fireplace where you're sat with Shawn. It was definitely not there earlier. "When did that happen?"

"I told you I'd get you back." He smirks and it dawns on you. The other day in the living room, the mistletoe.

"You put that there." You laugh and he cups your cheek. "You...you put that there?"

"I did." He leans in and you take a deep breath. "And I did it because I needed some Christmas magic to give me the courage to do this." He presses his lips to yours once more and you slide your hand into his hair.

"Merry Christmas Shawn."

"Merry Christmas."

End

______________________

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

Text

One Night in Milwaukee

David/Patrick, 4700 words, A03

A little angsty-with-a-happy-ending, h/c one-shot. Happy Friday!

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

*****

The announcement at the gate is almost impossible to understand, but David gets the gist anyway. His flight to Toronto is cancelled, and no further flights will be leaving until at least tomorrow morning.

He immediately starts searching on his phone for a nearby hotel, wishing he had bitten the bullet and done so hours ago. It’s nearly midnight and he’s exhausted, having spent the best part of six hours in the Milwaukee airport as his connecting flight got delayed again and again. He’s just about to reserve a room when a nearby airline employee is accosted by an impatient couple. David stands up and drifts close enough to listen in – at least her words are clearer than those coming over the PA system.

Apparently due to the blizzard many roads are impassable, and passengers are being encouraged not to leave the airport. Even if they make it to a hotel, the airline employee explains, they will almost certainly have trouble returning in the morning. She encourages the couple to stay at the airport overnight if getting out on a flight tomorrow morning is their goal.

David sighs, grabs his bag, and makes his way over to the long line of passengers hoping to rebook their flights for the next day. He’s reached that state of tiredness when he can’t even focus on things around him. He doesn’t even bother scrolling through his phone, he just tunes out and shuffles forward until his turn comes.

It’s not as if it even matters if he gets to Toronto tonight, or tomorrow. There’s no one waiting at home for him, no one who will care if when he gets home. It’s been more than three years since he’s had anyone like that. Three years since he lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

David’s done the best he can to keep busy, now that the initial period of paralyzing depression is in his rear view. He works out, and keeps up with current events, and stays out of bars. He lives in Toronto, someplace familiar enough to be comfortable, yet completely bare of memories of Patrick.

For the past few weeks he’s been hanging out with Alexis at her condo in Brooklyn. She had decided to throw a party for American Thanksgiving, which David thought was actually in poor taste but somehow didn’t manage to convey to Alexis until the day before. In the end they cooked a bunch of food and donated it to a homeless shelter so he figures they did okay. It had been good to spend time with his sister, but she is busy with her job and her friends and eventually David had to head back home, which brought him to this endless stopover in Milwaukee.

David tries his best to be civil as he is tentatively booked onto an 8:35 a.m. flight the next morning.

“Thanks for flying with us,” the perky gate attendant says as she hands him his new ticket. “Please make your way to the lobby. This area will be closing soon.”

David blinks at her, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Please make your way to the lobby, sir. Passengers can’t remain by the gates overnight.”

David shakes his head and steps away as the next impatient customer pushes forward, and the woman’s instruction soon becomes clear. Everyone at the gates is being herded away, back out past security and to the much smaller lobby area. So not only does he have to spend the night in the Milwaukee airport, he’s got to fight for a chair again. Fantastic.

Miraculously David manages to find an empty spot at the end of a row, near a chilly expanse of glass with a view of the storm outside. He flops down with his bag next to him and stares for a while, not able to see much except swirling flakes illuminated by the flood lights on the tarmac.

After a while David drapes his leather jacket over his head to block out the evil florescent overheads and leans back, trying to doze off. He knows it’s going to be next to impossible to sleep like this, but he’s got nothing better to do. He vaguely notices someone approaching him, looking for a place to sit, and he tugs his bag off the empty seat next to him so the man can sit down. David may not be a nice person, but he’s not a complete asshole.

A nice person. Once upon a time, there was someone nice who cared about David, and who David cared about more than he ever thought possible. It was like something out of a fairy tale, right up until the end. David’s still not sure what happened, but the outcome was clear enough – Patrick was tired of him, and so that was that. No fiancé, no wedding, no happy ending in Schitt’s Creek. Rosebud Motel Group bought out Patrick’s share of Rose Apothecary, and David moved the store closer to Toronto, where it slowly became just a source for toiletries for the motel chain. Eventually the physical location closed, and David’s role dwindled to almost nothing.

It’s been more than three years, but his heart still aches when he thinks about Patrick. He can still hear his voice in his head, giving him shit or whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Bizarrely, it’s at that very moment when he hears Patrick’s voice again, and it’s most decidedly not in his head.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

David sits up, his jacket sliding on to his lap, and his jaw drops. Sitting right next to him, taking an orange polyester blanket from an airline employee, is Patrick. He’s got a hoodie pulled up on his head over a ball cap, but it’s obviously him.

“Oh my god,” David breathes out, feeling his stomach fall. This can’t be happening.

“David?” Patrick turns to him. “Oh. Wow. What are the odds?”

“What – what are you doing here?”

Patrick is in the Milwaukee airport, backpack on the floor by his legs. It’s no mystery what he’s doing here. But David’s brain refuses to process this.

“My flight was cancelled.” Patrick fidgets with his hat, not really looking at David.

“But why are you sitting here?”

Again, not a mystery. The whole lobby is packed. David needs to get a grip and stop asking stupid questions. But he’ll need to work himself up to something more on point. He still can’t get over the fact that Patrick Brewer is sitting next to him.

“Um, right. I’m sorry.” Patrick leans forward to grab his bag. “I’ll, um, go somewhere else.”

Patrick stands up, and a nearby man spots him, vulture-like and poised to take his chair if he moves away. There’s not another free seat in sight.

“No,” David chokes out. “No, stay. It’s all right.”

“Yeah?” Patrick glances quickly at David and then away again, his shoulders practically up by his ears. “Okay. Thanks.”

David focuses on his breathing and presses his face into his hands, hoping Patrick doesn’t notice how close he is to freaking out. It’s unlikely, but you never know. If he does notice, at least he probably won’t call him out on it.

“I’m sorry, David. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Or maybe he will.

“I’m fine.”

“I really can leave, there’s a spot against the wall over there-”

“Patrick, for fuck’s sake, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Can I get you something? I’ve got some water…”

Unbelievable. “I’m sorry, you can sit here, but if you think there’s anything you can do to make this better, you’re out of your mind.” David can hear how shrill he is, but he can’t help it.

“Whatever. It’s not as if I ever knew how to fix us in the first place.”

“It’s not like you tried.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Patrick says, nearly shouting.

“Um, excuse me, but some people are trying to sleep, man,” a kid in a beanie sitting across the aisle from them interjects. “You should try it.”

“Eat dirt,” David hisses, and Patrick, that bastard, laughs.

“What?”

“You’re a riot, David. Sue me.”

David huffs and twists his body away. He’s not sure how to do this, have an ordinary conversation with Patrick in an airport. All the anger and hurt he thought he had handled is suddenly back, as painful as ever.

A few minutes later there’s a crinkling sound. “Want some?”

Patrick is holding a piece of red licorice in front of his face.

David blinks, disbelieving. Patrick wiggles the licorice. “Fine.” David accepts it and takes a bite, hoping he’s chewing in a sufficiently dignified way.

“Did you have a nice visit with Alexis?”

David frowns. “How do you know I was visiting Alexis?” Alexis had closed ranks against Patrick when it all went down. David had thought it appropriate at the time, but something in Patrick’s voice tweaks a pang of regret.

“You smell like her.”

“Ew, what?”

“Her perfume.” Patrick shrugs. “I recognize it. Or maybe you’re dating someone who wears it, I don’t know.”

“I’m not.” As if. “Guess I spent too long on Alexis’ couch.” He brushes at the leather jacket on his lap, as if little bits of Alexis would be clinging to it.

“How is she?”

Again, that pang. “Good. She’s good. She’s happy in New York. She’s got friends – real friends. Not that she didn’t before, you know, back in-” David can hardly say it, but Patrick nods. “But now she’s got real friends in New York, so.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Patrick says.

“What about you? How long have you been away? Work or pleasure?”

Something comes over Patrick’s face that David can’t describe. “Well, it definitely wasn’t pleasure.”

The conversation comes to an expectedly awkward end, both of them falling silent. There’s a group of people behind them who keep arguing over whether they should rent a car and drive to what seems to be a college reunion of some sort. David wishes they’d just go already.

“Want some more?” Patrick offers up another piece of licorice, and suddenly making nice isn’t working for David anymore.

“You can’t fix this with candy, Patrick. Bribes don’t make up for cheating.”

David can feel Patrick bristling next to him. “I didn’t cheat, David,” he hisses. “I told you, you just wouldn’t listen. If you want to keep believing it that’s on you, but I absolutely did not cheat. I would never do that to you.”

“You wanted to.”

“I did not!”

“Shhhh,” the woman on the other side of Patrick entreats. “We don’t care.”

David angrily bites off another piece of licorice. “You told me Mark was just a guy you met at the community center, and then all of a sudden he’s in the store when I’m not there.”

“We needed someone else to work on busy days when you had vendor visits – we agreed on that. I was training him!”

“You never told me. And when I came in-”

“He was just helping me put some boxes away.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this discussion again,” David says, tears welling in his eyes. He remembers the moment like it was yesterday, coming into the back room and finding Patrick with a tall, slim, dark-haired stranger, the man reaching up around Patrick, pressing him into the shelves.

“What do you mean again? We never had it in the first place. You came in, screamed at me, and left. You never let me explain.”

“What kind of explanation would you have given me? What could you possibly say? You’d been out every night that week with lame excuses, you kept finding reasons to avoid me, and then I find you with someone else.”

“David…” Patrick takes in a long, deep breath, and lets it out again. “David. I was out so much because I was planning your birthday party.”

David stares at him. “That’s impossible. Stevie would have told me. Or Alexis.”

“I didn’t tell Stevie, or anyone in Schitt’s Creek. I didn’t want them to give it away. Mark was actually helping me. His family has an orchard out near Elm Valley, with an outdoor pavilion that was really pretty nice. I was thinking about having it there so I drove over to see it after work. Unfortunately, the first time I went, it started raining, so I went back the next night. Mark said there was a spectacular sunset view, but I wanted to see it for myself.”

“That’s… that’s only two nights. What about the others?”

“It was only two nights, David. Maybe my excuses weren’t that great, but it was only two nights. The rest of them we spent together just like always.”

David lets himself really look at Patrick, who is looking right back at him. He seems, possibly, just as hurt and miserable as David feels. Maybe more.

“It seemed like more than two,” David says pathetically. “Why, um, why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“You blocked my number.”

It’s true. Not his most mature moment. “Oh.”

“I would have thought,” Patrick starts, and then shakes his head and presses his fingers to his mouth.

“What?”

“No, forget it. It’s history now, right?” Patrick tugs his ball cap down, shading his eyes.

“What were you going to say?”

Patrick wrings his hands together, then glances up at David and then back at his hands. “Just that, you know, in the context of everything we meant to each other, given that we were in love, and engaged, that you might have cut me a break and listened to me instead of jumping to such a ridiculous conclusion.”

“Ridiculous?” David scoffs, trying not to let Patrick’s all too valid words sink in. “Hardly. It’s no different than how every relationship I’ve been in has ended. I’m always left behind. Too much. I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did.”

“David.” Patrick grabs his hands, and David stiffens. “You were never too much for me. I’m not everyone else. And I didn’t leave you behind. You left me.”

David feels a rush of shame, and Patrick just squeezes his hands tighter. It’s not as if he’s never wondered if he hadn’t screwed up, leaving the way he did. He knows he probably did. It’s just that it’s striking him now how very likely it is that his misery has been almost entirely of his own making.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don’t deserve to believe that I would do that to you.”

David tugs his hands out of Patrick’s. “Well, I’m sure you’re better off now anyway.”

“Not even a little.” Patrick’s voice is soft and sad, and David can’t help meeting his eyes. What he sees is devastating. “Sure, I dated for a while, once I was able to get out of bed, but I gave it up after a few disasters. You spoiled me for anyone else.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Maybe it’s just that my heart was so thoroughly broken, no ordinary guy had a chance.” The silence stretches, and then Patrick says, his voice thready, “How about you?”

There’s a catch in his voice, but something in his tone makes David’s heart skip a beat. It’s an opening he never expected.

“I never met anyone else either. Didn’t even try.” David clears his throat and looks up, catching Patrick’s gaze. For all the fear he’s shown in the past, for all that his insecurities ruined them, David feels like he owes Patrick a moment of bravery. “There was no point, not when I’m still in love with you.”

Patrick stares at him, eyes wide, and then abruptly stands up. “Save my seat,” he says, and strides away, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

“Well, maybe now I get can some sleep,” the rude kid with the beanie grumbles, and David barely restrains himself from throwing something at him.

“We’re having a moment, here,” David says.

“Might go better if you fucking apologized,” the kid replies, pulling his orange airline blanket up over his head.

“He’s got a point.” The woman on the other side of Patrick’s seat gives David a pointed look that would put Ronnie Lee to shame. “Sounds like you really messed up.”

“Who are you, anyway?” David snaps.

“Audrey. Nice to meet you, David,” the woman sasses back, tossing her short black hair.

“Oh my god.” David stands up, arms wrapped tight around his body, and scans the lobby for Patrick. “He probably just went to the bathroom. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“I hope for your sake you’re right,” Audrey replies. “But if you want to go look for him, I’ll keep an eye on your stuff. There’s no way I’m falling asleep in this place. Too noisy.”

David looks her up and down, and then decides he doesn’t care whether she steals his bag. There’s more at stake here than an aging laptop. “Thanks.”

He weaves his way through the seating area, stepping around families sleeping on the floor and people stretched out in every available space. He shudders to think about putting his face anywhere near the carpet and the plethora of germs that must live there. He’ll never be that tired.

There’s a food court around the corner, all the restaurants closed with metal gates drawn down. It’s darker here, and quiet. The scattered tables and chairs are mostly empty, the metal furniture not particularly conducive to sleeping.

Patrick’s standing in front of the Cinnabon.

“They open at 5,” he says, not looking at David. “Only four hours to go.”

“Good to know.” David moves closer, trying to see Patrick’s face, but between the dim lighting and the way Patrick keeps ducking his head, he can’t see much.

“Look, Patrick. I, um, I know it’s probably too late, but.” David leans his head back and blinks up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. I should have trusted you.”

Patrick shrugs. “Yeah. You should have.”

David sucks on his lip, not sure where to go from here. “Maybe we could talk about it?” This sounds like torture, but he doesn’t see too many other options, and they’re already in hell.

Patrick nods, and David tries to tell himself that this is a good sign. He spots a nearby open table and reaches to pull Patrick towards it, but he has barely grasped Patrick’s arm when he flinches and pulls away.

“Patrick?” David moves closer. Patrick’s eyes are squeezed together in pain.

“Patrick, wait, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” David’s hands flutter towards Patrick’s shoulders, afraid to cause further distress.

“No, sorry, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” Patrick turns away, but now David sees how stiffy he’s holding himself, how the puffiness in his face probably isn’t just due to airport overheating. All of David’s anger and hurt flow out of him, replaced by an urgent concern. Something isn’t right.

“Patrick,” David says, as calmly as he can. “Come sit down with me?”

Patrick glances at him and nods, and lets David lead them over to a table.

They sit next to each other, Patrick’s whole body radiating discomfort. David forces himself to wait, to breathe. To give Patrick a moment. “Sweetheart,” he says finally, the endearment purposeful and honest, “what happened?”

Patrick takes in a long breath and lets it out. “I was attacked.” He’s speaking softly but steadily, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “Three nights ago, coming out of a bar with my cousin Jamie. He’s only nineteen-” Patrick’s voice breaks and he sucks in air, then goes on. “He wasn’t hurt, thank god. He got away. But I-” Patrick huffs a bitter laugh. “I got a little banged up.”

Patrick turns towards David, sliding his hoodie off of his head and removing his hat. There’s a dark purple bruise on his temple, and a bandage running from the top right corner of his forehead back to his ear.

“Oh my god, Patrick,” David reaches for him, then stops himself. “Where – where else, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Couple of broken ribs, bruises,” Patrick indicates his right side and upper arm. “Eight stitches my on head.”

“Come here, come here,” David can’t help himself, he walks his fingers onto Patrick’s shoulders and eases him in. Patrick sags into the embrace, his face nestling into that space against David’s neck that used to belong only to him. “I’m so sorry, Patrick, I’m so sorry.” David holds him gently, rubbing his back with careful strokes. He feels like his heart is going to burst. Patrick sniffles into David’s neck, trying not to cry, and David circles his arms around him. “I’ve got you,” David soothes. “You’re okay.”

David doesn’t ever want to let Patrick go, but after a minute or so Patrick starts to pull back, and David has no choice. He lets his fingers skim down Patrick’s arms as he straightens up.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says into the awkward silence.

“Yeah, well. After screwing everything else up, seems like the least I can do.” David looks around and stands up, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Shall we go back and make sure Audrey hasn’t stolen our bags?”

“Who’s Audrey?”

David can’t help but stay near Patrick as they make their way to their seats, his hand on the small of his back. Patrick lets him, leaning into his side, a hundred and eighty degree reversal from where they were an hour ago.

He can’t imagine what Patrick is feeling. Despite all the crap David has gone through in his life, he’s never been the victim of a what he assumes was a hate crime. And the fact that Patrick is traveling by himself… where was he when he got assaulted? Who was there for him?

You should have been there, David’s guilty mind supplies. If David hadn’t ruined their lives with his self-doubt, he would have been there for Patrick. For better or for worse. Of course, if they were still together, nothing like this would have happened to Patrick in the first place, because they would have been safe in Schitt’s Creek where they belonged.

They arrange themselves in their miraculously still empty seats, David pulling the orange blanket up over them both. He holds out his arm and Patrick leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder. Patrick’s seated to his right, so it’s his uninjured left side up against David.

The feel of Patrick’s body against his is so familiar and yet it’s been so long, it makes David want to cry. Instead he gently curls himself protectively around Patrick’s body and closes his eyes.

Patrick turns into him, his arm going around David’s waist and his face pressing against his neck. “Missed you,” he whispers into David’s skin.

“You too,” David sighs into Patrick’s hair. “So much, Patrick. So much.”

David dozes for a while and eventually falls asleep, waking only when the PA system starts making incomprehensible flight announcements. Patrick is already awake, leaning forward and digging around in his backpack.

David blinks blearily at him as he remembers the events of the night before. It seems like a dream, but Patrick is right there in front of him, solid and real. He glances up at the clock on the wall. Five-fifteen. “Wanna get a Cinnabon?” he asks, his voice scratchy. It’s not the best line he could have come up with, but he figures Patrick must be hungry too.

“No, sorry, they said my flight’s here. I have to go to the gate.”

David suddenly feels faint. “What – no – that’s impossible. The first flight to Toronto isn’t until eight something, they put me on the earliest one, that’s what they told me at the desk-”

“David.” Patrick’s eyes are heavy and sad. “I’m not going to Toronto.”

“But you said-” He didn’t say, David realizes. He just assumed they were both on their way back home.

“It happened in Toronto,” Patrick says, not needing to identify what “it” he’s referring to as he tugs the hood of his sweatshirt over his ball cap. “I decided I needed to get away for a while. Put some distance between me and all that.”

David’s heart is pounding hard in his chest. It’s a wonder Patrick can’t hear it. “Where are you going?”

“Florida. My parents bought a little house there, they use it in the winter but not until after Christmas, so it’s empty now.” Patrick sighs and hoists his backpack up, wincing. “It’s been really good to see you, David.”

Patrick gives David a sad little smile, and starts walking away.

There’s a moment when David actually imagines letting Patrick go, and he wants to slap himself silly.

“Patrick, wait.” He scrambles to grab his bag and jogs after him. “Let me come with you.”

Patrick looks puzzled as they join the line of bleary-eyed people waiting to take off their shoes and slide their belongings through the scanner. “Okay, but once you go through you won’t be able to get to the food court.”

“No, Patrick – I mean to Florida.”

“You hate Florida,” Patrick replies automatically.

“That is entirely besides the point.”

“You can’t come with me. You have a life, David.”

“Patrick, I don’t. Not one I want. Not without you.”

This gets Patrick’s attention, and he steps out of the line. “What are you talking about?

David moves towards him, his whole body trembling. “I am so, so sorry I messed things up between us. I know how badly I hurt you. I have changed, though, I’ve been in therapy for real, and I’ll do whatever it takes…” He sucks in a breath and races on before Patrick can interrupt. “I will regret it forever, what I did to you, and it’s probably unforgivable. But if – if you think it’s not, if you think maybe you could give me another chance, please, let me come with you.”

“David…”

“I won’t give up on us again. And I don’t… I don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet.” David can feel his throat tightening up. “Not if there’s any possibility… Let’s try. On whatever terms you want, for however long. Please.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” But Patrick’s eyes are saying what his words aren’t, and David holds his gaze, hope building in his chest.

“I think it’s the only decent idea I’ve had in years.” David reaches out and twines his index finger around Patrick’s, a single point of contact holding them together. “I bet we can find someplace to go hiking in Florida. With lots of bugs, and, um, maybe alligators?”

Patrick’s eyes flicker down to their hands, and back up to David. “You’d face alligators for me?”

“Yes.”

“And bugs too?”

David feels his heart leap, and he struggles not to smile. “Yes. I will face a reasonable number of bugs for you.” He takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to mean we’re together, you don’t have to commit to anything-”

“What if I want to?”

David pulls Patrick’s hand up and presses it tight against his chest. “Then I’m not going to argue with you,” David says breathlessly.

“That would be a first,” Patrick says, and David chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

They crash together lips first, David’s arms going around Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick’s hands grabbing at David’s hips. David can’t get enough, and apparently neither can Patrick, mouths open and tongues tasting in a mad rush. It’s sloppy and ridiculous and David is going to remember it for the rest of his life. When they finally come up for air, they realize that everyone in the security line is cheering and clapping, and David rests his forehead against Patrick’s.

“They’re taking video, aren’t they,” David says.

“Hashtag ‘one night in Milwaukee,’” Audrey hoots at them as she takes off her boots and sets them in a plastic bin. “Glad you got your head out of your ass, David.”

“Me too,” says Patrick, herding David back towards the screening line. “Just promise me one thing.”

David searches Patrick’s face, but he’s smiling, and he can’t help a matching smile from stretching his own cheeks. “Anything.”

“Pretty sure our flight’s going to be packed. I get the window seat.”

#David x Patrick #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #Hurt/Comfort #David Rose #Patrick Brewer

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cdelphiki · 5 years ago

Text

There Are Worse Ways to Spend Christmas

Honestly, holiday travel was the worst, in Tim’s opinion. The absolute worst thing on the face of the planet, and an all around terrible way to spend time right around Christmas.

Between crowded airports, snobby entitled irate passengers, and frequent weather cancellations, traveling during December was probably the worst thing ever.

And yes, that was very much exaggerating, because Tim’s mind immediately supplied several things that had happened that year that beat flying near Christmas in the ‘terrible’ category, but he just wasn’t in a good mood, so he was going to be dramatic about it.

Bruce wanted the lot of them to meet up at the cabin in Colorado to have a nice, quiet Christmas with just the family. Which, on paper, sounded nice. Christmas with all the kids plus Alfred and Bruce, far away from Gotham and the social engagements they’d be expected to attend otherwise sounded incredibly relaxing.

But that was before Tim processed that he’d have to fly with Damian, commercial, to Colorado to meet up with everyone else.

Why?

Because his family hated him, obviously.

The private plane was currently in Japan, where Bruce and Alfred were finishing up a series of meetings at the Tokyo office, and since it would be bringing them to Colorado that day, it was unavailable to bring Damian and Tim, the only two left in Gotham so close to Christmas, to Colorado. Stupid school lasting until the Friday right before Christmas Eve, which was on a Monday that year, meant they couldn’t have just left early to allow the jet to bring them all.

No.

Tim Drake and Damian Wayne had to fly commercial. On Christmas Eve eve.

First class, of course, but on small little regional jets, first class was a paltry comparison to the comfort to which they were accustomed. And the whole “unaccompanied minor” thing was really grating at Tim’s nerves. Because Damian wasn’t unaccompanied. Tim was right there. He was 16, and according to the airline’s policy, that made Damian accompanied. But that didn’t stop the stupid flight attendants from being extra attentive.

At least they were being left relatively alone during their layover in Chicago.

Which was how Tim found himself curled up into one of the kind-of comfortable waiting chairs near their gate, playing a game on his iPad, completely ignoring his little brother. It was the most peace he’d had all day. He could still see Damian over his knees. Kind of. Saw his spiky hair in the next seat over, at least, so he wasn’t being entirely neglectful.

But Damian wasn’t bothering him. Wasn’t trying to pick a fight or release his frustrations on Tim, so Tim was going to enjoy every single second of it.

Then, of course, the gate agent had to ruin the entire night.

“Attention passengers, Flight 1029 to Aspen has been delayed,” she announced over the speaker, and Tim couldn’t make out the rest of her announcement over the loud chorus of groans from everyone around them. Because the flight was supposed to begin boarding in about 10 minutes.

His phone buzzed with a notification from the American Airlines app, which informed him that it was delayed by three hours.

“This is ridiculous,” Damian pouted, hitting Tim’s legs with his coat as he slung it off himself to stand, “the third weather delay today. You would think airlines would be used to flying in the snow. It’s not like it doesn’t happen every year.”

“It’s one of those dumb named storms,” Tim said, scrolling through the weather report in Aspen to see if in three hours it would be any better, “it’s basically a blizzard.”

“That does not change my opinion,” Damian drawled, rolling his eyes as he stared out the window directly behind Tim.

“So because hurricanes happen every year, pilots should know how to fly through those? Get real, Damian.”

“Tt. It’s just snow.”

“Snow and wind and zero visibility,” Tim said, flipping to the Hilton app to reserve a room at the airport’s hotel. The weather report wasn’t looking good, and he had a feeling that the flight would be outright cancelled. If that happened, he wanted a room in the airport. He’d rather not deal with crowded shuttles to an off-site hotel once the airport finally cancelled all the flights to the areas being assaulted by Winter-storm Fisher.

Seriously, why the hell did they name snowstorms now?

Tim reserved the room under Bruce’s name, because it would be impossible otherwise to get a room for a 10 and 16 year old. The hotel really didn’t need to know that Bruce wasn’t even in the country and wouldn’t be staying with them.

“Damian?” one of the gate agents said, as she approached the two of them in the waiting area, “So the flight has been delayed by-”

“Yes, three hours. We are aware,” Damian snapped, “As I keep telling you people, I do not require your hovering. My father did not request the unaccompanied minor service, so I do not see why you are providing it anyway.”

“We are just ensuring that-”

“I don’t care,” Damian said, waving a hand at the woman as he turned to gaze out the window again.

Tim just shrugged at the slightly flustered woman and offered a simple, “Sorry. We’re tracking though, thanks.”

“Tt. I am never flying commercial again.”

“Bold declaration for 10,” Tim said, just before he sighed and sat up. It was nearing 6pm. They should probably go grab dinner while they had the time, on the off chance that the flight actually did happen.

“I am a Wayne, if I want to fly exclusively by private jet, there is literally nothing stopping me.”

“Except Bruce hogging it,” Tim said, shoving his iPad and headphones into his carry-on. For the first time, he was so glad Alfred had convinced them to pack into carry-ons instead of with checked luggage. He enjoyed the freedom and ease of traveling with just a simple messenger bag to carry around, but knowing that they had their clothes and toothbrushes with them was a relief. They wouldn’t be buying ridiculous Chicago themed clothing tonight in one of the overpriced gift shops.

“What are you doing?” Damian asked, eyeing Tim as he slipped his boots back on and tied them.

Instead of answering, Tim asked, “Chili’s or the Macaroni Grill?” as he stood to his feet, attaching his coat to the top of his luggage.

Damian straightened up a bit, to Tim’s amusement, at the prospect of food and shuffled to gather up his items as well. “The Macaroni Grill,” he finally said, making a face at the suggestion of Chili’s.

Dinner went a lot smoother than Tim was expecting. In fact, the entire day until that point had gone smoother than he expected. Even with leaving for the airport at 5am and spending nearly every moment since together, the two of them really hadn’t fought much. Every once in a while Damian would make a scathing remark, but would then be quiet for at least half an hour after he did so.

It was nice.

“Why’re you being so good,” Tim asked over their pasta. They still had a little over two hours until boarding. Perhaps he shouldn’t be looking this gift horse in the mouth, but he was genuinely curious.

“I know how to behave in public, Drake,” Damian drawled, pushing around the last bits of his dinner on his plate before taking a sip of his soda.

Aside from the fact that Damian did not know how to behave in public, that really didn’t answer anything.

“Besides,” Damian continued, “our every move is being watched here, and Father told me if we get arrested by security for any reason he’s holding me personally responsible.”

“He did not,” Tim said, grinning wide.

Damian scowled at Tim and snapped, “That was not a challenge, Drake. I will inform Father if you sabotage our travel for the express purpose of getting me grounded.”

Tim just laughed and said, “Unlike you, I’m not a demon, I wouldn’t do that,” just as his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he saw Bruce’s face staring at him. “Speak of the devil,” Tim muttered as he slid to accept the call, “Hey Bruce.”

“I see your flight has been delayed again. How are you two holding up?”

“Let me talk to him,” Damian said, reaching out for the phone.

Tim swatted Damian’s hand away and said, “We’re fine. Annoyed, but we went ahead and got dinner. I know we were supposed to eat together there, but you know.”

“We had to land in Seattle and won’t attempt again until morning, anyway. Dick and Jason got in just before it started to snow, and Steph and Cass are still in the air, but I don’t think the flight will make it to Aspen. So most of us won’t get there until tomorrow, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m expecting American Airlines to just cancel to try again tomorrow,” Tim said, taking one last bite of his food, “so I booked us a hotel tonight just in case.”

“Let me know if you have trouble checking in. The storm is moving across the country toward you, I would not be surprised if O’Hare cancels flights tomorrow as the storm passes over you there.”

“Great,” Tim said dramatically, leaning back in his chair. Damian was just glaring at him expectantly, “Damian wants to talk to you.”

“Okay. Stay safe and just be patient. Delays and cancellations are better than plane crashes.”

“Yeah, thanks for that thought,” Tim said just as he handed the phone off to Damian.

“Father, I refuse to fly commercial ever again, this method of travel is-” Damian started, then paused and listened with a pinched face, “Yes, but- No. No.”

Tim tried his best not to look too amused as Damian went from smug and entitled to adequately chagrined as he listened silently to Bruce for a full minute. Bruce must have lectured him pretty hard.

“Fine. But I will not fly commercial at Christmas. This holiday is ridiculous and the number of people in this airport is unacceptable. Yes, Father. I will. Goodbye.”

“Sounds like you will be flying commercial again,” Tim said in amusement as he took his phone back and pulled a $100 out of his wallet to give to the waitress to cover their meal and her tip.

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian mumbled as he dragged his suitcase behind him in the most pout-filled way Tim had ever seen.

And that’s how the rest of the evening went. Silently as Damian pouted. As their departure time came and went without so much as a boarding call, Damian began getting antsy.

“This is the fourth time they’ve delayed us by 15 minutes,” he exclaimed after yet another announcement over the PA system, “this is unacceptable.”

“You know they’re going to cancel the flight, right?” Tim said, turning the page in a book he’d picked up in the airport bookstore, “We’ll probably sit here another 30 minutes while they continue deluding themselves about not cancelling a flight on Christmas Eve eve.”

Damian let out an angry growl, which just sounded like a child throwing a tantrum, and flung himself down on the chair next to Tim. “I hate this.”

“Take a nap,” Tim said as he pulled his coat out from the chair under him to let Damian use it as a pillow, “I’ll wake you when they decide what they’re doing.”

“I will not take a nap,” Damian pouted, “I’m not tired, just frustrated.”

“You’ve been awake since 4am, you’re tired.”

“So have you.”

“Yeah,” Tim said patiently, “but I took a nap after lunch, so.”

“I will not take a nap,” Damian repeated, aggressively grabbing Tim’s coat to lay against.

“That’s fine,” Tim hummed, trying not to smile as he continued reading.

“And Christmas Eve eve is not a thing,” Damian mumbled, burrowing himself down into Tim’s coat with his own wrapped around him, “stop being ridiculous.”

“Of course it’s a thing,” Tim said, lifting his feet up onto his suitcase so he could get settled back a little more comfortably, “It’s what today is.”

“Hmph.”

It took another 45 minutes, but finally the flight was outright cancelled. By that point, everyone was too exhausted to put up too much of a fuss, and the groans heard around the gate were more out of obligation than actual anger. Tim had heard several people all around him make arrangements for the night already, so this was clearly no surprise to anyone.

Tim took his time using the hotel’s app to “check in” before he began gathering up his things. He put his boots on and shoved his book and tablet back in his bag before he finally nudged Damian.

“Okay, Demon, nap’s over.”

“I was not napping,” Damian mumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up.

Tim grinned and liberated his coat out from under Damian. “No you’re right you were just resting your eyes.”

“Shut up, Drake.”

Checking in was remarkably easy. When Tim told the person at the desk that ‘his dad had checked in on the app,’ he was easily handed a couple keys to the room without a single question.

Tim took his time in the shower as Damian lay on one of the two beds in their room, watching the news report. When Tim finally emerged from the bathroom, Damian said, “Much of Colorado is without power right now, and the storm is expected to hit the midwest just as hard.”

“Well isn’t that just dandy,” Tim said as he dried off his hair, “you packed a toothbrush and stuff, right?”

“Yes, Drake, I am not incompetent.”

“Right, whatever. Take a shower if you’re going to, I’m going to sleep. The flight is scheduled for 8 so we need to get out of here absolutely no later than 7, preferably earlier. We’ll have to pass through security again.”

“I hate everything you just said.”

Sighing, Tim set his phone to wake him at 5:45 while he listened to Damian slam the bathroom door.

Being responsible for little children was just so fun.

Next thing Tim knew, his alarm was going off. He sat up to find Damian already awake and watching the Weather Channel on mute. It took blinking for a minute before he could make out the numerous notifications on his phone, but the one he had wanted to find the least was another delay notification.

Now the flight wasn’t going to attempt until 10.

“The storm hit early,” Damian said, glaring at the television as if it were responsible for everything going wrong in their travel.

“Well do you want to sleep in longer or get breakfast?” Tim asked, rubbing at his face. He’d enjoy sleeping more, but he had slept for a good 6 hours. It was certainly more than he was used to.

“Breakfast,” Damian said simply, “I was waiting for you to wake up so we could order room service.”

“We could go get something. There’s time now.”

“Look outside. I’d rather stay here where it’s warm and dry.”

“Right,” Tim said, picking up the room service menu. After he called in their order, he looked at the weather report for the day and went ahead and extended their stay one night. If this storm cancelled all flights leaving Chicago, it would be much more difficult to get a room. Bruce honestly wouldn’t care about spending the money unnecessarily if their flight really did take off at 10.

But of course, it didn’t. At just past 8, they received the notice that the flight was cancelled.

Bruce called again, within minutes of Tim getting the text, to check up on them and assure them that the family wouldn’t do Christmas until Tim and Damian made it to Aspen.

“I’ll come pick you up myself,” Bruce said over speaker, “The weather should be fine tomorrow, I’ll head to the airport and get you boys, okay?”

“Tt,” Damian pouted from where he lay on his bed, arms crossed and glaring at the ceiling, “If you ever suggest I travel alone with Drake again, I will return to Mother.”

“Ouch,” Tim said, “he’d rather live in a ninja death cult than travel with me.”

“Damian,” Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry, but we’ll extend our vacation out until after the New Year, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

“He’s pretending to ignore you,” Tim said, grinning at the scathing look Damian shot his way for the comment, “he’ll get over it.”

“The pilot wants me to turn my phone off, so I’ll text you when we land. How about we all FaceTime tonight, okay?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be good. Dick wanted us to watch The Polar Express tonight, we can always just do it while facetiming. I’m sure I can find a copy somewhere around here.

“Okay, Merry Christmas, boys. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve and I’m stuck in a snowstorm with you,” Damian said once Bruce had hung up, still glaring up at the ceiling.

Shrugging, Tim said, “There’s worse company.”

“Doubtful.”

“Don’t worry. Santa will still deliver your presents to the cabin tonight.”

That finally made Damian sit up, but only to throw a pillow at Tim. “Santa’s not real, Drake.”

“Now you’re ruining my Christmas,” Tim said, laughing, as he caught the pillow, “You’re probably on the naughty list, anyway.”

“Tt.”

“You’re not exactly good,” Tim continued, having fun now at Damian’s expense.

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian snapped, throwing another pillow at Tim.

“Or nice.”

“Shut up!”

“Actually, yeah,” Tim said, laying back on the bed, “there’s no way you’re not on the naughty list, now that I think about it.”

At that, Damian got up from his bed and stormed over to the bathroom, slamming the door as he went. Tim jumped at the loudness of it, then frowned.

He hadn’t meant to push the brat that far. He’d just been teasing. Having fun. Sometimes, Tim forgot for as much as Damian could dish it out, he couldn’t take teasing. At all.

It was easy to forget. Especially when they went a few days without fighting.

‘Help,’ Tim texted Dick, ‘made D mad. Probably crying in bathroom. What do?’

The response was almost instant. ‘You made Damian cry?! Tim, why??’

Tim sighed and responded with, ’I mean, maybe? I haven’t tried to listen in on him or anything. He might just be pouting.’

‘Did you try talking to him?’

‘Why would I do that?’ Tim asked, smiling at himself because he already knew what Dick’s response to that would be.

‘You want to fix it but you don’t want to talk to him.’ And Tim could just see the flat stare Dick would have while delivering that sentence. Hear the deadpan in his voice.

Tim snorted. ‘Precisely. Glad you understand.’

‘Tim.’

‘Yeah, fine. Good big brother, coming up.’

After another minute, Tim finally got up and trudged over to the bathroom door. When he knocked, he could tell something was pressed up against the door, and was willing to bet his entire salary that it was pint sized and 10-years-old.

“Hey D? I was just teasing, you know.”

“Go away, Drake,” Damian hissed from the other side of the door.

So he wasn’t crying, at least. That’s good.

“Uh yep, nope. Can’t,” Tim said, sitting down on the floor outside the door, “The room isn’t big enough.”

Tim could just barely hear Damian’s signature ’tt’ in response.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you,” Tim offered, unsure of where to start. Or how to even do this. He’d been the little brother being talked down, never the older brother doing the talking down.

“Weren’t you?” Damian drawled.

“No, I wasn’t,” Tim said, resting his head back against the door, “I was just teasing you, that’s what brothers do to each other. They tease. You should know, you tease me constantly.”

“I do not tease you.”

Tim rolled his eyes and said, “No, of course not. You just make fun of me in hopes of getting a rise out of me. That’s totally not the definition of tease.”

“Then you admit you were trying to upset me.”

“Fine. I’m sorry, Damian,” Tim said tiredly, and perhaps a little too flippantly in his tone, “I shouldn’t have said that stuff, okay? You’re probably on Santa’s nice list. He’ll bring you presents tonight.”

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian snapped, banging something against the door. His elbow, perhaps. “I do not care about that ridiculous tradition.”

“If you aren’t upset about me saying you’re on the naughty list, then why are you upset?”

“I have been very good the past couple days,” Damian nearly shouted, “and the past year. I have worked so hard to behave myself and be what you and everyone in Father’s family would consider good. But at every turn, everyone, especially you, completely ignores all my actions and efforts and writes me off as a ‘bad person.’ I am sick of it.”

Tim blinked and ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t… writing you off,” he said lamely, “I was just teasing you about Santa. I know you’ve been good.”

“Then why would you say I’m not?” Damian demanded.

“It was just a joke,” Tim said, a bit more forcefully this time, “it’s just what you do at Christmas with kids. You tease them about Santa and being on the naughty list. Did the league not do Santa?”

Damian huffed out an annoyed breath and said, “The league didn’t do Christmas. So no, we didn’t ‘do Santa.’”

“You… didn’t do Christmas?” Tim said, in almost a whisper. He really wasn’t sure if Damian could even hear him. “So wait,” he added, much louder, “is this your first Christmas then?”

“Yes,” Damian bit out before slamming his head back against the door. At least, Tim as pretty sure that’s what Damian hit the door with.

“Does Bruce know this?”

After a long moment, Damian sighed and said, in a much calmer tone, “Maybe. I do not know what Father knows.”

“You should have told him,” Tim said softly, like he was talking to a victim as Robin, “He would have cancelled his meetings in Japan, I bet.”

“I don’t see how it would have mattered. It was my first Christmas here, regardless of everything, and he still left me with you.”

“Well,” Tim said, “In his defense, we were supposed to see him yesterday, so this isn’t entirely his fault.”

“I guess,” Damian said, softer than Tim had ever heard the child’s voice be.

The two of them sat there for another few minutes while Tim just frowned at the closet door in front of him. The annoying closet door that was actually a full sized mirror. So basically, Tim was staring back at himself, looking right at the terrible person he was. That he’d been over the past couple days.

Thinking back over their travel time, Damian really had been good. He’d been trying really hard to keep it that way, even when Tim teased and poked at him, or just flat out ignored him. And all because he didn’t want Bruce angry with him over his behavior. Which, usually wasn’t an issue for Damian. He never seemed to care when Bruce threatened him with grounding.

And Tim had barely acknowledged the effort.

Was Damian just trying to stay on Bruce’s good side because it was Christmas? Because he wanted a happy Christmas, just like how the holiday was always depicted in media?

Damian was only 10, after all, and all he had to go on was television.

Tim felt the bathroom door open behind him and leaned forward a bit to prevent from falling back. Damian stood in the doorway and glared at Tim using the mirror before saying, half-heartedly, “Move, Drake.”

“So if you’ve never celebrated Christmas before,” Tim said slowly as he got to his feet, “that means you’ve never done a Christmas movie marathon.”

“Thankfully,” the little brat drawled as he pushed past Tim into the bedroom.

“What Christmas movies have you already seen?” Tim asked, completely ignoring Damian’s likely feigned disinterest.

Flopping down dramatically onto his bed, Damian said, “What part of ‘first Christmas’ don’t you understand?”

“So you’ve never seen any Christmas movies?” Tim asked in exaggerated horror.

Damian just shrugged.

“Frosty the Snowman?” Tim asked, and when Damian shook his head, he said, “Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer? How the Grinch Stole Christmas?”

“No, Tim,” Damian exasperated, “none of them.”

“Oh my god,” Tim said, “Okay. That’s what we’re doing today. Starting with The Year Without a Santa.”

“Whatever.”

After a quick trip to one of the shops in the airport to purchase candy canes and a ridiculous amount of candy and cookies, because no Christmas movie marathon would be complete without a coma-inducing amount of sugar, Tim started up a playlist of all his favorite Christmas movies on his laptop.

Four movies into the marathon, Damian said from where he lay beside Tim on the bed, “These are ridiculous, you know?”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Tim said, opening another bag of Oreos for them to devour. Alfred would have a heart-attack if he knew they skipped lunch and were going to skip dinner in favor of cookies. Store bought cookies.

“I suppose,” Damian said as he took a couple cookies from the bag between them, “there are worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.”

Tim didn’t even have to look to know Damian was smiling as the opening scene to Elf began to play.

Yes. There were much worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.

Cross posted from AO3.

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thefloorisbalaclava · 5 years ago

Text

Everywhere - Chapter 7

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a little angst but it ends on a sweet note

A/N: The song for this chapter is Landslide by Fleetwood Mac-no lyrics this time though. Truth be told, I’m not feeling very inspired by anything lately. That being said, I’m thinking of not posting this story here anymore. No one seems to be into it as much as the other Javi stories going around and I’m pretty discouraged. I do appreciate the love I get from my usual readers though...that goes without saying.

Summary: You’ve done well for yourself in the States but then you get news that changes everything.

Tags: @longitud-de-onda @pascalisthepunkest @misslolasworld @aeryntheofficial @ah-callie @mrsparknuts @loki-098 @theringostarfanclub @huliabitch @thinemineours @flapjacques @opheliaelysia

You were enjoying your time back in the States. Connie called you almost every day and Carrillo called and wrote to you when he could. He was the only connection to the case in Colombia that you kept in steady contact with. You found yourself wanting to ask how Javier was doing but your pride always stopped you.

You had only been back about a month when your chief had pulled you aside and told you that you were being offered a position as an Intelligence Analyst. The job was at the El Paso Intelligence Center which meant that you would be moving to Texas.

Of course you had to go to Texas. Everywhere you went would remind you of Javier fucking Peña. Even when he wasn't near you, he was everywhere.

That's how you ended up in Texas, working at a desk, but making good money. You had been able to buy a nice place for yourself and live comfortably. Of course, most of the intelligence coming through was for the situation in Colombia which was to be expected.

As for your personal life, well, you didn't have much of one. You dated here and there, but you never ever really clicked with anyone. You told yourself it had nothing to do with a certain mustachioed casanova in Colombia, but that was a goddamn lie. And it made you angry. As you lie awake missing him, he was probably off with a different woman every night. He wasn't missing you. He probably didn't even remember what you looked like and that was probably for the best.

If only you could forget him.

---

You couldn't believe it had already been a year, a life-changing one at that. Sure, you missed being out in the field, but it had been a nice change of pace. Your phone rang and you picked it up announcing yourself by your last name.

"I need to see you in my office," the chief said.

"Oh uh...yes sir." The phone clicked in your ear and you hung it up before standing and walking the short distance to the chief's office. You knocked a few times and walked in, standing in front of his desk. "You needed to see me, sir?"

"Yes. Sit please." He gestured to the chair beside you and you sat in it. "You worked as a special agent in Colombia before this, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes sir. I wasn't there very long though."

"So you're familiar with the country and language, correct?" You nodded and wondered where this was going. "I want you back over there."

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you blinked a few times before responding. "Back...in Colombia, sir?"

"Yes and as soon as possible."

"Is there a reason why?" You had plenty of reasons not to go back.

"Is there some pressing reason why you cannot go to Colombia?" the chief asked, clearly frustrated.

"No sir."

"Good. Go home and pack. You fly out the day after tomorrow." He stood and walked to the window and that meant you were dismissed.

You walked out of the office and tried to catch your breath. A year. You had been out of Colombia for a year. You had been away from Javier for a year...and now you had to go back. What a cruel twist of fate.

---

The next day went by so quickly. It felt like you had only blinked and you were boarding a plane to Colombia. Even the flight seemed to go by too quickly as if everything had a hand in trying to get you back to the place, the man, you had tried to forget.

You stepped off the plane and into the airport to wait for your luggage. Once again, it came too fast. You hoped and prayed for any little delay but you were at the embassy quicker than you liked. They introduced you to people you already knew from the last time you were here to pass the time until someone from the DEA picked you up. You could easily get there yourself but they insisted on getting the Intelligence Analyst a proper ride. The only thing that made you happy was thinking that maybe they sent Steve to come get you. It would definitely be a surprise to him.

The door opened and the man talking to you stopped to greet the person who had walked in. "Ah, Colonel…" You turned your head as soon as you heard the word colonel.

"Horacio!" You didn't care how unprofessional it looked as you stood and practically ran over to greet him. He laughed quietly as you hugged him.

"It's about time." He rubbed your back. "How are you?"

"Kinda pissed being back here but so happy to see you!" You squeezed him once more before pulling away. "Let me get my bags…"

"I'll get them." He walked around you and picked up your bags before walking out the door. You watched as he put your bags in his car and scolded yourself for practically ogling the man. It had been too long. You snapped your eyes back to his face when he spoke again. "They put you up in a hacienda this time."

"A hacienda? Won't that just draw attention?"

"Maybe, but it may draw the attention of the people we're looking for." He opened the car door for you. "You want to go to the station first or what?" He closed the door and walked around to the other side.

"Is Steve there?" you asked, avoiding the other name that was on the tip of your tongue.

"I don't see why he wouldn't be."

"Okay. Let's go to the station first."

Horacio caught you up on anything he might have missed in his letters to you on the way to the station. You winced internally each time the name Javier or Peña was spoken.

"You know, he might be there too," Carrillo said as he parked then looked at you. "You don't think I noticed how you reacted each time I said his name?"

"Horacio...I…"

"It's okay. Come on." You both got out of the car and walked into the station. Your feet carried you right to the office you used to share with your partners. "Hey, your Intelligence Analyst is here," Carrillo announced and Steve turned around.

"No fuckin' way!" Steve walked over quickly and hugged you so tightly you couldn't breathe. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm in El Paso at the Intelligence Center now and the chief said he needed me back here so...here I am."

"You are a sight for sore eyes. Wait till I tell Connie." He must have seen you looking around. "Javi...he's uh...said he had to meet someone."

You sat on the edge of the desk and sighed. "Is that supposed to surprise me?" you asked with a laugh. "It's been a year, Steve. You can bring him up around me without all the trepidation."

"Talking about someone and actually seeing them are two different things, darling. Speakin' of…" Steve's eyes shifted slightly and your body stiffened as the door opened behind you. Carrillo slightly blocked you from his view and you were glad for it.

"What's going on in here? Did I miss something?" Javier asked.

You looked at Steve and shrugged before hopping off the desk and moving from behind Carrillo. Javier stumbled to a stop when his eyes landed on you. You could see him going through just about every emotion. You could also see the huge hickey on his neck. Typical.

"Hi...Agent Peña…"

"H-hey." When he said your name your heart skipped a beat. You smiled and nodded then turned back to Steve and Horacio. Javier stood and watched you talk and laugh with the other men. Of course it was easy for them to talk to you--you hadn't crushed their very souls. When Carrillo leaned over and said something in your ear, Javier bristled and felt his hands ball up into fists.

"We should all celebrate," Steve suggested. "You're the one with the hacienda now, you should host a party."

"Oh yeah, a bunch of DEA agents partying together at a hacienda won't draw any attention. Besides I've hardly had time to settle in."

"Fine. We'll all just go out then." Steve waited for your response and clapped his hands when you agreed. "Drinks on the Intelligence Analyst!" Everyone laughed. Everyone except Javier. He caught your eye again when you turned along with Carrillo to leave.

"Excuse me," you murmured as you walked past Javier. Carrillo walked ahead and had already opened the door when Javier touched your arm gently. You looked down at his hand and he moved it quickly.

"I just...I'm...it's good to see you," he mumbled but you had a feeling there was so much more to be said. Feeling his hand against your skin again was...a lot.

"It's good to see you too. And...you might wanna cover that up." You pointed to his neck and he tugged on the collar of his shirt. His mouth opened but Carrillo cleared his throat and you smiled before walking away. Maybe you would see him tonight.

---

This hacienda of yours was no joke. It was nearly fully furnished and someone had left fresh fruit out for you already. Horacio had sat with you for a little while before he got a call and had to leave. Now you were alone in this big house and bored out of your mind. Unpacking was your only remedy for that.

The little dress you had worn the last time you were here was way at the bottom and now you held it up in front of you wondering if you should wear it tonight. "Why not?" you asked aloud. The shoes you decided on were not practical nor comfortable but you didn't get out much and there was nothing wrong with getting a little sexy sometimes.

You were dressed long before night fell so you busied yourself around the house--dancing around barefoot, exploring the different rooms, familiarizing yourself with everything. Before you knew it, you heard a car horn blaring outside. You ran out to see Connie waving wildly before getting out and running to you.

"I can't believe you're back!" she screamed as she hugged you then she pulled away. "I'm so mad at you for not telling me you were leaving...but I'm so happy you're back!"

"I missed you too, Connie."

"God, I wish I looked like you in a dress," she admired. "Your little year back home treated you well, huh? Any stories?" she asked as she followed you into the house so you could put your shoes on.

"By stories I'm assuming you mean did I sleep with anyone back in the states and the answer is...none of your business." You stood up a little straighter with the heels on.

"That's not fair! Give me something."

"Listen, I have needs just like anyone else but I refuse to discuss them. I'm not as open about it as…" You cut yourself short and grabbed your little purse.

"Javi?"

"Not tonight, Connie."

"Well, he's gonna be there, you know? What're gonna do? Ignore him the entire time?" She walked with you out to the car.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do. I just wanna have a good time."

You could feel that Connie wanted to ask what happened between you and Javier but she kept quiet about it as she drove. Surely Steve had told her most of it anyway.

"I think he loves you," she blurted as soon as the car was parked outside the club.

"Connie...stop. I said not tonight." You opened the car door. "We only knew each other for a month and a few days. How could he love me?"

"You loved him, didn't you?" She got out of the car and walked over to you.

"Yes. Past tense. Now...let's go." You walked ahead of her but she caught up and linked her arm with yours.

"Sorry for bringing it up. Now smile and go shake your booty!" She laughed as you gave her a look. "Ooo here comes Horacio. I think he likes what he sees." She let go of your arm and made her way over to Steve who was sitting with Javier and a few other agents.

"You look great," Horacio said loud enough so you could hear him over the din of the crowd and the music. "Want a drink?" he asked and you nodded.

"I'm gonna go sit with everyone," you told him and with a quick nod he was off. One of the agents wolf whistled as you approached the table and you rolled your eyes. "Down boy!" you shouted and everyone laughed. You pointed to the empty spot next to Javier. "Anyone sitting here?"

"Be my guest." Javier gestured to the spot with one hand and lifted his glass of whiskey with the other.

"Thanks." You could feel his eyes on you but you looked out at the crowd to find Carrillo bringing your drink.

"Para la dama," he said as he placed the drink on the table in front of you.

"Thank you." As you drank, everyone asked you questions and told jokes. It was just like old times except it seemed like Javier didn't have much to say at all and he could never resist picking on you. You were about to turn to say something to him but got cut off.

"Let's dance." Carrillo held his hand out to you and you looked at him in shock.

"Dance? You dance?" You took his hand and he pulled you to your feet.

"Does that surprise you?" He pulled you onto the dancefloor and Connie followed with her camera. As he spun you out away from him, she snapped a quick picture and ran back to the table.

"Connie! I'm gonna break that camera!" you yelled but couldn't keep a straight face as you danced. Your body moved to the music and when you spun around again your eyes locked with Javier's and he raised his glass to you before standing and leaving. Your face fell but you tried to smile again as the song ended and you thanked Horacio for the dance. You walked back to the table and sat down, worn out and hot.

"Where did Javier go?"

"Probably for a smoke," Steve answered and you nodded. You looked towards the door but didn't get up. Isn't that how it happened last time? You went outside and he happened to be out there too and soon he was giving you a ride home. Not this time though. This time you were staying inside.

Connie stood and pulled you along to the bathroom with her but something told you that she didn't have to use it. "Go talk to him," she demanded.

"Nope." You turned and tried to walk away but she grabbed and turned you to face her. "Ow."

"He's miserable," she whined.

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're both my friends and I just want you two to be happy."

"I can't make Javier happy, Connie...and he can't make me happy either." You sounded defeated.

"How do you even know that?"

"He'll never change. He came into the office today with a huge hickey on his neck. If he loved me the way you say he does then...explain that." You crossed your arms and waited for an answer.

"He's lonely."

"Hell, I am too but I don't wanna go fuck half of Colombia!" you snapped and the women nearby looked at you. "Lo siento."

"Look. Just talk. What's the worst that can happen?" She squeezed your arm and walked away. You stood there, your heart and brain battling over what you should do. Suddenly, you grumbled and stomped your foot, gaining some more strange looks from the people around you. With an exasperated groan, you turned and walked to the door and ran right into the man you were sent to talk to.

"Shit...sorry Peña." You steadied yourself by grabbing his jacket.

"You leavin'?" he asked.

"No. I actually was coming to find you."

"Me?"

"To...talk."

"Oh." He stepped back outside and put his hands on his hips. His usual stance. "So?"

"So...how have you been?" You groaned at your own question.

"Good. Great," he lied. "And you?"

"Never better," you also lied.

"Yeah. New job. New boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Now you put your hands on your hips.

"Yeah. You and Carrillo, right?" He looked uncomfortable saying it.

"We're friends. He...called me and wrote to me when I was stateside." What you said next was probably inappropriate but you weren't in your right mind. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it…"

"I would be happy for you." Another lie.

"Hm…"

There was a long moment of silence. You could hear the beat of the music coming from inside but your heart seemed to be beating louder than that.

"I kept it, you know." He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "The letter…"

"Oh. I wasn't sure you got it."

"Yeah, well, I had no way of contacting you to let you know." The volume of his voice had gotten higher and you glared at him.

"And why do you think you even deserved to keep in contact with me?"

"Why did I de-" He growled in anger and began walking away only to turn back to you.

"Your letter said you loved me. I read those fucking words over and over again until I couldn't see straight! I tried everything! I tried drinking it away. I tried fucking it away! But you were always there! And then having you show up like this...I thought I'd feel better but it actually hurts more than you being so far away. Having to see you with fuckin' Carrillo like that…" He sighed and looked down at the ground.

"I…"

"I'm not even Javier to you anymore. I'm back to being Agent fucking Peña."

"Well, if that bothers you then I can call-"

"Did you hear a fucking word I said?!" he shouted. He walked up to you and put his hands on your upper arms. You blinked back tears that had been threatening to fall for the last few minutes. Him being so close to you again brought back so many memories. Most of them you wanted gone.

"I could've loved you, Javier," you whispered. "But maybe it's like you said...good is not what you need right now."

"How long are you gonna keep throwing my own words back in my face?"

"As long as they hurt me." You pulled yourself out of his grip. "And yes...they still hurt."

"Is everything okay out here?" Carrillo walked to your side and you wiped your tears away quickly.

"Everything is fine," you murmured.

"No, it's not." Javier stomped back inside and your eyes followed.

"I want to go home," you told Horacio. "Please." And that was the end of your night out.

---

The next few days consisted of you and Javier glaring at each other and the rest of the office walking on eggshells. One wrong word or phrase could send either of you off on a tirade and the office was already uneasy with tension. Whenever Carrillo showed up, Javier would always find that he had to do something in another room. Whenever Javier said he had to meet with an informant, you chuckled bitterly, loud enough for him to hear.

Connie showed up one of the days when you were sure you were going to kill Javier. You needed her happiness to clear the air.

"I got the pictures developed," she said excitedly. You looked through them and threw most of the ones of yourself in the garbage. "Hey! This is a good one! You're smiling!"

"I don't like it." You took it from her hand and dropped it back in the trash. "Anyway...I'm done for the day. Let's go get some food." You linked your arm with Connie's and headed out. You were looking down when you heard her greet Javier.

"Hey Javi!"

"Hey Connie."

You avoided his gaze and kept walking. Connie looked back at Javier and shrugged as you pulled her along.

---

Back in the office, Javier tried to organize some of the mess on his desk when he spotted a photo on the floor. He went to pick it up and realized it was a picture of you smiling. When he walked over to your desk, he noticed a bunch of photos had made their way into the trash. He dug them out and looked at each and every one. He didn't realize he was smiling until it fell off his face when the last picture he looked at was one of you and Carrillo dancing. You looked so carefree, so happy. He lightly traced over your face then folded the photo so that he only saw you. The other he took was one that Connie must have snuck and took at the club. You and he were sitting together. You were looking off into the crowd and he was looking at you. He scoffed. He was always looking at you. When you were around the rest of the world didn't exist.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x fem!reader #Narcos #narcos netflix #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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hereidinathoreauwrites · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV), Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Joan Characters: Zoey Clarke, Joan (Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist), Annette (Come From Away), Beulah Davis, Beverley Bass, Claude Elliott Additional Tags: Crossover, Angst and Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, two people end up stuck together somewhere and oops they're in love, Developing Relationship, mentions of 9/11, the author is clearly just mashing together two things they very much enjoy and seeing what happens, Zoey and Joan are closer in age, college!Zoey, Gander (Come From Away), References to Come From Away Summary:

For Zoey, it was a return home from a study abroad program, back for her final semester at San Francisco State. For Joan, it was a business trip meant to fix her marriage from imminent destruction.

But when history crashed across the world on that fateful day, their lives were thrown together as they took refuge in Newfoundland and tried to cope with tragedies personal and global.

ZEP and Come From Away crossover. Because I said so.

She just wanted to get home.

Zoey Clarke tripped on her way to her seat, nearly smacking an angry-looking dark-haired first-class woman in the face. Mumbling an apology for the near-mishap, Zoey darted towards Economy, face burning.

It had been six months. Six glorious months of baguettes, and croissants, and the view across the Seine, and coding with her French classmates in two languages until the early hours of the morning. But she was finally going back home to California.

Zoey finally settled into her seat (an aisle seat) and threw her backpack into the overhead. She carefully tucked her computer case under the seat in front of her.

She’d barely settled herself before the cabin address began.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome aboard this American Airlines flight 846 nonstop service from Paris to Los Angeles. My name is Captain Bass. We have an estimated flight time today of roughly 11 and a half hours and we are due to arrive in LA at 2pm local time on Tuesday, September 11th. Please sit back and enjoy your flight.”

Zoey closed her eyes as they taxied; nervous but a small part of her relieved.

She’d be home soon.

***

Meet you in LA.

Joan Bennett scowled at the SMS on her phone screen. That’s it. That was all he’d been able to muster up. Skipping out on their anniversary in Paris entirely for some stupid reason. He hadn’t even called.

She sat back in her seat as the cabin address came on, eyes already closing as the standard pre-flight information was given.

LA was his last chance. If Charlie couldn’t buck up and actually give a damn about their marriage this time she was going to…

Joan pursed her lips, resolve faltering. You’d be all alone. Despite his many, many shortcomings, Charlie was still a warm body alongside hers (on the nights he was actually home). He was still a partner in this unfriendly world. And the thought of being without him…

She drifted into an uneasy sleep as they took off towards America. Towards the man she didn’t know how to love.

“L…ladies and g…gentlemen…p..please, please fasten your seatbelts and put your tray tables up…we are preparing to land.”

Zoey blinked awake, confused. Were they in LA already?

Glancing around, she saw several others looking just as confused as she was. Zoey glanced at her watch. It had barely been five hours since they’d left Paris.

“What’s happening?” She asked the man next to her.

He just shook his head.

Zoey tightened her seatbelt and sat back, heart racing as the plane began a slow descent. She glanced over her neighbors and saw a tiny strip of land surrounded by vast ocean.

They weren’t falling. But something about this just didn’t quite feel right.

***

The plane touched down and Joan stared out the window. This wasn’t LAX. It was some rundown airport surrounded by trees.

“Where the hell are we?” She demanded.

“Newfoundland.” The flight attendant informed her, seeming distracted. “Nothing to worry about madam.”

“Any idea when we’ll be on our way?”

But the woman didn’t answer her. She vanished into the cockpit.

Joan heard hushed voices and some kind of chatter on the pilot’s radio.

She frowned and pulled out her cell phone.

As she dialed a number, she glanced out the window again.

It was then that she registered the dozens of other planes lined up in haphazard rows. And the long line of cars beyond the airport, stretching out along the winding country road.

What was going on?

***

Seven hours later, Zoey felt like she was losing her mind. She’d tried to ask the flight attendants questions or chat with her neighbor but no one seemed to know anything or be willing to share if they did. No one around her had a phone so she couldn’t even call her parents to let them know about the delay.

Her unease had only grown when the captain announced that complimentary drinks were going to be provided. Alcoholic drinks.

In Zoey’s limited experience, businesses only gave alcohol away on holidays and during the shittiest of circumstances. She doubted it was a holiday in…wherever-they-were Newfoundland.

As her fellow passengers got drunker, they got louder. And the plane only got hotter and more stifling.

An hour after the drinks, someone finally cracked open the airplane door. It did little overall but something was better than nothing at this rate.

Zoey couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to move. She needed to plug herself into her code and block out all this madness.

Her neighbor had joined the drunken revelry at the back a half hour ago. Scooping up her computer, Zoey wriggled out of her seat and made her way towards first class. There might be more leg room up there at least. And it was further from the drunk singing.

***

Joan wanted to kill somebody. They’d been sitting on the ground for over seven hours by this point, not including the five hour flight beforehand. And still, no one was telling them what was going on.

At least the free vodka was taking some of the edge off. But if she didn’t get off this plane soon, she was going to lose her mind. Or strangle a flight attendant.

“Excuse me…?”

Joan turned and saw the klutzy redhead from earlier pointing at the empty seat beside her. “Do…do you mind if I sit here? I need to get some work done and the back of the plane is filled with a lot of singing drunk people.”

Joan eyed the stranger, seizing her up. She was younger than Joan by maybe a decade and looked even younger in her bright shirt. An even brighter cardigan was tied around her waist. Her smile was soft and hesitant, like she was afraid to offend or even exist.

Joan shrugged. “No, of course not.” She was way past the point of caring. They were stuck in a plane in the middle of nowhere. Not like things could get much worse.

The woman took Charlie’s empty seat, giving Joan a soft smile.

“I’m Zoey.” She was clutching a laptop like it was a lifeline. That was the only reason Joan engaged with her.

“Joan.” She replied.

“H…how are you doing?” Zoey asked, her face pinching in concern.

Joan sighed. “Wish I knew what was happening.” She bit her lip and swigged the rest of her vodka miniature. “And worried about someone who was flying today…I wish I could tell him I’m in…Iceland!”

“Newfoundland.” Zoey’s face immediately fell as Joan rounded on her at the correction. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to correct you!” The young woman gave a sheepish smile. “I’m hoping you’re one of those people who laugh when awkward people say stupid things.”

Joan couldn’t help but smile. “It’s fine. Don’t mind me, I’m just frustrated.”

Zoey nodded and Joan had to admire her empathy, especially under these circumstances. “Where were you coming from?” Zoey inquired.

“London.”

Zoey tilted her head, interest apparently piqued. “Really? You dont have an accent!”

Joan laughed. “I’m not from there…I’m…just working there. I haven’t developed the accent yet.” She gestured at the laptop. “How about you? What are you working on?” She normally wasn’t one for small talk, especially with strangers. But there was literally nothing else to do at this point so why not? Besides, Zoey wasn’t the worst option on the plane. Not by a long shot.

Zoey blushed and placed her laptop on the tray-table. It was a fairly expensive model but a few years old and clearly well-loved. “I’m actually a student.” She admitted. “Senior at San Fran State. I was coming back from a semester abroad in Paris. I’m studying computer science with a minor in languages.”

“Really?” Joan found herself turning towards the young woman, actually interested. What were the odds? “What are you going to do with that?”

Zoey gestured at the computer. “I’m working on my thesis: a piece of software for instant translations on emails and instant messages. I’m starting with English to French but hopefully I’ll be able to expand it.”

Joan was intrigued. “Well…this may be your lucky day…” She smiled. “I work for Google.”

Zoey’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

The next two hours flew by. They talked about everything: job prospects at Google, the finer coding points of Zoey’s software, life in London, and dog breeds. For a time, they were both able to put aside the trepidation and frustration of the long wait inside the plane.

They only stopped when the captain turned on the intercom and the voice of the president filtered through the plane.

“My fellow Americans…”

They listened in confusion at his words: talk of victims and brave Americans rescuing their fellow citizens. Joan bit her lip, worry starting to creep in. What had happened? From the sound of it, some kind of natural disaster or explosion. But there was no way to get information while they were stuck here. Her phone was dead and anyway, there was…no one to call.

Joan turned to Zoey and was startled to see the younger woman trembling.

“Hey…” She gently touched Zoey’s shoulder, unsure if the action was welcome. “Hey, you okay?”

The younger woman smiled in gratitude but it seemed forced. “Joan…I know we just met…but…” She swallowed hard, seeming like she was looking for words. “I just…I’m all alone and I dont know what’s happening and…”

Joan touched her shoulder once more. “It’s fine.” She assured her. “I’m…alone too. You can stick with me until we figure things out.”

Zoey seemed relieved.

***

Joan briefly lost track of Zoey during the madness of disembarkation. The younger woman had slipped back to her seat as they heard they were leaving, needing to grab her bag. For all the long hours they’d been stuck, once word came down that they were finally getting off, leaving took very little time.

Joan was ushered down the aisle before Zoey reappeared. They finally left their plane and were herded through the darkness into the airport.

Joan swore it was older than she was - probably a relic from the Cold War…or World War II. Thankfully, they didn’t spend long inside.

The local soldiers guided them towards a line of school buses; keeping some flights together and splitting others up indiscriminately.

Joan glanced around as she shuffled along, wondering where Zoey had gotten to. Wondering if the vibrant young coder had fallen out of her life already. It was a shame if she had…Joan had rather liked her.

She followed other passengers from her flight onto a bus and claimed a seat about halfway down. It was cramped and squeaky. But at least it wasn’t a plane. She sat there for 20 minutes, one hand on the other half of the seat in a halfhearted attempt to save it.

But just as every other seat on the bus filled up, a familiar redhead climbed aboard. Joan’s heart jumped.

“Zoey!” She stood and waved to her, guiding her towards the empty seat. “I thought we’d lost you.” She was very glad she hadn’t.

Zoey shook her head, clutching her bag in one hand and her laptop case in the other. “No…No I just needed to get an emergency prescription filled….” Her eyes widened and she shook her hands. “N…nothing serious! It’s not like…I’m going to go crazy because I…I’m off my meds…” The younger woman deflated slightly. “I…I’ll stop talking now…”

Joan chuckled. “It’s fine.” It was…kind of endearing actually.

Zoey settled next to her. “Did you find out about your husband?” She asked. “Was he flying today?”

Joan stiffened. “Do you mind if we just dont talk about that?” She had called Charlie moments after they first landed. The conversation had barely lasted a minute before her battery died. He was safe. And he didn’t seem to care about…whatever had happened or wherever she was. But Joan was more concerned with her utter lack of relief about that revelation. Maybe once she knew just what the hell was going on, she would actually feel glad that he was safe. But right now…

“How about you?” She asked Zoey, finding she was genuinely interested in her companion’s state. “Did you manage to get through to your family? In San Francisco?”

Zoey’s face fell. “No. The pay phones were all out of order…and no one had a cell phone…I just…I just wish we knew what was happening!”

Joan was filled with a resolve so intense that it erased all thoughts of her husband. “I know. I’m sorry.” She squeezed Zoey’s shoulder, utterly unconcerned at how quickly that action had become commonplace for them. “I’ll help you find a phone as soon as we get…” She glanced up, out the bus windows and into the darkness surrounding them. “Wherever we’re going…”

Zoey smiled in thanks. They didn’t say much for the rest of the bus ride. But neither did anyone else.

***

The bus took them to a school gymnasium. Hundreds of gym mats, air mattresses, and army cots had been laid out in long rows along the floor. Some had pillows or blankets but most did not. Joan was glad she’d grabbed her airplane blanket but this still looked terrible. Were they really going to be staying here overnight? Surely they could find a better hotel. She’d gladly share with Zoey if it got them both out of here.

A woman greeted them as they ambled in, identifying herself in a thick accent as Beulah, a staff member of the school. She directed them to grab a spot for themselves and that once they were settled, they could come back into the cafeteria and watch the news on several old television sets.

As eager as she was to know just why the hell they were here, Joan decided she’d rather have first pick of the beds.

Through it all, Zoey clung to Joan’s side. She took the air mattress next to Joan’s, tucking her computer between their beds. Joan waited for her while she carefully covered the case with her blanket.

Then they went into the cafeteria.

It seemed like everyone from their flight and beyond was there, crammed into the space, trying to get a glimpse.

Joan managed to push her way through to the front, Zoey trailing behind her.

Then they finally saw.

They all stood there in front of the TVs, taking it all in in stunned silence.

Smoke, steel, dust. A plane appearing out of nowhere and…

Joan couldn’t look away. She felt…lost, untethered. Any sense of safety she’d had the privilege of ignorance about was shattered forever.

The same footage was on an endless loop, like some kind of cruel flipbook. It should have been a movie. But it wasn’t.

When the first tower fell, a collective gasp went up around the room.

Without thinking, Joan reached for Zoey’s hand. The younger woman was pale and trembling but she gripped Joan’s hand so tightly she felt her tendons re-arrange. In that moment, Joan was so glad the coder had chosen to take Charlie’s seat.

This was a history-defining moment. And all they could do was assure the other that in this moment when they could do nothing, when they were stranded thousands of miles away from all the chaos and death, they were not alone.

Some time later, after someone had turned the news off in frustration, Zoey finally let go of Joan’s hand. She turned away and pushed her way out of the crowd, towards the hallway.

“Zoey?” Joan followed her, unwilling to let her out of her sight again.

She found her collapsed against the wall. The young woman looked shaken, like her world was crumbling.

Joan kneeled beside her and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Zoey, what is it?” She asked, as gently as she could.

Zoey shook her head and swallowed. “My…my brother, David…is in law school in Manhattan…” She looked up, face pale. “What…what if he was there?”

Joan didn’t have an answer for her.

Zoey looked down. She wasn’t crying, it was more like…helplessness. Or a despair so deep it had rendered her unable to move.

Watching her, Joan felt the true weight of their situation settle heavily on her shoulders. They were stuck here in wherever Newfoundland, while there…people were dead, people were dying, the wreckage was burning.

It could have been any of them.

She could have been in the towers, visiting on business like she had been a year ago. The terrorists could have hijacked their flight and flown it off-course. Zoey could have been in Manhattan, visiting her brother. Zoey’s brother could have been on the ground.

They couldn’t do anything…couldn’t call people, couldn’t go home, couldn’t seek revenge, or help the wounded.

Zoey gave a tiny sound, something like a gasp but fainter, more vulnerable.

Joan fixated on it. It was something. Something she could do.

Maybe if she could just help this poor girl find out about her brother, everything would somehow be okay.

***

Zoey barely slept.

It felt like every time she closed her eyes, she was seeing smoke engulfing New York City streets she had walked a mere year before. The sounds of people screaming and sirens blaring echoed in her head. The creaking of her air mattress sounded too similar to the crunch of concrete.

Finally, she gave up. Wrapping herself in Joan’s airplane blanket, she staggered towards the gym doors and forced one open. A blast of cool Canadian air whipped past her, bringing her body back here, back to this strange place. Far away from there. Far away from David.

Wherever he was.

Her lip trembled as she thought of him. When was the last time she’d called? The last time she’d said she loved him? When had she last heard him laugh? Why hadn’t she cherished those moments?

The cold had stopped helping.

Now it was inside her. It was consuming her.

***

As dawn broke, a woman named Annette brought Zoey a cup of coffee. She was sitting in a chair by the edge of the room, exhausted and still lost in horrible thoughts about David. Joan was nowhere in sight, having slipped out early in the morning for unknown reasons. Zoey missed her.

“Mornin’ hun.” Annette greeted, “you hungry? We got breakfast down in the cafeteria.”

Zoey shook her head. Her stomach was empty but the thought of food nauseated her. And the televisions were still on in the cafeteria.

“Well then, do you need to change?” Annette asked, “I can get you some clean clothes if you want.”

Zoey almost refused but then she realized that these were the same clothes she’d put on the day before yesterday, underwear and all. Suddenly, it felt like they were melding into her skin. She nodded and Annette patted her on the hand before getting up to grab her a change of clothes.

It was a relief she hadn’t known she needed. But at the same time, the strangeness of it just made her miss home even more. And think about how far away she was from David and from San Francisco.

Zoey had just finished putting on the fresh underwear, slightly too big jeans, and was pulling on a plaid shirt that clashed horribly with her hair when Joan finally returned.

The older woman cocked her head at the outfit but all she said was: “Is your hair different? You look good.”

Zoey chuckled, fingering the hasty ponytail. “Thanks. It’s just super unwashed…” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like a different person. “Are we leaving?”

Joan shrugged. “No one seems to know.” She was still wearing the same clothes from the plane and she was fiddling with something in her pocket. Her hair was also pulled back but into a severe bun that Zoey immediately envied. Zoey opened her mouth to tell her about the free clothes but Joan seemed preoccupied. She jerked her head towards the door Zoey had stood in front of the night before. “Zoey, come with me…”

Joan led her outside the building, one hand in her pocket, the other clutching Zoey’s tightly. Zoey followed, silent but alert.

As they stood in the chilly air, Joan finally pulled out her other hand.

A cell phone. A fancy, expensive, international phone.

Zoey gasped, eyes sliding from the device to Joan’s face.

“I finally got a chance to charge it.” Joan said, sounding apologetic. “I…I wanted to make sure you got to use it first, before I offer it to the others.” She held it out to Zoey. “Go on, check on your family. I’ll be just inside if you need me.”

Hands shaking, Zoey took the phone. Her stomach was in knots.

“Wait,” She called as Joan turned to go inside. “Stay? Please?”

Joan nodded. She took a few steps back, far enough to give Zoey some privacy but never letting her out of her sight.

Her heart thrumming, Zoey dialed the number.

***

Joan watched intently as the coder used her phone. Her eyes traced Zoey’s path as she spoke rapidly with someone on the other end. She folded her arms tightly as Zoey stopped pacing and her face pinched with sympathy as she saw the young woman place a hand over her chest.

After a few moments, Zoey hung up and made her way back to Joan.

She braced herself.

“He’s…he’s okay…” Zoey let out a shaky breath. “David he…he’s with my parents in San Francisco…he wasn’t in New York when it…” Her lip trembled, a single tear dripping down her face.

Unsure what else to do, Joan only held out her arms.

Zoey fell into her embrace, her small form shaking with relief as she sobbed.

***

The next two days were torturous.

There was nothing to do. Nothing but wait. Wait for a phone to be available in the hallway. Wait for the news to show the clips again. Wait for the word that they were leaving.

While knowing that her family was safe had taken some of the edge off, Zoey still found herself anxious, jumpy and unable to sleep. She stuck by Joan like a barnacle.

Joan seemed to notice and would try to distract her. On the second morning, after finally managing to stomach some food, they risked going outside for a walk and explored the town together. Joan had finally caved and accepted a gift of clothing from Annette. She was bundled up in a sweater that was far too large for her and jeans she constantly complained about. They talked more about Zoey’s thesis, about Joan’s favorite parts of London. Anything but the dark cloud hanging over the world.

For a brief moment, Zoey convinced her to open up about her husband and learned the sad truth: after 6 years of marriage, Joan was getting divorced.

Joan didn’t seem sad about it.

Some of the local kids invited them into a yard they passed and spent an hour playing with Zoey’s hair, putting her messy locks into braids and plaits. The youngest of them eventually convinced Joan to sit and receive a single sloppy braid. Zoey had to laugh at the ridiculous hairstyle. Joan did not take the braid out.

As they walked back to the school in the quickly dwindling sunlight, Zoey reached for Joan’s hand again. Joan took it without a second thought, her thumb rubbing Zoey’s hand soothingly.

It was a simple gesture. But to Zoey, it grounded her here.

She barely knew this woman. But she was here. And she was amazing. She’d spent all day just talking to her, distracting her from the horrible state of the world and the remote location they were stranded in.

Zoey hated to think that Joan would tire of her and leave her all alone again. She desperately tried to think of ways to pay the woman back for her attention and came up blank.

She didn’t want to be alone. And she didn’t want Joan to be alone.

But was that enough?

***

The following night, (after another day spent walking with Zoey, this time along the coast) Beulah invited them all down to the local Legion building for “some drinking and some fun.” Which was probably a good call: there had been several loud arguments over phones that day and even a brief fight between several of the passengers. Everyone was on edge and stuck in place. A little drinking could only help at this rate.

Joan wasn’t going to go; it didn’t feel right with everything that was happening. She didn’t want to celebrate: she’d finally decided that her marriage (it it had ever really been that) was over. She’d be going back to London alone if all this ever ended - to an empty flat and a demanding job and a cold bed. It felt wrong to be upset or even happy over such a thing when the world was still reeling from Tuesday.

But then Zoey piped up and said: “I’m only going if Joan is going!” and just like that, she was slipping on her borrowed shoes (heels only got a woman so far in this place) and following the crowd down towards the Legion building. As soon as she stepped inside, Joan knew it had been the right choice.

The night was insanity in the best way. Over 400 people from all over the world were celebrating together: drinking, dancing, even swimming in the river! And then the instruments came out.

Joan had never particularly cared for fiddles or accordions. But after two beers, she forgot that.

Lost with Zoey among the strangers from around the world, Joan forgot all about her aversion to dancing and her image: she tore up the dance floor with jig after mindless jig. Of course, the fact that Zoey was pulling her along and laughing and holding her hands certainly helped with that.

It was a new feeling for Joan: enjoying spending time with someone. And having someone enjoy spending time with her. Charlie had never seemed to care for their date nights, he more put up with them for the promise of sex.

But Zoey clearly enjoyed being here. And more importantly, she enjoyed being her with her. So Joan let loose.

As the night went on, the locals decided it was time for a ceremony.

“We needs a couple of volunteers!” Mayor Claude declared, “Who wants to be Newfoundlanders?”

Zoey snatched Joan’s arm and dragged her forward, not giving Joan enough time to bring her drink along. “Us!” Zoey cried, “we wanna be Newfoundlanders!!”

Joan, already a little tipsy and way too engaged in Zoey’s enthusiasm could only nod along.

Claude beamed at them. “Where are you two from?” He asked.

“California!” Zoey shouted, drowning out Joan’s murmured answer.

“What part of California are you from, ma’am?” Claude asked Joan.

“No! No!” Zoey waved her hands. “I’m from California.” She pointed at Joan. “She’s in England!”

Claude chuckled, “wait…now how does that work?”

“How does…what work?” Joan asked.

“Well how does your marriage work?” Claude inquired, “with one of you in California and the other in England?”

Zoey and Joan exchanged a quick glance, both of their faces red. Joan only just realized how close together they were standing. And in borrowed clothes and no makeup, the age difference between them seemed invisible to onlooking strangers.

“Uhhh...we’re, we’re not married…” Zoey told him. Joan was having trouble forming words.

Claude laughed again. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I thought you were…” He regarded them, seeming to read something in their embarrassed silence. “Well…” He raised an eyebrow at them, “would you like to be?”

Zoey’s face lit up. “Well why not?!” She cried. She seized Joan’s hand and lifted it up into the air. “Whoooooo!!!”

Logically, Joan knew it was the alcohol talking. Zoey herself had said earlier that she’d never had more than one beer at a time before and yet she’d watched the woman down two beers in quick succession that night.

Nevertheless, Joan, her face on fire and a stupid grin that she couldn’t justify on her face, went and got the woman two more beers.

The actual ceremony of becoming a Newfoundlander was a bizarre mix of local culture and sorority hazing.

Joan stuck by Zoey’s side as they sang a long upbeat song, tasted local food, and knocked back a horrific rum that burned her sinuses clean off.

But then came the cod.

It was a large, slimy thing that stared at them with big, dead eyes. Two local men were needed to hold it up.

And to Joan’s horror, the final part of becoming a Newfoundlander was kissing this dead fish.

“I’m not kissing a fish!” She declared.

“I will if you will!” Zoey promised, her face a pleasant shade of red from the alcohol. It was hard to dismiss that face. Joan eyed the thing distastefully as another volunteer puckered their lips and kissed the scales.

But they’d come this far…and it couldn’t be worse than kissing Charlie after sushi night, could it?

“Oh my god…” Closing her eyes, Joan pursed her lips and leaned forward. She pecked as soon as she felt something cool and slimy and darted back, retching.

It was worse. But only barely.

But when her turn came, Zoey balked. “I can’t do it!” She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.

“Come on, I did it!” Joan protested, elbowing her forward. “Pucker up!”

“You gotta kiss a cod, it’s a vital part of the ceremony!” Claude insisted.

But Zoey backed off again, shaking her head and giggling. “I can’t do it!”

Claude chuckled. “Okay, I tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.” He pointed to the cod. “Either you kiss this fish…” His finger slid to Joan. “Or you kiss this English-woman that you’re ‘not married to’.”

Zoey didn’t even hesitate. In a single motion, she launched herself at the taller woman and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Startled, Joan could only catch her. Since she wasn’t wearing heels, their faces were mere inches apart. Zoey pressed forward. Their lips met and held in a glorious kiss. All around them, the room erupted in yips and cheers.

Zoey broke away after a second, grinning stupidly and completely red in the face. Then, as if nothing had happened, she grabbed Joan’s hand and pulled her back into the crowd of dancers.

Joan couldn’t stop looking at her the rest of the night.

***

The word finally came down early on Saturday: the FAA was going to open the airspace back up.

Captain Bass got in contact with their flight and informed them that they’d be leaving as soon as it was possible so they shouldn’t travel too far from their shelters.

Zoey managed to convince Joan to take one last walk with her. She’d heard about a nearby geologic marvel called the Dover Fault from Annette and thought it might be the perfect last hurrah.

They clambered up what felt like several thousand stairs carved into the cliff, panting and assuring the other that they were okay.

Finally, they crested the edge and gazed out from the overlook. The ocean crashed into the rocky inlet, scouring the ancient rocks.

“This is incredible!” Zoey called. She beckoned Joan forward. “Look! I can’t believe we’re here!” But as she stared at the gorgeous view, Zoey felt her smile start to slip away.

“I can’t believe we’re leaving…” She lamented. It all felt like a dream that was drawing to a close.

“…I don’t want to go…” Joan murmured.

Zoey turned back to her, “What did you say?”

Joan shook her head, smiling. “Oh nothing…I’m going to uh…” she held up her disposable camera that she’d purchased in town. “…to take some pictures.”

Zoey nodded. “O…okay.” She stood aside to give Joan a better shot.

She was a bit of a light-weight but Zoey remembered the night at the Legion in snatches: lively dances, delicious rum, and shouting that she wanted to be married to Joan. She remembered launching herself at Joan out of desperation to not kiss a slimy sea creature. She remembered her stomach and chest filling with fire as their lips met.

But Joan hadn’t said a word about it. Hadn’t even indicated that she remembered any of it. They continued with their walks and their discussions of technology and little things.

They didn’t talk about the kiss.

Zoey realized Joan was still pointing the camera towards her and took another step back. “No…stay where you are!” Joan called, eye still in her camera.

“Really? I’m blocking your shot!”

Joan smiled at her. “It’s perfect.”

The shutter clicked, capturing the moment in time.

Zoey felt like she should say something; tease Joan about her taking her photo or ask her if she had really meant what she’d said.

Staying here…it was a ridiculous idea. They were only here because of…because of the tragedy. They had lives of their own to get back to. But the more she thought about it, standing there on the chilly edge of a cliff on the edge of the Atlantic, going back to her life in California felt…empty.

Logically, she knew that once she was back she wouldn’t feel that way. Her family was there, and her friends, and her thesis that needed completion. There were things she loved and fulfilling work to occupy her time.

But Joan wouldn’t be there.

Zoey stared as Joan slowly lowered her camera, the device whirring to indicate it was out of film.

Joan would return to her incredible job in London, working long hours and finalizing her divorce. As the days returned to normal, she’d forget all about the redheaded college coder she’d briefly known in this place. Zoey knew she was unremarkable; a mere blip in Joan’s life. A chance encounter.

They stared at each other, standing on the edge of this chasm that marked a time when tectonic plates had unexpectedly crashed together and then separated forever.

Zoey never wanted this moment to end. If the world had stopped spinning right then and there, she would be happy.

***

They barely made it out before the hurricane made landfall. Pack-up was hasty and haphazard, with no one sure if they should keep the borrowed clothes and no one knowing how to thank the people of Gander for their incredible compassion and hospitality.

Joan and Zoey scribbled a hasty thank you across the wall closest to where their air mattresses had been. They wrote it in three languages: English, French, and binary code. Then it was back onto the buses and back to the ancient airport.

The winds were picking up and it had begun to rain as Captain Bass taxied the plane down the runway.

No one had cared about assigned seats for the flight back. Joan’s feet had followed Zoey into the Economy class and they had taken two seats in a row near the back. No one joined them in their row. Despite the utter lack of anything resembling personal space, Joan couldn’t have cared less. It was where Zoey was. And that was the only place she wanted to be.

As they picked up speed, Joan reached for Zoey’s hand but recoiled a second before she grabbed it. What was she doing? Trying to hold onto this moment? Trying to stop them from leaving?

It was too late now.

They were leaving. And she was going to return to a newly-empty life a continent and an ocean away from Zoey’s warmth and light.

The first hour of the flight was silent. Zoey kept opening her mouth like she wanted to say something but she never did. Joan didn’t know what to say. Or if she should say anything at all. Every possible thing she could say felt inadequate.

But as Captain Bass gleefully announced over the intercom that they had crossed back into US airspace, Joan glanced over at her companion. Zoey was crying, silently and intensely, as if she just couldn’t stop.

Joan immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in, aiming for Zoey’s forehead to give her a comforting kiss.

But the plane jostled at the exact moment Zoey turned towards her.

Joan’s lips grazed the corner of Zoey’s mouth instead of her forehead.

Zoey gazed up at her, eyes wide and hopeful.

Her heart leaping, Joan shifted the angle of her mouth.

Their lips met again. And this time, they simply didn’t stop.

They kissed and canoodled for hours at the back of the plane. All around them, Joan was aware of cabin addresses and their fellow passengers drinking and sharing stories of their stay. But all she cared about was Zoey. Wrapping her arms around Zoey, playing with Zoey’s hair, kissing Zoey as often as she could. Zoey was real. These feelings were real. And like the Dover Fault, she would remain real no matter how long it was after they parted ways.

At one point, not long after Captain Bass had announced that they were now flying over California, a flight attendant paused alongside their seats, tongs ready to hand out hot towels.

“Cold towel?” She asked, smirking.

Blushing, Zoey hid her face in Joan’s neck. Joan couldn’t stop smiling.

***

But of course, they had to part ways.

There was a measure of relief among all of them as they safely touched down in LAX. If she was being honest, Zoey had been carrying a tiny knot of fear in her chest the whole flight home, a small part of her convinced their journey would end the same way as all that footage on the news.

But as soon as they were safely on the ground, that knot of fear became a hard ball of dread.

“So…” She faced Joan at the baggage claim, laptop clutched in one hand, the other hand clasped tightly in Joan’s. Zoey knew her family was anxiously waiting outside and that Joan had a connection to send her back across the Atlantic to London leaving soon.

But neither of them wanted to move.

“So…” Joan echoed, trying to smile but failing.

“So, you’ll call?” Zoey asked.

Joan squeezed her hand. “As soon as I get back.”

She leaned forward and pecked Zoey on the lips. Despite the hours of frantic making out they’d done on the plane and the drunken kiss at the Legion, it felt like their first kiss.

Joan smiled one last time and let go of Zoey’s hand.

And then Zoey was all alone.

***

Joan’s flight back to London passed like a dream. Since she’d been hastily rescheduled onto this flight (having missed her original days ago), she was stuck in Economy. And despite the fact that there were literally only six other people on the plane, she still was not permitted to move up to first class. But she hardly cared.

When she finally opened the door to her flat, she swore it had all been a dream.

Her belongings were still exactly as she’d left them, barely any dust to mark the passage of time.

So far away from New York, London bustled about as normal below her window, the fear still internal and existential for now.

But as she unpacked, Joan found the camera.

She dropped everything and ran out to find a 24-hour photo developer.

Within two hours, she held living proof that it wasn’t a dream.

Zoey, standing on the edge of the Dover Fault, her red hair flying in the ocean wind, her smile soft but fondly directed towards the lens.

Joan stroked the print, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

The flat was so empty.

***

“Hi.”

“Hey”

“How are you?”

“Good…my advisor says if I can finish my report by the end of November, I can graduate as planned.”

“That’s great!”

Zoey paused, unsure what else to say. She would call just before bed, knowing that it was about the time Joan woke up. But life got in the way and the calls had dwindled from a few per week to one per week when they were lucky. And even then, their conversations, which had flowed so effortlessly in person, barely lasted an hour before one of them had to go.

Zoey had found it increasingly difficult to remain optimistic the past few months. Everyone was just so afraid all the time. David had transferred from Manhattan to a California law school, not wanting to be so far away anymore. He’d refused to fly and instead carpooled across the country with his girlfriend Emily. Her parents spoke in hushed voices when they thought she couldn’t hear and her father increasingly watched the news over anything else.

Zoey found herself crying more often and thinking increasingly about how lucky she’d been. But that was always quickly followed by guilt. How dare she celebrate finding Joan and a small bit of happiness in the chaos when so many people were dead?

And while she didn’t feel alone, Zoey still felt unsettled. She’d told her parents about Joan but they still didn’t seem to get it. They hadn’t been in Gander. They hadn’t known the feeling of being stranded and yet feeling at peace amid all the horrors.

“Zoey?” She hadn’t spoken in awhile.

“I…I miss you.” Zoey admitted, her voice small. “I miss Newfoundland. And I know…I know we cant go back but…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence. She couldn’t tell Joan how some nights she slipped out of her dorm room and walked to the pier just so she could close her eyes and imagine she was back in Gander, Joan’s hand in hers as they looked out over the ocean. She couldn’t say just how much she needed Joan here - as she had been at the beginning of this terrifying new world - to be at her side and talk to her, hold her hand and provide comfort in the darkness.

Joan listened intently, unsure if Zoey was crying or just at a loss for words. She wanted so badly to be there. Her life since Gander had been nothing but work. Endless hours at Google and a few spare hours with her lawyer. Her flat was starting to feel stifling.

She dreamed of Gander, of long walks with Zoey, of crashing continents and salty air. She longed for a warm embrace, for soft lips on hers. Her thoughts formed dangerous plans that had her terrified. Suddenly nothing of her old life made sense…and she cared nothing for it.

“J…Joan?”

Joan sighed down the line.

They couldn’t do this. It wasn’t going to work if they were a continent apart.

“Zoey…I’m going to move to San Francisco.” She said it softly, giving those dangerous plans more leverage.

Zoey’s breath caught. “Joan…”

She barreled on. “I applied for a transfer to the main Google office…don’t try to change my mind.” Joan beseeched her, knowing Zoey was about to protest. “The divorce papers are signed, my bags can be packed in a week. I’m coming to you. If you’ll have me.” Her voice was heavy with meaning. The kind of meaning that expected an answer.

Zoey let out a shaky exhale, clutching the phone cord tightly in her hand. “Yes. Yes Joan.”

***

One year later

Joan gazed out over the bands of ancient rock. Now that she was really looking, she could see the bits and pieces that stood out: parts of another that had been left behind during an intimate collision.

“Remember the last time we were here?”

Joan turned to the voice, smiling. “Of course…” She wrapped her arm around the shorter woman, pulling her close as they stared over the Dover Fault. “I never wanted that moment to end.”

Zoey took her hand, finger rubbing the smooth plane of the brand new golden band around Joan’s finger.

“It didn’t.”

Because like the continents, when the world had crashed together in a moment of upheaval, they had found some small, beautiful thing to cherish from the chaos.

#zoey x joan #zoey's extraordinary playlist #come from away #crossover #angst and tragedy #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #the crossover no one asked for #the author is clearly just mashing together two things they very much enjoy and seeing what happens

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