#just as my day job got busier through a colleague being sick

[ghosthermione-reads]

Feeling a bit guilty that, although i reached my reading goal for the year, of 95 books, about 1/3rd of the paper "books" are short stories or novellas I read for the Hugos. I counted my average and im at like 200p per books, which would be decent short novels or novellas.

Then I remember that, actually, this year has been the busiest I've ever been. I was secretary of a rescue charity ("association") and worked on financial applications for that, I switched jobs and dealt with the anxiety of the last job being thieves and liars and gaslighting and pressuring you into 40h weeks, I've gotten used to new job at its peak time + having 1h to get to it each way (yay audiobooks!) and finally, I organized a Christmas market for the rescue's benefit, with close to 40 small creators, , from finding the room to rent to actually being there on the day to filing paperwork that nobody had even heard of in previous years.

I considered lowering my goal at some point but I haven't. and I also managed to play more games this year I think, and not feel guilty about how "i should be reading"

so i will take that as a victory and continue reading whatever amount I read!

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

Despite rivalry...we’ll always be friends...even if neither of us know it

Characters: Dazai Osamu (main character); Chuya Nakahara (main character); Mori Ougai; OC-Asahi Ruki; Port Mafia

Warnings: slight mentions of torture (just mentions of how dazai was a torturer in his PM days); dark themes; tsundereness; cursing (of course it’s Chuya)

Notes: Hi everyone! I apologize for not posting in a while. I just needed to rest my tired brain after the exams for a few days. So here, have some platonic soukoku content i’ve written. This can also be found on AO3 on my account name: xXxNoLongerHumanXxX. Also, sorry about not doing an event for my 100 followers milestone yet. I’ll get that done as soon as I have time for it.

_______________________________________________________

The city lights of Yokohama shine brightly like stars. It looks beautiful against the back-drop of the midnight sky. The snow white moon illuminates the much darker parts of Yokohama. But the darkest place of all, was none other than the Port Mafia. Even though you can see lights on from the outside decorating the jet black buildings, it's sinister and might I say bloody secrets is what made it much more darker than any other place in the city.

But there was something, no someone much more sinister than everyone else who worked in the mafia. He was feared immensely not only by civilians and enemies, but by his very own colleagues as well. Torture was his specialty. Whether it's for interrogation or punishment, he'll do it with a sadistic smile and enjoy the pained expressions that his victims make.

His pitch black suit and coat as well as the white bandage over his right eye made him all the more intimidating, His wavy, somewhat unruly hair was a dark chocolate brown. The eyes belonging to this man were a mocha brown but ever so darkened to match his cold expression when giving commands or in the presence of an enemy. This Port Mafia Executive's name was Dazai Osamu, also known as the 'Demonic Prodigy'. There's a saying in the Port Mafia, "The biggest misfortune for Dazai's enemies, is that they're Dazai's enemies."

But as much as he might seem cold, he acts like a little child as well. This can be seen when he's with two of his 'friends' that he goes drinking with to Bar Lupin. He'll even joke about his suicidal tendencies and experiment with little things such as cooking, much like a kid does. Only to have his friends try his dish and end up with twisting stomachs in the morning.

His childish antics can also be seen with another mafia executive, his name being Chuya Nakahara. A rather bit shorter than average height for his age. He had graceful ginger locks in his hair with a longer section falling over his left shoulder. His formal attire was red and black, his signature colors. And of course his beloved fedora topped his head much like a sundae that's topped off with a red cherry.

Dazai and Chuya, despite being partners often bickered, regardless their age of eighteen, they never seemed to stop fighting like children who can't stand each other. But maybe for just one night, they might actually stop bickering for once. ________________________________________

One of the members of the Port Mafia thought of an idea but started regretting it when he thought of the boss. A party? At the Port Mafia? There's no way Mori would ever agree to such a thing. But the thought had good intentions. The Port Mafia had just finished off a rival gang and it surely was a tedious job. But they succeeded in executing them. This one member wanted to celebrate the fact they're all still alive and their victory.

He decides to take the chance one morning and head to Mori Ougai's office. Once reaching the doors of the office after getting through security, he hesitantly places his hands on the door knobs and pauses. He takes a deep breath and opens the doors, closing them behind him. He turns back around to find Mori playing dress up with Elise, she didn't seem happy to try anything on though. He clears his throat and makes his appearance known, "Boss, it's Asahi Ruki I have come to propose an idea that I hope you approve of." he says trying to sound confident.

Mori shifts himself in the chair towards his left to see who has entered and then gives his signature sickeningly sweet smile, "Ah yes Asahi-kun. What is this idea you have in mind?" Asahi stands with his hands behind his back and holds a professional upright posture, "Yes, my idea is..." "Go on, spill it out, I'm listening." Mori teases when Asahi pauses mid sentence. "My idea is...that we...throw a party, not necessarily extravagant, to celebrate our victory against the vile rival gang that we have just gotten rid off. And the fact that everyone's still alive. I've discussed this with a few fellow colleagues and they seem to be excited for such an event." he continues, cursing himself for stuttering the first few words. "...very well then, it would be a good idea, after all, why not some fun after such a tedious and stressful job?" Mori chuckles as he nods. "A party! Finally something exciting around this crappy place!" exclaims Elise.

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of Asahi's temple as he gulps when he hears Elise's words. "Thank you Boss, should I make the arrangements?" "No, leave that to me and the executives, thank you, you may be excused now if there's nothing else." replies Mori yet again with that sick smile. Asahi bows and turns around to leave, silently cheering that his idea was approved of and most of all, his head didn't get chopped off. Back in the office, Elise starts putting on her normal attire and starts contemplating all the possible party ideas. Mori just looks on with a pout on his lips.

"...do you really think this place is "crappy" my dear Elise-chan?" ___________________________________________

A week later or so, the demonic prodigy walks through the red velvet halls of the Port Mafia to get to his rather "boring" office as he calls it. He notices people a tad bit busier than usual today. It seemed as if he was oblivious to the fact that that day was the day of the party approved by the Boss and proposed by a mafioso named Asahi. But he wasn't. He just didn't like the idea of parties. Too noisy, too rowdy, too many people for his liking.

Mori had called him numerous times on his cellphone to get him to come to his office to plan this event, but before he would even bother about picking up the call, he knew what is was about already. He finally makes it to his "boring" office and shuts the door behind him with the heel of his shoe. He takes his hands out of his pockets and settles down at his desk. Tons of paperwork lay on his desk and there were at least four more piles of paperwork to be done on the floor. He groans at the sight of them, all that is unnecessary and too much of a tedious job to do.

He spins around in his chair in endless circles and finally stops when he hears a knock at his door. 'Great, which fool is here to bother me now.' he grumbles internally. "Come in" he says hiding his annoyance behind an expressionless voice. The door opens and the last person he wants to see steps in. "Hey suicidal maniac. There's a party this evening at about 9 til' late. You weren't in Mori's office to plan the damn thing, where the heck where you!? Goofing off?" says Chuya with annoyance lacing his voice. "I don't care for such things. It's so useless to waste time on such a stupid event." Dazai replies nonchalantly. "And yes, I wasn't exactly goofing off...I was trying out this new method of suicide! You see this is how you do it, first you..." "Shut up Mackerel I don't want to hear your stupid attempts of ending your life, are coming to the party or what?"

"Hmmm, how about no. Parties are so annoying." Dazai whines while slumping his upper body over his desk. "Fine by me, finally I can be free of you and actually have a good time and..." "Blah-blah-blah, I don't wanna hear how much you're going to enjoy your time acting like the fool you are, Slug." Dazai smirks. "Bastard!" Chuya grimaces and leaves shutting the door with a bang behind him. Dazai doesn't even wince at the annoyingly loud noise and goes back to spinning in his chair. He stops again but not because there's someone at the door, but at his own thoughts intruding his mind.

He sighs heavily and displays an empty and solemn look on his face, which he'll never show anyone. ___________________________________________

It was currently 9:00 pm and most of the Port Mafia members like Higuchi, Tachihara, Gin and others helped with the decorations earlier that day. And they got it done fast too, without hassles, except for Tachihara who slipped off a ladder while hanging decorations and fell. Akutagawa of course wasn't going to be at such a 'hideous' event as he called such unnecessary gatherings.

Dazai was at Bar Lupin, tonight however he was alone, no Odasaku, no Ango. He takes a sip of the amber whiskey in front of him and sighs out of relief as well as boredom. He ran out of suicide methods to try. A man wearing a fedora and crimson red button up shirt with coal black formal pants makes his way to the bar and enters. Dazai doesn't seem to notice at all. At this point he's too lost in his fog of thoughts to bother about anyone else. "Hey suicidal maniac!" calls Chuya as he comes down the steps in the bar with a fine bottle of one of the most expensive wines he's ever bought in his gloved hand.

Dazai turns his attention towards the ginger and for once in his life he's genuinely surprised not expecting Chuya to be here. "What are you doing here Chuya? I thought you'd be drunk out of your mind by now." Dazai snickers. "So early? The party only started half an hour ago!" "Knowing you, you'd go there half drunk." Dazai laughs. "Hey shut that mouth of yours you stupid Mackerel, I was bored and decided to come here instead!" "Since when do you come to Bar Lupin? And did you decide to come here because you were bored, or did you come here knowing I'd be here?" Dazai smirks.

"Shut up already will you!" Chuya yells angrily at Dazai's teasing and takes a seat next to him and places down his wine. "So answer which is it!" Dazai exclaims. "Bastard, I came here because I was bored of course! And besides you weren't at the party either. Perhaps it got boring because I wasn't constantly running around after you trying to stop you from causing havoc!"

Dazai chuckles, "Are my antics that entertaining?" "Hey, don't act all smug! All I'm saying is that I've gotten so used to your annoying and bizarre antics that other things seem somewhat boring." "Ah, I see." Dazai says and leans forward to take a sip of his drink. Chuya was lying though, the party wasn't boring at all, he felt bad that Dazai wasn't there, and decided not to go because of the suicidal maniac. As much as Chuya hates him, he still enjoys his company nonetheless, even if he doesn't know it.

"Ugh, it's getting boring here too!" exclaims Chuya out of frustration. "Yeah, it got boring since you arrived." Dazai remarks. "Why you!..." Chuya aims to kick at Dazai's calf but fails miserably as Dazai casually got up before Chuya could even graze him. "Since it's boring here, let's get outta here then hmm?" Dazai suggests. "...idiot, fine." he gets up makes his way out of the bar with Dazai, of course taking his precious wine with him. "How come you don't like parties? You're already an animal, I'm sure you wouldn't have trouble fitting in with a bunch of party animals." Chuya smirks.

"I already told you earlier you stupid Slug, it's useless and a waste of time!" Dazai replies. "But why is what I'm asking you!!!" "I just don't." "...don't be vague Mackerel." "...fine, they're too noisy and rowdy for my liking, besides there's too many annoying people like you there."

"Do you seriously have to insult me in everything you say!?" exclaims a frustrated Chuya. "Yes, yes I do." Dazai says nonchalantly not evening glancing at the short ginger walking beside him. "...stupid Mackerel." grumbles the ginger. "Hey why don't we go on the rooftop of that building and just chill there for a while hmm?" suggests the demonic prodigy. "...fine." The two mafia executives make their way to the very top of a building, Chuya silently curses Dazai because he doesn't have an ability that will take him to the rooftop in a just a few seconds. Chuya thought he could have just used his ability but Dazai's would only nullify it.

"Finally!" Chuya exclaims in excitement after climbing stairs after stairs to reach the rooftop. "We survived! Great job petite mafioso." Dazai snickers and walks passed him to go to the very edge of the rooftop. "Don't you dare even think about jumping you bastard!" Chuya yells from where he is. "Already thought about it!" Dazai replies and sits down letting his legs dangle off the building. He pats the place next to him motioning for Chuya to sit. The ginger makes his way over and reluctantly sits next to the person he supposedly despises the most. "That's some expensive wine you've got there." Dazai remarks. "Yeah, it is to you." the ginger says as he takes it in his hands and pops open the bottle with his ability. "I thought you only open such expensive wines on special occasions?" "If I'm hanging out with you, it must be a special occasion." "Chuya! You're such a wonderful human being!" "Go to hell, I'll probably regret it in the morning." "You're such a tsundere." "I SAID GO TO HELL!" shouts Chuya before taking a big gulp of the wine straight from the bottle.

"How am I supposed to go to hell, if I'm already there?" Dazai smiles sickeningly sweet. "Tsk, what kind of philosophy is that!?" "Ugh, nevermind I'm surprised you use such a big word as 'philosophy'." "For the last time today, SHUT UP!" "Aww, is the petite mafioso getting all upset?" Dazai teases. Chuya swings a fist at him but of course Dazai dodges it with ease. "Bastard." The ginger then offers the wine bottle to the brunette begrudgingly. "Uh, I don't drink wine but since there's nothing else..." Dazai takes the bottle and drinks almost half the bottle one time. "Hey easy! I want some too!" Chuya say trying to stop his partner in crime.

"Mmm, this is some sweet wine." says Dazai giving back the half empty wine bottle to Chuya. "Geez, how greedy." "Hey hatrack." "What do you want!?" "What's the real reason you didn't go to the party?" asks Dazai as he looks at the midnight black sky. "...ugh, the real reason...I didn't want you to feel alone or left out and besides it would have been much more boring there anyway." "Not so much of a tsundere now huh?" Chuya says teasing Dazai. "Oh keep quiet will you!? Be grateful that I chose to hang out with the person I despise the most in the world!" "Yeah yeah sure." Dazai leans back and lays down on the rooftop with his hands behind his neck. Chuya glances at him and then does the same. "Why do you constantly annoy me all the time?" asks Chuya and this time, he doesn't sound annoyed or angry but rather calm.

"I dunno, it's entertaining I guess?" "You seriously use me for your entertainment? Tsk, you always use people for your personal needs anyway." and he takes another swig of the wine again. "...I don't use you...not all the time" "Idiot" and he yet again takes another swig of the wine. "No wonder why you don't have friends Mackerel." "Who says I need friends?" "I say you need friends." "...why?" "So that you're not lonely all the time and trying to constantly kill yourself."

"...why would you care about such a thing?" Dazai figures Chuya's almost drunk by now. "Oh see. now who's being a tsundere!?" "...whatever..." he still gazes up at the sky as if searching for something. Chuya realizes what Dazai's doing and does the same, "Here have some more before I finish the bottle." Dazai glances at the bottle in Chuya's hand and takes it drinking all of it. "Hey! I was supposed to finish it! Stupid Mackerel!" but he doesn't sound all too disappointed this time when he shouts at Dazai.

"Hey Chuya?" “Finally you call me by my name...what do you want Dazai?" "Thanks for hanging out with me tonight, didn't know you cared that much about me." he tries to tease towards the end of his sentence. "It's nothing, just thought you might need a friend to keep you company." Chuya says, eyes droopy hinting he was tired and drunk. Dazai's eyes widen when he heard Chuya say that, he glanced over at the ginger and sees him trying to fight his sleep. Dazai gets up and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Let's go home now Chuya, I knew you'd get drunk out of your mind." "Tsk" Chuya gets up slowly and leaves with Dazai, leaving behind the empty wine bottle they shared. Despite their rivalry, they're friends...even if neither of them know it.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Matchmaker or stripper sternclay?

I chose the following: “I strip because I enjoy it and it’s good money, but I didn’t expect to be hired for your friend’s bachelor party. hello, professor“

Given the prompt and where it went, This is Not Suitable For you Workplace. It’s a lemon, in the language of the olden times.

Note: I have an additional part of this planned, if people end up being interested in it.

Most days, Lucky Stern likes this job.

Stripping isn’t what he’d imagined he’d do during college. But it keeps his head above water and the loans from overwhelming him. He likes most of his colleagues, and the place he works is in the gay neighborhood, which is relatively safe when he gets off at weird hours of the night. Plus it means he gets more exercise than he probably otherwise would as a student working two jobs.

So yeah, most days are fine.

Then there are days like the one he’s having now.

He’s one of two dancers hired for a bachelor party, a small one at a nice house in the fancy, woodsy part of town. He and his partner are doing one of their favorite routines (Scully and Mulder, with his partner doing the drag for Scully), so he’s feeling confident.

Until he turns around and sees a familiar face.

His professor.

Technically his former professor. Also, technically, the professor he’s had a raging crush on for two years.

Barclay, as he asked his students to call him, was an athro professor, but Stern had him for a folklore class (“Cryptids in American Folklore and Culture”) as he finished his depth requirements during his sophmore year.  It was his favorite class of the year, and that was only partially due to his professor looking like a lumberjack centerfold (he’s on the younger end of professors, that much Stern knows). Barclay made the material engaging and challenging and shared Sterns fascination with cryptids and their role in the world. And so Stern went to office hours, sometimes because he needed a clarification and (most times) to talk with Barclay about his theories or research  or the latest episode of the ridiculous Bigfoot hunting show they both watched.  They kept meeting even when Stern moved into the next semester and the semester after that. His life got busier, but he still made time once a week to drop in on his favorite professor (and time after to go somewhere private to jack off to the idea of having sex in his office).

Hell, he was in Barclays office five days ago, telling him he’d scored a paid internship after graduation that might, one day, get him a job investigating paranormal phenomena.

And now here he is, looking as surprised as Stern feels.

He can’t bolt, he can’t, they’d probably demand a refund and he’d screw himself and his partner out of a nights pay. So he goes through the routine on autopilot, though every time he hazards a glance at Barclay the other man is looking down. Except for when they finish, both down to what could be called a thong, if you were being generous. Then he’s staring, and Stern’s never felt more exposed.

They disappear back into the kitchen (their staging area) even as some of the attendees cheer for more. He tells his partner to go for it, then throws on an undershirt and pants so he can go into the garden and have a panic attack.

He’s doubled over, stress dry-heaving into some shrubs. It’s not that he’s ashamed, but he’s heard so many horror stories about people who stripped having a client who recognized them blab and cost them their job or their social circle or, or..

A water glass enters his vision.

“Thanks.” He rasps.

“No problem.”

He stands bolt upright, turns,  finds Barclay standing in front of him looking worried. For a moment an awkward pause fills the night air.

“Found a way to pay for school, huh?”

“Yes. What do I have to do to convince you not to tell anyone?” He sighs, tries to keep his shoulders from shaking with pent up panic.

“Convince me to-oh, Lucky, hey, you don’t have to anything.” A hand rests on his shoulder, the gesture familiar and comforting.

“Hold on, are there other people who know and are making you do stuff?” His tone is deathly serious.

“No, it’s just, I got a bit jumpy and went into damage control mode. I apologize.” He takes another sip of water, still can’t look Barclay in the eye (he may be the only man Stern actually has to look up to talk to).

“Listen, I know folks who did the same thing and god knows you’re not the only student at the school who’s landed on this as the best way to avoid money troubles. So no judgement or anything from me, okay.”

Stern nods.

“How’s your stomach?”

“Still feels like shit, but less so.”

“C’mon, lemme make you some tea, it might help.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Need a break from the festivities myself, you’ll be doing me a favor.” He smiles and Stern tries not to melt at the sweetness in it.

They head back into the kitchen and Barclay moves through it effortlessly as he grabs a kettle, a mug, and some tea.

“So…how do you know the groom? Or is it grooms?”

“Grooms. I know Ned better than his fiance, met him through friend of mine named Duck. I’m willing to bet Ned’s the one who hired you guys. He can never pass up a chance to be over the top. Plus I imagine both him and Boyd are enjoying themselves.

“Boyd?”

“Groom number two, guy with all the tattoos and muscles.”

There’s a whoop from the other room just as the kettle boils.

Barclay sets the mug in front of Stern before continuing to putter about the kitchen.

“You hungry at all.”

“Not really, what with panic and the puking.”

“Good point. Lemme know if you start feeling different.”

Stern blows on his tea to cool it, catches Barclay looking at him.

He’s blushing.

“Was the Agent Mulder bit something you picked, or just a happy accident.”

“I picked it as one of my go-tos. Everything said to choose things that made me feel confident and sexy and well, you know me.”

“Yeah, future special agent Stern. Can see why you picked it, it looks good on you.” He sticks a serving knife into a pan of brownies. Stern wishes he had an appetite, there’s some really good food in here.

Wait, does he smell buffalo wings?

Indeed he does. There they are, sitting on a tray, probably left over from dinner.

He loves buffalo wings.

“Help yourself.” Barclay grins as he slides the tray across the island to him, passes a napkin along behind it.

Sterns resolve lasts two seconds and then takes a bite.

“These are amazing.” He whispers and Barclay chuckles.

“Thanks, came up with the mix for the sauce myself. Took a few passes to get the texture right.”

“You made these?”

“Made basically all the food for tonight. It’s a hobby, and like cooking for my friends.”

“That’s very attractive.” He murmurs, taking another bite of the wing. Barclay arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

The kitchen door swings open and one of the guests comes in, a bigger guy wearing dark green.

“Hidin in the kitchen already?” He drawls at Barclay, before catching sight of Stern, “Oh, howdy, your friend out there said you were feelin sick all of a sudden. You doin okay? Barclay behavin himself?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry for leaving you all with less than you paid for.”

“To be honest, think your friend’s got it covered. Only a few of the fellas are into the whole, uh, whole, y’know.” He gestures at Sterns outfit.

“You’re not dying to have someone cute and mostly naked in your lap, Duck?” Barclays tone is teasing.

“If I wanted that, Indrid is right there.”

“How’s he enjoying the dancers?”

“He’s had too many of those hard sodas, so he’s the kind of drunk where all he wants to do is stare at the lamp with the color changin bulb. Relatedly,” he grabs a water glass and fills it, “I ain’t drinkin anymore tonight so I can get us home safe.”

“Here, take Indrid one of these.” Barclay slips a brownie onto a small plate.

“Thanks, man. See you in a bit.” Then he disappears.

“He seems nice.”

“Yeah, Duck’s a good guy. He and Indrid got married about a year ago, think that man’s gonna be in the honeymoon stage for the rest of his life.”

“Is everyone here married or about to be?” Stern had assumed a bachelor party would have more, well, bachelors.

“I’m not.” Barclay shrugs and Stern nearly chokes on his food when the larger man gives him a suggestive look and sits down beside him.

“What about you? Anyone waiting at home to rub your…legs after a hard nights work?”

“That’s oddly specific, and no.”

“Gotta say I’m surprised. You’re the complete package, smart, hard-working, good looking, only a little messy.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fastidious-oh” Barclay reaches forward, wipes stray sauce from the edge of his mouth. Stern takes a chance, turns his head slightly and brings the tip of the thumb into his mouth and playfully bites it. Barclay inhales sharply, pupils widening, before slowly pulling his hand back.

“Easy, tiger, I’m not making any kind of move until you’re not a student.”

“I don’t have any classes with you, we’re not even in the same department.” Well, that came out as more of a whine that he wanted.

“That’s my policy, babe. I don’t date any students or TAs, period.”

“But graduation’s not for another month.”

“Gives you time to change your mind safely. And if you still want it, then it gives you lots of time to savor the anticipation.” His deep voice is almost a purr as he brings a hand around to rub Sterns neck, pulling them closer as a result.

“You’re a scrupulous man, Barclay, and right now I could kill you for it.”

“Believe me, it’s as hard for me as it is for you. But if we do, well, anything like that, I want to treat you right and on the level from the start.”

He presses a kiss on the top of Sterns head before sitting back.

“Oh HO!”

Stern jumps and Barclay groans

“Hey, Ned.”

“Here I thought you were simply preparing more refreshments and seeing to our under the weather guest.”

“I’m doing exactly that.”

“Barclay, there were specific rules I agreed to when I hired them-”

“So it was you”

“-and one was that there were to be no private sessions OR touching of the performers.”

Barclay is turning shades of pink never before seen by human eyes.

“It’s alright, really, Barclay was just helping me calm down.”

The man, Ned, look’s concerned.

“Did something happen?”

Stern racks his brain for a half-truth to explain the whole thing.

“Ned, this gentleman is a student at the college. He and I know each other, so you can imagine it was a bit of an unwelcome surprise for him to see me here, so I was doing what I could to help him feel better. And so help me, Ned fucking Chicane, if you ever repeat that piece of information about him to anyone, I will never let you near my cooking again.”

“You have my word. My real one.” Ned looks genuinely somber, “now that’s out of the way.” He bursts into a deep belly laugh.

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy, for landing you in such a difficult, but hilarious, situation. I will be sure to inform your employer that we were all extremely satisfied tonight and wish to add a considerable gratuity on top of what your friend out there has collected from my betrothed.”

“Thank you.” And Stern thought he knew academics with bloated vocabularies. This guy takes the cake.

“My pleasure.” He winks at them and heads back out into the living room.

Stern gives Barclay a perplexed look.

“That’s Ned Chicane? The guy who runs the Cryptonomica? How the fuck can he afford this place.”

“I’ve learned it’s best not to ask.” Barclay steps onto the floor, offers his hand, “C’mon, handsome, help me get the desserts ready.”

“Only if you let me lick whip cream off you.”

“Bold, but no. Not for another month.” He hands him serving tool and Stern takes it with a smile.

—————————————–

Stern has been a graduate all of two days.

Last night was spent with his folks, who were delighted and proud and took him out to dinner.

Tonight he’s working the club, and getting more distracted by the minute. Because someone special is picking him up tonight.

He’s changing into his street clothes when Ray, the most classic butch lesbian he’s ever met and the best bouncer in the city, taps him.

“Hey, there was a bigger fella who came in during your last number and watched like a fucking hawk. Saw him i the back parking lot with a car. Don’t recognize him as a regular. You need someone to walk home with you?”

“Was he taller than me and wearing plaid?”

“Yep.”

“It’s alright, I know him. He’s my date.”

Ray gives him a thumbs up as he steps out the back door.

Barclay leans against the side of his car and watches Stern as he approaches.

“Hey there.” He stands up straight, opens his arms and pulls Stern into a hug.

“I didn’t expect you to catch part of the show.”

“Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what it looked like when you weren’t dealing with a massive, unwelcome surprise. Gotta say, you looked pretty damn good.”

“Apparently you were watching me so intently I had to convince the bouncer you weren’t an unwelcome suitor.”

“Nope, nothing but pure intentions.”

“Is that so?” He rolls his hips and Barclay hisses with pleasure.

“I could see you were hard from the other end of the parking lot.”

Barclay grins, and then pulls Stern in for a kiss, mouth hot and hungry against his own. Stern rolls his hips again and Barclay growls, pushes him against the car.

“You got me, my intentions are fifty percent pure and fifty percent ‘if you don’t get in the car I’m gonna lose what’s left of my self control and fuck you over the hood.”

“Jesus.” Stern moans, one hand searching for the handle of the door. Barclay pulls back and grabs it, opening the door and gesturing for Stern to get in.

By the time they get to Barclays place, Stern is close to passing out from excitement.  Barclay is on him as soon as they’re safely inside the apartment, tossing keys and jacket haphazardly towards the kitchen counter even as he pushes Stern up against it. His kisses are only broken when he speaks.

“Goddamn, this is worth every time I had to lock my office door and fuck my own hand after you came to see me.”

Stern moans at the image, kisses his way across Barclays cheek while he tugs at this shirt.

“You’re one-of-a-kind, Lucky. Didn’t think I stood a chance with you.”

“Likewise. God, Barclay OHgod” The larger man grinds against him, hands digging into his ass.

“Where do you want to start? Assuming you still want to ohokay.” Barclay laughs as Stern drops to knees and starts undoing his belt, “hold on, got a condom in my jacket.” There’s a rustling above him and in a few seconds Barclay hands him the foil packet.

“Presumptuous.” Stern teases as he unzipps his fly.

“I wanted to be ready in case we didn’t even make it to the apartment.”

Stern smiles to himself at that as he yanks Barclays pants and boxers down; the man is exceedingly thoughtful and oh. Oh lord, he is big. He cock is thick and long and Stern needs it in his mouth right now.

As he rolls the condom on he notices Barclay looking down at him with just as much affection as lust in his eyes.

Before Stern can take him in his mouth, a hand grips his chin and holds him in a place.

“Something you want?”

“I assumed that was obvious.”

Barclay clucks his tongue.

“You want it, you gotta ask for it.”

“I want to suck your cock.”

“Close, but not quite. Need you to ask nicely.” Barclay uses his other hand to move his cock against Sterns lips teasingly.

“Please let me suck your cock?”

“Much better.” Barclay releases his chin, braces his hand on the counter,  and Stern gratefully opens his mouth, takes the first inch or so in. He shuts his eyes just as warm fingers ghost across his cheek.

Jesus, he can feel his mouth getting sore from the stretch and it’s been a maximum of thirty seconds and something about that idea, of there being so much of Barclay and it’s all his, makes him moan. He pushes his head forward, takes in more of the shaft and rolls his tongue across it. Tries for more, winces when it starts getting close to this throat.

“Easy, tiger.” Barclays fingers card through his hair, “don’t hurt yourself. Need that sweet mouth of yours in good shape if I’m gonna keep fucking it.”

Stern whines, brings one hand to cover the rest of his cock while the other traces zig-zags on Barclays ass.

“I know, you just want to please don’t you?”

The moan that leaves him is instantaneous and he nods. He’d fantasized about partners saying things like that, dominant and sweet all at once, but hadn’t worked up the courage to ask.

He’s kicking himself for not finding a way to practice deep-throating, he’s seen the bulge in Barclays jeans for months (years) and knew it was formidable.

The hand brushing hair from his forehead steers him from those thoughts.

“Don’t gotta worry about how much of my cock fits. I like it fast, with a lot of pressure. Think you can do that for me?”

Stern locks eyes with him as he eagerly nods, tightens his grip and works his hand rapidly, pre-cum and saliva helping him along. Focuses less on depth and more on sucking, pleasure pulsing through him whenever Barclays cockhead makes contact with his cheek.

“Shit, yeah, that’s it. Goddamn, look at you, wanna watch that  face bob up and down on my cock every night.” There’s a sharp thwack as Barclay slaps his other hand down on the counter and groans. Stern keeps his head still, moves his hand as fast as he’s able and sucks hard, tongue swiping at the tip

“I’m close, babe, so fucking close. Lemme hear you, I wanna hear how much you like sucking my cock.”

Stern moans from deep in his chest, lets a series of broken moans punctuate the small jerks of Barclays hips, the only movement he’s made in his mouth.

“That’s it, fuck FUCK, Lucky, baby, so good.” He cums with another groan, one hand dropping down to hold Sterns head in place. There’s a panting growl as he adds, “gonna keep my cock in your mouth for hours one of these nights” and Sterns whole body pings with interest both at the image and at the promise of this being an ongoing arrangement.

Barclay carefully pulls back, and by the time Stern gets to his feet he’s opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a napkin, which Stern gladly accepts.

“That was…damn.” Barclay chuckles, kissing his neck as he finishes wiping his mouth.

“Did I, uh..” Barclay looks at him curiously and he nearly chickens out, “did I do well?”

Something exceedingly hungry flashes behind the taller mans eyes and he strokes a thumb across Sterns lips.

“Yeah, you did. You were real good for me, Lucky.” The chasteness of the kiss that follows these words is in stark contrast to lascivious tone they take as he continues, “you gonna keep being my good boy tonight.”

Before Stern can respond, two things happen: his stomach gives an comically loud gurgle, and his thighs twinge from that nights work.

Barclay chuckles and Stern glares at the lower half of his body.

“How dare you sabotage the mood at a time like this?” He hisses, which only makes Barclay laugh harder as he pulls his underwear and pants back up.

“I’ll make you some dinner. Have a seat.”

Stern drops into a chair and watches Barclay root through the fridge, pulling out a few containers and tossing butter into a pan. His leg is still twinging, so he stands, swings it up and rests his heel on the table to stretch it out.

Barclay drops the wooden spoon he was holding, along with his jaw.

“The dancing helps with flexibility.” Stern shrugs, casually.

“No kidding.”

“The stove is beginning to smoke.”

“Shit! Ah, well, guess you’re having leftover risotto warmed in really brown butter.”

Stern does, and it’s delicious.

As he eats, he slips his shoes off and Barclay motions for him to put his foot in his lap and proceeds to gently rub it as he chats with Stern about the research he’ll be conducting over the summer.

“..So yeah, it’s mostly pouring through interviews and newspapers, but maybe there’s one roadtrip in the mix.” He glances down at Sterns plate, now clean, then smirks at him.

“Care to continue this conversation in the bedroom?”

“Very much so.”

Barclay takes his hand and leads him into a room down the hall. Like the rest of the space, it looks as though someone tried to cram an Appalachian lodge into one bedroom apartment.

“Legs still sore?” He murmurs, arms around Sterns waist and lips grazing the back of his neck.

“Yes, but it’s fine, I don’t want that to get in the way of whatever you had planned.”

There’s a soft laugh against his skin.

“Still trying so hard to be good me, huh?”

Sterns melts back against him with breathy “yes.”

“Then take your clothes off and lay on the bed. Facedown. Underwear can stay on, if that’s more comfortable.”

Stern whips off his t-shirt, tosses his jeans after it and flops onto the bed on his stomach. He can’t really see what Barclay’s doing, feels the bed dip after a few moments. And then something cool hits his thigh. For a second he thinks it’s stray lube and Barclay is getting right to the point, but then fingers begin kneading at his muscles and he sighs into the pillow.

“See, Lucky, here’s the thing; you wanna be good for me, you gotta accept that means I’m gonna be good to you.” Barclays hand presses down towards his calf, stopping to thumb at a knot, “don’t gotta try to give me the right answers or anything like that. Just gotta tell me what you want.”

Slowly but sure he works his way down one leg and then up the other before lightly tapping Sterns ass.

“Roll over.”

When Stern does, his breath catches in his throat; Barclay’s in only his boxers, his body otherwise bare and broad and so appealing Stern thinks this may be a dream.

Barclay runs a hand appreciatively down his chest, drinking him in.

“You act like you’ve never seen me in my underwear before. Which is demonstrably false.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t do this” the hand moves across Sterns hips, “or this” down to his thigh, “or this” it’s on his cock, gently stroking it up.

“Fair point, ohhhhh.” His back arches as Barclay adds more pressure and he frantically tugs his boxer briefs off, Barclay not missing a beat before taking his cock in his hand. The larger man shifts so he’s laying on his side, hand still working Stern over and lips kissing his cheeks.

“I want you to tell me when you get close. You gonna do that?”

“Yes, Barclay, I promise, I oh, oh fuck.” Barclays grip and pace turn relentless and Stern lets himself be carried away by the feeling until his orgasm starts building.

“Close, I’m, oh fuck you.” Barclays hand stills as he leans in and bites Sterns ear.

“What did I say earlier about being polite?” The growl in his voice makes Stern whimper and wriggle his hips.

“I, I, apologize, please, pleaseplease keep going.”

“Much better.” He starts stroking him again, panting against his ear, and soon Stern feels himself getting close. He could just not tell him. But where’s the fun in that?

“I’m so close again.”

“You wanna come.”

“Yes, please Barclay I want to so badly, I want to come in your hand, wanna come for you, I want, I want-” He’s babbling, he must sound absurd, but Barclay moans, kisses him hard.

“Then be a good boy and come for me.”

Stern bucks his hips, thrusting as best he can in time with Barclays movements and then he’s coming, Barclays name an obscene sound on his lips.

He lays, shaking, as it finishes washing over him, and then Barclay kisses his forehead.

“You did so well. You were so good for me.”

Stern turns his head, makes small, needy noise that Barclay correctly interprets as wanting a kiss. Then he slides of the bed, returning with a towel for the stray cum on Sterns stomach. He’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do now.

“Do I, should I go?”

“Only if you want to. Be glad if you stayed the night, but don’t want you to if it feels weird.”

“I’d like to, very much.”

Stern means to get up and get ready for bed, or at least ask for pajamas. But Barclay is there and warm and holding him and he’s so happy and so sleepy that he drops off into pleasant dreams, the feeling of Barclays breath slow and even against the back of his neck.

Some disastrous work days, he thinks as he dozes, have very happy endings indeed.

[rambling-at-midnight]

False Image: Part 2

At this point, you’re pretty sure the universe hates you.

You don’t know what you did to piss off fate, but it seems like everywhere you turn, there’s one of the Winchesters, or some appendage of them—Bobby, Jo, Gabe, and Cas don’t have the last name ‘Winchester’ but they’re all connected in some way.

At least none of your coworkers know Sam and Dean. From what you’ve seen of the boys’ fans, if someone does know them, they’d never stop talking about them. You’re surprised you haven’t fallen to what you’ve started to call the Winchester virus—yet.

You’ve never seen such a close-knit group of people and it’s really sweet, how much they seem to care for each other, but they’re always talking about Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean this, Sam and Dean that, Sam and Dean saved kittens from a house fire yesterday, this morning they saved one of their colleague’s lives.

Not that they aren’t great, because they are. And you’re glad they’re saving kittens’ lives, because you love kittens, and you’re glad nobody’s dying in local fires, but you’ve got a problem.

You blush.

A lot.

At a lot of things, like having to speak in front of small and large groups of people, you saying something dumb to someone you don’t really know, someone asking you a question you don’t know the answer to, someone teasing you, someone questioning you in general, lying, and so much more.

Basically, if no one looked at you, everything would be peachy.

And for some reason you don’t really want to know, the mere mention of Sam freakin’ Winchester makes you red-hot like the firetrucks he rides in.

Oh, and did you forget to mention, you blushing so much makes you embarrassed, but the more embarrassed you are, the more you blush?

So, it’s either you start wearing an unholy amount of makeup to stop from looking like a tomato every time someone mentions Sam’s name—and jeez, are the boys, like, local celebrities or something? Everyone knows them—or you, like, get over this weird crush thing. You’ve not spent an hour in his presence, so how could you be so flustered over even his name ?

At least he’s not one of your patients. You’d probably catch fire if he came around and you had to sit in a closed-off room with him for a half hour.

Good thing he’s a firefighter, you think and chuckle aloud.

“What?” Your secretary and first friend in this town, Charlie Bradbury, asks without taking her eyes off her computer screen. You don’t know what she’s looking at; it’s all a bunch of black and white gibberish on the display.

“Sorry.” You shake your head and stow your phone in your coat pocket. “Just… thinking of a funny scene from a TV show I watched last night.” You can feel the heat rising up your cheeks and pray she isn’t looking at you. Charlie rarely takes her eyes off her computer screen, especially because she works another job while being your secretary. It’s not a lot of work, so she also works for the government in hacking into people’s electronic stuff. You’re not very good at all that stuff. Thank God she is.

“Hey, remind me who’s coming today?”

Charlie rapidly clicks the mouse, minimizing the gibberish screen and pulling up multiple files before finding the right one. She recites, “Brutus Crowley—” You smile at that. “Missy Walker, Dagger Chambers, Lola Banes, and Bailey Hanscum. Garth is taking care of all the other patients. Speaking of—” Charlie checks her watch. “He’s cutting it close again.”

“Cut him some slack, he’s an excited newlywed.” You sigh. “I think it’s sweet.”

Charlie pushes away from her computer and wheels over to you. “What’s that sigh for?”

“What sigh?” You look away and pick up your file for the day just to have something to do.

Charlie exaggerates a sigh and repeats, “‘I think it’s sweet.’ What’s that about?” She gasps. “Is there someone? A boy?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“No!” You crinkle your nose as if disgusted, but really you’re trying not to smile at the mental image of Sam that pops up in your head.

“A girl! I like girls, too, I’m not judging.”

“Speaking of, you need to bring Kara around sometime! You guys are still together, right?”

“Yes, we are, you would know if we weren’t, and you’re changing the subject.” Charlie puts her hands together prayer-style and regards you with squinted eyes.

You start to get red and look away, pretending to shuffle through the case files. It’s just a checkup for Brutus, but Missy’s been refusing food. And Dagger—

“You like someone.” Charlie gasps. “You don’t like Dean, do you? You’ve been talking about him a lot. You know he’s with Cas, right?” She grimaces. As if you’d ever be a homewrecker like that.

You pull a face. “No! Ew! I don’t like Dean—wait, you know Dean? And I haven’t been talking about him, like, at all!”

Charlie laughs. “Hey, look, as your closest friend, whenever you mention a potential love interest, I notice. It’s taken you long enough to get over Brady. You were talking about the Winchesters, especially more recently, and well… even I can admit they are smoking . And the tone of voice you used when you were talking about them… Besides, who doesn’t know Dean? Everyone knows Dean and—” Charlie’s mouth drops open. “Sam! Oh my God, you like Sam !”

“You do?”

You and Charlie turn at the sound of Garth’s voice. He shuts the back door and hangs up his coat and briefcase without taking his eyes off you.

“Hey, Garth!” you say loudly, trying to convey that you’re going to kill Charlie with your eyes. “How’s the wife?”

“She’s great. You like Sam?” he asks again, like you hadn’t heard him ask the first time. “Wow! I love Sam! I bet you guys will be great together!”

“No, I really—I really don’t ,” you insist. “You probably don’t even know the Sam we’re talking about—”

“Well, Winchester, duh.” Garth smiles and chuckles. “Are there any other Sams in the town?”

“Um, yes, three others, and Charlie’s just being stupid and projecting her happy lovey-dovey feels onto me. I’m focused on my work now. I don’t have time for distractions.”

“Y/N, you’re getting red,” Garth points out in a sing-song voice and picks up a sheet of paper from Charlie’s desk. Of course, that only makes you redder. “Oh, hey! Mrs. MacLeod is visiting with Leo today! I love Leo. He’s my favorite snake.”

“I think he’s our only snake,” Charlie muses, finally distracted, and you breathe a sigh of relief and check your watch.

“Oh! We’re opening in one minute! Is everything set up?”

“Y/N, relax. Even if things aren’t ready, the only person scheduled exactly for 9 is Crowley, and he literally could not care less.”

“Speak of the devil,” you say while poking your head out of the employee’s room. Crowley stands in front of the glass doors with Brutus at his side. The enormous Neapolitan Mastiff sits at his feet, perfectly obedient as always.

You mouth ‘one moment’ to Crowley, who rolls his eyes (you blush) and duck back into the room. “He’s here. Where are the keys?”

Charlie tosses them to you. “Did you know, Asa always puts them on the coat rack when he’s finished with the night shift? It took me forever to find them the first time and we were fifteen minutes late to open…” She continues to speak to Garth, who listens intently while preparing himself some coffee, and you welcome Crowley and his dog in with a large, genuine smile. Crowley is definitely an acquired taste and so is Brutus, but they’re both sweethearts once you get to know them.

“How are you today, Crowley?”

“I’m perfectly well, Y/N,” he responds in his dry British accent. “How are you?”

“I’m all right,” you reply. “A little stressed because of the move, but I’m excited too. And how is Brutus doing?” You crouch down to the dog’s level and scratch his head. “Just the checkup, huh?”

“That is correct. You are satisfied with the help you received through my company, though, aren’t you?”

“Oh, Mr. Asmodeus was lovely,” you assure him. “Packing up is just a hassle. You never know how much you own until you have to box it all up, right?”

Crowley laughs, probably only out of courtesy, but that’s one of the reasons why you like him. He’s always perfectly polite and courteous. You would think he’s only being nice to you because he’s nice to everyone (and that doubt does still cross your mind at times) but he’s taken to calling you Bird, and Charlie tells you he only calls people animals when he’s especially fond of them.

“You know, I almost wish Brutus would get sick more often,” you remark off-handedly. “I hardly ever see him, do I, boy?” You pat his head and lead him by his collar to the scale. “Not that I’d like to see him sick, though,” you add hastily.

“No offense taken, Bird,” Crowley assures you. “I did hear something about a training center for dogs…”

“I guess word has gotten around,” you say while writing down Brutus’ weight. “I mean, it is a training center and Brutus is, obviously, an angel. The sentiment is kind, though.”

“Wouldn’t it help to have another dog along to set an example?” Crowley asks.

You frown and tap your pen against your chin. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Perfect.” Crowley straightens his already-straight suit. “Then you’ll send me the schedule?”

“Y-yes.” Feeling yourself get redder, you change the topic. “Brutus has only gained a tenth of a pound since we’ve last seen him, so that aspect is fine.” You give the dog a treat, one of the many stowed in the pockets in your coat, and wink at Crowley. “Off to a private room, then.”

“Heel, boy,” Crowley commands and they follow after you.

“Now, I don’t suppose any of the answers from last year have changed?” you ask while listening to Brutus’ chest with your stethoscope.

Crowley settles himself into a chair with a regal dignity you didn’t think possible for a mere human. “Well, as the town grows, I become busier and busier, but I have hired a dog walker to take Brutus on his regular walks, and then I obviously exercise him in the park while I eat my lunch. Apart from that, nothing has changed.”

You mark that down on your clipboard. “Oh, I forgot to ask—did you bring in the feces we asked for?”

Crowley flourishes a Tupperware container full of Brutus’ poop that he’d pulled seemingly out of nowhere.

“Perfect, I’ll have Garth go over that immediately.” You stick your head out of the room and call, “Garth! We got poop !”

“That is a lot of poop,” Garth comments as he takes the container from you.

“Brutus is a big dog,” you reply. “Make sure you wash it out well, all right?”

Brutus seems perfectly healthy, so you send the two men off a few treats lighter and with Crowley’s number in your pocket. You have no idea where Crowley put the Tupperware container after you gave it back to him, but that’s just Crowley for you.

The rest of the day is a breeze. Gordon Walker was probably more worried than he needed to be, since his cat only has a small cold, but you sent them away with medication. Krissy Chambers’ bunny, Dagger, had a UTI.

You had a small break after that and got to hold Leo during his wellness examination and talk with Crowley’s mother, Rowena. You don’t know how she looks so young, considering her son is at least 45.

After that you got to meet Lola Banes, Alicia Banes’ new white rat. It was just a wellness examination for him as well, but he wasn’t exactly friendly. And Donna Hanscum’s energetic cocker spaniel, Bailey, has fleas.

At the end of the day, you sit slumped in the employee’s room, sipping out of a coffee. It’ll keep you up tonight, but at this point you’re too tired to make it back to your apartment. You need the caffeine.

“Long day, huh?” Charlie spins around in her chair once, a blur too fast for you to make eye contact with, before she gets back to typing.

You nod and heave a sigh. “I just need to get on a good sleeping schedule again, that’s all.”

“You’ll be back to yourself once the move is over.”

“God, I hope so.”

“Hey, you wanna head home now?” Charlie stands up from her computer and cracks her neck. “Garth and I can handle cleanup, or even Asa and whoever he works the ER with. You’ve earned a good night’s sleep.” Charlie takes the coffee cup out of your hands. “You won’t be able to sleep if you drink this.”

“I won’t be able to drive back if I don’t drink it,” you correct and grab for the coffee cup. All that happens is burning-hot coffee slops over the edge and you both snatch your hands away at the same time. The cup smashes on the floor and you hiss, shaking your hand.

“Fuck,” you both say at the same time, staring at the smashed cup on the ground.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, Charlie,” you immediately joke. “Hey, at least I’m a medical professional. I know how to bandage burns.”

“You know how to do everything,” Charlie grumbles as you wrap up her hand. “You should work the ER too, sometimes. Asa had to call Garth in because some cat was having troubles that he didn’t recognize. You’re the boss. The boss should be doing the hard work.”

“Yeah, Charlie, I’d sure love to work 24/7,” you say sarcastically. “I work the ER on Saturdays. Sundays are my off days.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” she says, ignoring your sarcasm. “You go home.”

You start to walk away but stop in the doorway. “Hey, Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you—forget it.”

“No, what?”

“I’ll get back to you after I ask Garth about it,” you evade, turning red again. You don’t want Charlie to know anything about it. At least Garth is moderately subtle. Charlie would probably punch Gordon in the face, and he hasn’t even done anything.

Garth is just finishing up with someone’s dog when you knock on his door.

“Bye, Mrs. O’Connor!” he calls cheerily. “Have a nice day!”

“You too, Mr. Fitzgerald,” she responds.

“Hey, Y/N,” Garth greets, turning around to grab a Clorox wipe. “Buddy really sheds a lot. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could take Missy Walker from now on?” You hold your breath as your face turns red.

“Why?”

“I don’t really like her.”

“What?” Garth laughs. His back is still turned and you’re grateful. You’re blushing hard right now. “Missy’s super sweet and you love cats. What’s really up, Y/N?”

“Nothing!” Your shoulder slips off the doorframe and you stumble. “Nothing, really, Garth. I just—she only comes in once in a while and most of the time I’m really busy and Krissy and Lee had to wait a long time while I was with Missy.” You take Missy’s file out from behind your back and shove it at him. “If it’s not any trouble…”

Bemused, Garth takes the papers and skims over them. “If you really don’t want to, Y/N, then sure, but—”

“Perfect! I’ll tell Charlie. Thanks, Garth!” You call, already out the door and down the hall so he can’t change his mind.

Charlie’s just finished cleaning up the spill when you hurl yourself into the room. “Garth’s going to be taking care of Missy from now on, all right?”

“Huh?”

“Garth agreed to take on Missy Walker from now on because I’ve got so many other patients,” you say slower and avoid where she’s crouching as you walk across the floor to grab a few coffee K cups for your one at home.

“Any reason why?”

“I felt super rushed today,” you fib and hang up your coat in the closet. “Oh, can you hand me a ‘Clean’ sticker? I didn’t get peed on or anything today.”

Charlie hands you the sticker you’d asked for so Asa won’t put it in the wash unnecessarily. You stick it carefully onto the shoulder of your coat and shut the closet door.

“What time is it?” you wonder while checking your watch. It’s 5:34. You’re running a full hour ahead of schedule.

“Bye, Y/N,” Charlie calls after you as you shrug on your real coat and exit the clinic through the back door.

Since you’re turned back to yell “Bye!” you don’t notice the large form in the doorway and hit it full-speed.

“Sorry!” you squeak, taking a step back to look at the person’s face.

Asa grins at you. “Where’s the fire?”

“I drank some coffee,” you admit. “Just now.” You grin and bounce on the balls of your feet. “Good luck tonight, A!”

“See you, Y/N!” he calls after you as you hurry past him. Hopefully no dogs get hit by cars tonight. He’d love a nice, quiet night.

During work, you’d forgotten about your annoying crush and terrible luck, but the second you get into your car it all comes rushing back. You’re running a full hour early—will you see Sam when he’s coming home tonight?

You can’t help the rush of adrenaline that floods through you at the thought.

God, you really do like Sam, don’t you? That’s embarrassing. How do you make it stop?

You turn on your car and a blast of cold air slaps you in the face. It doesn’t warm up until you pull into the parking lot of the apartment building, and you roll your eyes. The car’s moderately old. You’ll have to get a new one, but not for a while.

You’d called it—Sam is in the elevator when the doors open, and you both step back with surprise.

“Sorry,” he immediately says. “Normally no one else is on the elevator at this time. You get off early?”

“Yeah,” you reply. Surprising yourself and Sam, you keep the conversation going by asking, “Were there any fires today?”

Sam shakes his head. “We cleaned up the trucks, mostly. Dean and Cas both got in trouble for making a mess in the vending machine room, but—” He stops talking and you look at him with surprise, but he’s looking down.

You’d reached for the elevator button with your bandaged hand. Sam’s eyes don’t lift from it as he asks, “What happened to your hand?” Is it just you, or does he sound… angry? Why would he be angry?

“I burnt it, actually,” you respond, torn between hiding the point of conversation so Sam will get back to talking about Cas and Dean and whatever they did because the more Sam looks at you the more you blush, and acting nonchalant about the whole thing so Sam doesn’t think you’re a wimp. “Charlie tried to take my coffee mug when it was still hot. Really, really hot. I didn’t think coffee could get hot enough to burn people, but Garth likes his drinks especially hot so I think he adjusted the machine somehow.” You stop your rambling and suck in a breath. “It’s really not a big deal,” you add as if that’ll make you seem tougher when in reality you’d just admitted you’d bandaged up your hand after spilling hot coffee on it.

“Oh. I actually heard something about that a while ago. Some woman sued McDonald’s for serving her coffee that gave her serious burns and she got compensation because McDonald’s apparently knew their coffee was dangerous and was serving it at a dangerous temperature on purpose,” Sam rambles and you frown. For some reason you’re having a serious case of deja vu, and you instinctively flinch, imagining that something just lunged for you. Why would something lunge for you?

You clear your throat after a moment of silence and prompt, “What did Cas and Dean do in the vending machine?”

Sam looks away from your hand and then at you. Dimples appear in his cheeks (you want to swoon; he has dimples?! ) as he chuckles. “They were having an indoor picnic for a date since Dean’s hours are all screwy at the moment.”

“That’s sweet,” you say softly, imagining you and Sam having a picnic inside because one of you is too busy working to have seen each other properly. When you realize what you’d been imagining, you blush and look away.

How is Sam Winchester so goddamn beautiful?

“I thought it was corny,” Sam admits. “Probably because he’s my brother.”

You duck your head. To spare you from an awkward silence, the elevator doors finally open and the two of you practically sprint to your rooms.

You heave out a sigh as you lean against your closed apartment door. You’re a mess.

Crookshanks trills at you from his spot on the counter, delighted that he’s getting treats earlier than he normally does.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you mutter, pushing yourself off the door to him. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been looking at the ground so you hadn’t noticed the liquid on the floor as well as the glass.

Your foot slips out from underneath you and you cry out as you fall back. Your hands brace your fall, but your bandaged hand smarts. You curse loudly as you roll over, shaking out your sore hand. A drop of liquid hits your face. Your fingers come away red when you touch it. There are broken glass shards sticking out of the heel of your hand and blood wells up from them quickly and stains the bandages on your hand red.

You get up carefully, minding the liquid and glass and cradle your hurt hand so as not to get blood everywhere as you pad to the sink. A steady stream of curses fall from your mouth. Crookshanks swipes at you when you walk past him without giving him treats, but you don’t even bother to humor him.

Loud knocking at the door makes you jump. “Y/N? Are you all right?” It’s Sam. Oh, so he’s conscientious as well as beautiful? There’s got to be something wrong with him. No one can be that perfect.

“I’m fine!” You call back. “My damn cat—”

“Do you need help?”

You survey the scene: you, with a bleeding and burnt hand, water and glass on the floor, Crookshanks sniffing at the crime scene—

You yelp. “Crookshanks! Get away from that! Just a second, Sam! Sorry!”

You want to wrap a towel around your hand so you don’t get blood everywhere but that would push the glass shards deeper into your skin so you just lunge for your cat and scoop him up with your good hand. You toss him into your bedroom and slam the door shut so he doesn’t hurt himself before opening up the door.

Sam takes in the drops of blood on your cheek, collarbone, and shirt, and finds the source immediately. “What happened?” he asks, carefully taking your hand by the wrist and leading you to the kitchen sink, being mindful of the mess in the hallway. You almost slip again on a drop of your own blood but he holds you up. The only thing you can think about is how embarrassed you are, and how impressed you are that he can literally hold you up with one hand without any struggle.

“My dumbass cat knocked over the cup I left out and I slipped on the water and cut my hand,” you grumble, embarrassment making your cheeks flaming. “This is just not my day, I guess.”

“That’s why you should get a dog,” Sam jokes.

“Yeah, I will, once I move,” you say, immediately brightening at the thought. “I hope Crookshanks gets along with it.”

“What kind of dog are you going to get?” Sam asks. He puts your hand over the sink and hunches down. His broad shoulders keep you from seeing what he’s doing.

Your hand is immediately the most sensitive part of your body. You feel every twitch of his fingers as they touch yours.

You wince as your hand stings and instinctively try to bring it closer to your body. Sam’s hands don’t let your hand twitch. He’s so strong.

You hate that you sound like a teenage girl with a celebrity crush.

“What are you—”

“I’m trying to get the glass out of your hand and distract you at the same time.”

“How do you know how to do that?” You’re genuinely interested; you’d thought that you would have to patch yourself up.

“Well…” Sam pauses and you wince as he gets another piece of glass from your skin. How his large fingers can be so gentle and precise, you don’t know. “My dad liked to leave beer bottles all around the house in precarious positions. Me and my brother got good at getting glass out of skin. We were pretty clumsy kids.”

It sounds like a lie, but you let it slide. It’s not like you two are close enough to be sharing family secrets.

“But back to the dog you want,” Sam says. “Describe your ideal dog.”

“Um…” You bite your lip as you stare at his muscular back and broad shoulders. “I really like—” Your voice turns into a squeak as he pulls what feels to be a particularly large shard out of your hand. “I really like big dogs, you know? So maybe a Briard—they’re really obedient, or a Neapolitan Mastiff like Brutus, Mr. Crowley’s dog. I would really like a Portugese Water dog, though. When I was younger I had a Labradoodle but she never liked the water and I really want a dog that likes to swim. My family has a lake that I own now—”

“Done.” Sam lets you go and the first thing you feel is disappointment, and then surprise. You hadn’t expected to get so distracted you wouldn’t feel the pain. You’d been so distracted you’d started to babble.

“Thanks.” You grin at him. “Can you grab the first-aid kit? It’s in that cabinet.” You point with your good hand. It’s in the only cabinet you can reach without getting on your tiptoes.

Sam hands it to you. You stick your bad hand under cool water from the faucet and pick out everything you’ll need to bandage yourself up with your other hand.

Once you’re all bandaged up, you turn around to see that Sam had cleaned up the mess on the floor.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say, staring at the ground. You’re not quite sure what to say to Sam, the perfect gentleman.

“It really wasn’t any trouble,” he says gently, smiling down at you. The dimples hit you full-blast again.

You don’t have a response for that, so you just stare at him, and the smile slowly drops off Sam’s face as he takes a step closer to you. “Y/N—”

Your cat interrupts with a howl behind the door as he scratches it. You both look away with heated faces and you almost trip as you skirt around Sam to open the door and let him out. Crookshanks, ever an oblivious fuck, just beeps at you indignantly for locking him up and jumps onto the counter for treats.

“Thanks again, Sam,” you say with your back turned, an obvious dismissal. “If you ever need anything, let me know.”

He sighs. You don’t know why (you think you do, but there’s no way). “You too, Y/N.”

You don’t turn around until you hear the door open and close. Then you turn and slump against the counter. You shouldn’t feel this way about Sam, he’s your brother…

You frown and raise your hand to your temple. Where did that come from? Sam’s not your brother; you barely know him. You’ve been his neighbor for two years after you moved to town and only noticed him a few months ago.

You feel a headache coming on.

Crookshanks rubs his head against your arm. “I know,” you say absently to him and scratch the base of his tail. “I know. Weird.” You pick him up.

He meows, only the sound comes from behind you and not from in your arms.

You whirl, your hand flying to where you keep your gun, only there’s no gun in your waistband. You’ve never even held a gun. Why would you keep a gun in your waistband? You are crashing hard from that cup of coffee. You need to sleep.

After setting an alarm on your phone for 8 o’clock and making sure it’s plugged in and charging, you fall onto the bed. It only takes you a few minutes to fall asleep, which is a new record for you—it’s hard to relax sometimes.

For some reason you dream that Sam and Dean Winchester are standing over your sleeping form and shaking you. You wake up halfway multiple times, positive that someone actually touched you, but it was either only Crookshanks or your imagination.

You scowl in your sleep as Dream-Dean and Sam beg you to do something. You would do it if you could make out what they want you to do.

Sam can’t seem to take his eyes off your lifeless form, face paler than he’s ever seen.

“I don’t understand,” Dean says. “Y/N knows what a djinn world looks like. Why won’t she wake up?”

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

[moodforanime]

The Possesions of the Wild(Naruto fanfic)

The Possesions of the Wild(Naruto fanfic)

Chapter 2: A suspiciously generous act

Word count: 3,1K

Tags: @insanity-is-always-fun

A/N: If you want to get notified ASAP about when the next chapter is getting posted, let me know so I can tag you.

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

And here we are.' Akira said in a rather tired manner as he pushed the door open. 'Voilà!'

Kaiya waited for him to enter at first, but seeing Akira's eyebrow-raised glared that could almost yell 'Well? What are you waiting for?', she went ahead. At the sight of her apartment, Kaiya couldn't help but feel pleased; it was the best shelter she'd get in a long time. She was standing in a rather large room that owned a living room and a small kitchen. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything. The apartment would seem really fine if a damp smell that would remind you of death didn't fill the room.

The two shinobi began to cough as they made their way to the windows on the other side of the room with a desperate wish to open them. A few minutes pass and the air was, by now, way more breathable than before. Akira sighed.

'Well, I brought you here and you don't seem to complain about the apartment, therefore I'm of no use anymore.' Akira spoke, decisively. 'So, I guess I'll leave you to it.'

'Thank you.'

She knew that the boy didn't want to be in her company anymore, but she didn't mind it; the feeling was mutual. She walked along with him to the door and waited for the door to close, and when it did, she simply let her body drop to the ground, leaning her back and head on the wall behind her. A deep sigh escaped her.

'What would you think of me now, mother?' she said to herself.

Ever since she left, Kaiya couldn't help but think of what would her mother say of her actions. She zoned out for what she thought to be a few minutes, absorbed by her own judgmental thoughts.

By the time she came back to reality, it was already dark and her she could hear grumbling; her stomach began protesting. She couldn't blame him, though. She did skip lunch after the rather cheap breakfast she had that morning.

As she scanned the room in now a more patient and detailed way, she found what she needed. Above the red couch in the living room, on the wall, sat a clock that energetically ticked. Kaiya looked at the way that the two clock hands were positioned and were finally able to tell what time it was. It was already fifteen past eleven and she was sure that all grocery stores would be closed by now. There goes her chance of filling her stomach just yet, Kaiya thought.

Kaiya rose to her feet and nearly fell to the ground. She walked many kilometres that day and her soles were exhausted and sore by now, not to talk about the rest of her leg muscles. Kaiya slowly but safely made her way to the red couch before letting herself drop on it. She made herself comfortable on the couch and, as a soft summer breeze made its way to her through the window, Kaiya fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________

Asumi carefully made her way on the rooftops, not letting the girl escape her gaze even for a second's time. It was morning, and Kaiya was walking down Konoha's market. Even though she rightfully assumed that the girl wouldn't leave her apartment during the night, Asumi preferred to be rather safe than sorry, so she spends the night on the rooftop. Although she felt a bit tired, during her ANBU training, she reached the performance of resisting up to three days and nights in a combat-like situation. For this mission, she chose to not wear her Anbu mask. It was for the better, she thought if she wanted to look ordinary.

As for Kaiya, she didn't notice nor felt anything strange just yet. The Hokage didn't inform her yet if she was assigned to a team or such things, so he thought that she could've, as well, get things settled while she could. She analysed her apartment in more detail that morning and took the time to enjoy a well-deserved shower. For time to pass, she wanted to get something to fill her wardrobe, but she was never able to think of anything but food when hungry, so, for starters, she bought herself a piece of cheese and bacon pie the locals called Quiche Lorraine.

As she made her way down the streets, she bumped into something, making Kaiya lose her balance. As expected, gravity did its job and pulled Kaiya to the pavement. Looking up, Kaiya realised that she didn't bump into something, but rather someone. Next to her was a tall girl in her twenties with sand-colours hair, casual clothes and a black forehead protector.

'Oh, I'm so sorry!' The girl apologized. 'Let me help you.'

The girl lends Kaiya a hand, but Kaiya ignored the girl's gesture. She rose on to her feet and brushed off the dust that gathered on her. Kaiya noticed how the girl was a little taller than her.

'I'm sorry!' The girl called out as Kaiya intended to leave.

'It's ok, don't worry 'bout it.' Kaiya responded coldly, looking over her shoulder.

The girl closed her eyes while breathing in for a second. She obviously was bugged by something, and Kaiya didn't understand what could it be. It was she who fell, not that girl. Who knows, Kaiya thought, maybe it's something personal.

'Your knee is bleeding.' The girl simply blurted out as soon as she opened her eyes.

Kaiya looked down and it was true; a part of the material from her pants around her left knee was gone, revealing a scar that wasn't quite a view.

'Oh.' Kaiya simply reacted. She was used to getting hurt much enough to not be bothered by a bit of blood and a light scar like that. She shrugged. 'Whatever.'

The girl looked at the girl pleased as she let a small smile appear on her face. She wasn't some crybaby.

'Hey, I don't remember seeing you here. Are you new?' The girl asked.

'I guess you could say that.' Kaiya shrugged.

'I see. Well, I'm... Mishimoto Akari.' Asumi said. She hesitated on telling her name since she didn't know for sure if she should trust the girl. In the end, she preferred listening to the Anbu code and to not give her real name to others than her superior, colleagues and family. 'What's your name?'

Kaiya looked hesitantly at the so-called Akari. Why did she hesitate in telling her name? To question the better, why was she so extra in telling her name? She didn't need to be polite. She could just be happy that she accepted her apology and then get on with her life.

'I'm Kaiya.' Kaiya eventually said.

'Just Kaiya?' Asumi asked, without knowing that she touched a rather fragile subject.

'That's none of your business.' Kaiya nonchalantly brushed her off. 'For the matter, yes, just Kaiya.'

'Well, just Kaiya, if you're new, how about me showing you around, how does that sound?' Asumi offered.

Kaiya raised her eyebrows. She wasn't particularly friendly, and yet this girl willed to stick with her.

'Why would you? You don't owe me anything if you're worried.' Kaiya blandly stated.

'Oh, it's nothing like that. I'm just being nice, you know?' Asumi backfired, slowly cornering Kaiya.

'Aren't you, like, busy or somethin'? I take the' you're a ninja.' Kaiya said matter-of-factly, as she looked at Asumi's forehead protector.

'Oh, I'm busier than you could imagine.' Asumi spoke truthfully as she chuckled. 'But today's my free day. I get to rest, you know? At last.'

'And you're willing to waste some free day with some newbie?' Kaiya questioned, raising her eyebrows in disapproval, yet again.

'Oh, I don't know about you, but it's not like I've got anything better to do. Staying at home gets boring and there's nothing I enjoy more than a nice walk.' Asumi happily explained.

Kaiya puffed in amusement. She didn't meet many people like her. The people in her clan were nothing like that, as they mainly focused on surviving. Kaiya had to admit that the offer was pretty alluring. She could refuse and continue to find the way on her own, but if she accepted, she wouldn't feel so lost and she'd have as company someone who could help her to get out of her confused zone. If she accepted, she had nothing to lose.

'Alright.' Kaiya said. 'But first, I might need a new pair of leggings.'

A smile appeared on Asumi's face, only for her to let her head fall on her back and laugh moments later. Even though she knew the girl only for a few minutes, she couldn't help but feel amused by her being.

______________________________________________________

It's been two hours and Kaiya could say that, although she didn't as lose as before, there would still be a chance for her to get lost on Konoha's streets. Asumi showed her most of the village, and since they didn't take any breaks, their soles started to feel quite sore. It was already noon and it could've been safely said that the piece of pie Kaiya ate earlier that day didn't really satisfy her stomach.

As they walked down a street, Kaiya's nose was now fully hit by a smell of something that Kaiya identified as a food that almost made her nostrils dance.

'What's that amazing smell?' Kaiya asked as she stopped, for a second, from walking.

'Oh, you must be hungry, right?' The girl with the hair like sand asked with a chuckle. 'It's Ichiraku's ramen. As you can tell by its name, it's a ramen-specialised restaurant.'

'Ramen?' Kaiya said, as her eyes shined. Although she liked ramen, she never really got to eat it but on special occasions, which probably made it taste even better.

Asumi smiled, understandingly. The girl was so skinny that she had no doubts that she was underfed. In fact, Asumi was surprised that, although the fact that she only seemed fourteen at most, she was with just a finger or two smaller than her. She looked for at her for a moment, wondering if she was sick, but seeing her reaction at food made her relax; a sick person that's in a rather more serious state doesn't really have an appetite. She'll get better if she gains a bit of junk, Asumi thought.

'Yeah, let me show you where it is.' Asumi said, as she began walking, followed closely by Kaiya.

It didn't take more than a hundred meters to get to a small building that had a small bar-like room on the ground floor with some notes at the entrance. Kaiya and Asumi pushed the notes aside and went closer to the bar. On one of the seats sat a pink-haired girl with a red dress that had a white circle on it, waiting for her bowl of ramen. Behind the bar sat a man in his mid to late forties, along with a young brown-haired woman about the same age as Asumi, both wearing the typical chef white clothing.

'Welcome to Ichiraku's Ramen!' The old man joyfully greeted. 'Take a seat! With what can I serve you?'

'Uh... I don't know.' Kaiya said as she awkwardly seated herself next to the girl. 'I've never been here before.'

'I see. Well, take a look at our menu.' The man said as he handed Kaiya a piece of paper within a plastic cover.

Asumi looked at the clock on the wall and breathed in sharply.

'Is there something wrong, Akari-san?' Kaiya asked, with a slight feeling of worry. She could bear with her sore feet and hunger a little more if she needed to.

'Oh, nothing that should concern you.' Asumi said, shaking her in disapproval. 'I'm sorry that I have to do this, but I'll have to leave you to eat alone. I, along with my teammates, have to see the Hokage.'

'I thought that this was your free day?' Kaiya furrowed her eyebrows.

'Yeah, well, you may or may not realised this, but you're never truly able to rest when you're a ninja.' Asumi shrugged. 'Well, I have to leave now if I don't want to be late. Goodbye!'

Before she exited, Asumi shortly waved and Kaiya repeated the action. After Asumi left, Kaiya realised that she felt a little lonely, something quite unusual for her as she spent most of her time on her own.

'Have you decided on your order?' The young woman asked.

'Oh, not really.'

The young woman lightly puffed in annoyance before walking away.

'Hey,' the girl next to her shyly tried to get her attention. 'I heard that you don't know what to order?'

'Yeah.' Kaiya said, a little surprised by the approach.

'I would recommend you the Miso Chashu pork ramen.'

'The Miso Cha- what?'

'Misho Chashu pork ramen. It's one of the best, in my opinion.'

'Alright. I'm gonna go with your word.' Kaiya said, relieved for getting a suggestion, before turning to the man. 'Sir, I'd like an... what was it called, again?'

'Miso Chashu pork ramen.' The pink-haired girl added.

'Exactly.'

'A Miso Chashu will it be, then.' The man said, before turning away.

'My name's Sakura Haruno.' The girl presented herself as she stretched her hand towards Kaiya.

'I'm Kaiya.' Kaiya said, looking at the girl with her eyebrows narrowed, before hesitantly responding to her gesture.

'Kaiya? It's a pretty name.' Sakura complimented, trying to ignore what she thought to be rudeness coming from the girl.

'Thanks, I guess.'

'Here's your bowl, Sakura. Enjoy.' The young woman smiled, as she put a bowl of ramen in front of Sakura.

'Thank you, Ayame-San.'

Sakura took a pair of chopsticks and split them in two and, as she willed to start eating, she saw Kaiya's gaze on her bowl. Seeing that she noticed, Kaiya moved her gaze to a poster nearby. Sakura sighed and put her chopsticks down.

'Aren't you gonna eat it?' Kaiya asked while turning around, confused by Sakura's gesture.

'I'll wait for your ramen to arrive as well.'

Kaiya smiled in appreciation. Other people would've not given a single penny if she was eating or not. Sakura analysed Kaiya and it was only then that the question popped; how comes she didn't recognise her?

'Hey, um, would you mind if I ask something?' Sakura began, unsure of how to approach the situation.

'You just did.' Kaiya pointed out, making Sakura over blink in shock while remaining speechless. 'But I'll let you ask me another question.'

Sakura sighed in relief.

'Well, you may figure it out already, but we don't know each other.'

'Yeah... What's with that?' Kaiya asked.

She had a feeling about where this was going, and she wasn't very happy about it. Better get used to it Kaiya, she thought. If she was going to live in this town, it was only normal for people to be curious. Just as Sakura wanted to say something, she was interrupted. The young woman called Ayame came with a bowl of ramen that was placed in front of Kaiya.

'There you go.' The lady said as she forced a smile. 'Enjoy.'

'Thank you.'

The woman only nodded and disappeared as fast as she appeared. Kaiya split her chopsticks and began eating, followed by Sakura. As expected, the ramen was delicious. Anything is tasty when you're hungry, in fact. A few minutes pass and the girls did nothing but eat.

'What did you want to ask me?' Kaiya asked after they finished their meals.

'Well, I was wondering. Did you go to Konoha's Academy?'

Intuition is, as expected, always right, Kaiya thought.

'No.' Kaiya sighed. 'I only moved to Konoha recently. Matter of fact, I just arrived yesterday afternoon.'

Sakura's eyes widened in shock. She never heard such a thing before.

'Really? But why? Didn't you have a home? What about your family? Didn't you live in a village?' Sakura simply blurted out the questions without being able to control herself.

'I'm sorry to disappoint, but I won't bore you with my life story. No offence, but it's not like you'd understand or relate to it, and if you don't at least understand something, then the information is meaningless.'

Sakura looked at the brown-haired girl, unsure of what to say. She would ask her more, but the answer that the girl gave her not only gave her curiosity, but also a self-conscious feeling that made her regret shooting so many questions that were rather personal. Kaiya didn't seem to mind her silence, though. Her eyes were set towards her empty bowl, although it was clear that she wasn't interested in the drops of remaining ramen. As they remained silent, the paper notes moved and an audible thud! could be heard on the chair next to Sakura. Kaiya and Sakura turned their heads to see a tall, silver-haired man wearing a mask and a blue headband protector that covered his left eye. He gave them a short look with his visible eye before turning his attention to the old man, greeting him. The old man took the masked man's order and began preparing, yet again, some ramen.

'I... should leave.' Kaiya mumbled quietly enough for Sakura to have trouble hearing her. 'How much does my ramen cost, sir?'

The old man turned to Kaiya and took her bowl.

'You had a Misho Chashu pork, right?' The old man asked as Kaiya nodded. 'That would be ten Ryo.'

Kaiya's face twitched, like every time she didn't like something. She already was on a tight budget.

'I only have seven.' Kaiya spoke with a slight hint of worry in her voice.

'Then how are you going to pay?'

The old man sighed and began mumbling something about the kids these days.

'I'll pay for her.' A voice could be heard.

The three heads turned to the silver-haired man.

'E-Excuse me, sir?' The old man asked, taking what he heard for mistaken.

'I said I'll pay for her.' The man repeated as he began searching his pockets. 'How much was it? Ten Ryo?'

The old man nodded, still in shock.

'S-Sir, you don't have to.' Kaiya said, shook by the man's actions.

Not only that he was a stranger, but also the first being to do anything for her. Nobody really did something for her, not even her own mother.

'Oh, don't worry. This isn't some favour, so I don't expect anything in return from you, alright?' He said as the skin around his visible eye wrinkled, something that made Kaiya hope to be a smile.

The silver-haired man gave the old man the yen he asked for. The old man blinked a few times, mouthing uncomprehending words before going in the kitchens saying, almost yelling, 'Ayame, you won't believe this!'.

'Eh, thank you.' Kaiya said to the masked man before rising to her feet and fleeing away.

The masked man sighed as he looked towards Sakura.

'I hope you have enough money. I'm not some never-ending money bag, you know?'

'Don't worry.' Sakura said, before paying her own meal and leaving.

(Next chapter)

[moodforanime]

The Possesions of the Wild Volume 1: The Nomad

Chapter 2: A suspiciously generous act

Word count: 3265

Tags: @insanity-is-always-fun

A/N: Just as a future note, my A/Ns will mostly if not exclusively be at the end of the chapter because I always talk a little about the chapter events and all that. In case of something really importand, I’ll put an A/N here.

(previous chapter) (Index) (Next)

______________________________________________________________

'And here we are.' Akira said in a rather tired manner as he pushed the door open. 'Voilà!'

Kaiya waited for him to enter at first, but seeing Akira's eyebrow-raised glared that could almost yell 'Well? What are you waiting for?', she went ahead. At the sight of her apartment, Kaiya couldn't help but feel pleased; it was the best shelter she'd get in a long time. She was standing in a rather large room that owned a living room and a small kitchen. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything. The apartment would seem really fine if a damp smell that would remind you of death didn't fill the room.

The two shinobi began to cough as they made their way to the windows on the other side of the room with a desperate wish to open them. A few minutes pass and the air was, by now, way more breathable than before. Akira sighed.

'Well, I brought you here and you don't seem to complain about the apartment, therefore I'm of no use anymore.' Akira spoke, decisively. 'So, I guess I'll leave you to it.'

'Thank you.'

She knew that the boy didn't want to be in her company anymore, but she didn't mind it; the feeling was mutual. She walked along with him to the door and waited for the door to close, and when it did, she simply let her body drop to the ground, leaning her back and head on the wall behind her. A deep sigh escaped her.

'What would you think of me now, mother?' she said to herself.

Ever since she left, Kaiya couldn't help but think of what would her mother say of her actions. She zoned out for what she thought to be a few minutes, absorbed by her own judgmental thoughts.

By the time she came back to reality, it was already dark and her she could hear grumbling; her stomach began protesting. She couldn't blame him, though. She did skip lunch after the rather cheap breakfast she had that morning.

As she scanned the room in now a more patient and detailed way, she found what she needed. Above the red couch in the living room, on the wall, sat a clock that energetically ticked. Kaiya looked at the way that the two clock hands were positioned and were finally able to tell what time it was. It was already fifteen past eleven and she was sure that all grocery stores would be closed by now. There goes her chance of filling her stomach just yet, Kaiya thought.

Kaiya rose to her feet and nearly fell to the ground. She walked many kilometres that day and her soles were exhausted and sore by now, not to talk about the rest of her leg muscles. Kaiya slowly but safely made her way to the red couch before letting herself drop on it. She made herself comfortable on the couch and, as a soft summer breeze made its way to her through the window, Kaiya fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________

Asumi carefully made her way on the rooftops, not letting the girl escape her gaze even for a second's time. It was morning, and Kaiya was walking down Konoha's market. Even though she rightfully assumed that the girl wouldn't leave her apartment during the night, Asumi preferred to be rather safe than sorry, so she spends the night on the rooftop. Although she felt a bit tired, during her ANBU training, she reached the performance of resisting up to three days and nights in a combat-like situation. For this mission, she chose to not wear her Anbu mask. It was for the better, she thought if she wanted to look ordinary.

As for Kaiya, she didn't notice nor felt anything strange just yet. The Hokage didn't inform her yet if she was assigned to a team or such things, so he thought that she could've, as well, get things settled while she could. She analysed her apartment in more detail that morning and took the time to enjoy a well-deserved shower. For time to pass, she wanted to get something to fill her wardrobe, but she was never able to think of anything but food when hungry, so, for starters, she bought herself a piece of cheese and bacon pie the locals called Quiche Lorraine.

As she made her way down the streets, she bumped into something, making Kaiya lose her balance. As expected, gravity did its job and pulled Kaiya to the pavement. Looking up, Kaiya realised that she didn't bump into something, but rather someone. Next to her was a tall girl in her twenties with sand-colours hair, casual clothes and a black forehead protector.

'Oh, I'm so sorry!' The girl apologized. 'Let me help you.'

The girl lends Kaiya a hand, but Kaiya ignored the girl's gesture. She rose on to her feet and brushed off the dust that gathered on her. Kaiya noticed how the girl was a little taller than her.

'I'm sorry!' The girl called out as Kaiya intended to leave.

'It's ok, don't worry 'bout it.' Kaiya responded coldly, looking over her shoulder.

The girl closed her eyes while breathing in for a second. She obviously was bugged by something, and Kaiya didn't understand what could it be. It was she who fell, not that girl. Who knows, Kaiya thought, maybe it's something personal.

'Your knee is bleeding.' The girl simply blurted out as soon as she opened her eyes.

Kaiya looked down and it was true; a part of the material from her pants around her left knee was gone, revealing a scar that wasn't quite a view.

'Oh.' Kaiya simply reacted. She was used to getting hurt much enough to not be bothered by a bit of blood and a light scar like that. She shrugged. 'Whatever.'

The girl looked at the girl pleased as she let a small smile appear on her face. She wasn't some crybaby.

'Hey, I don't remember seeing you here. Are you new?' The girl asked.

'I guess you could say that.' Kaiya shrugged.

'I see. Well, I'm... Mishimoto Akari.' Asumi said. She hesitated on telling her name since she didn't know for sure if she should trust the girl. In the end, she preferred listening to the Anbu code and to not give her real name to others than her superior, colleagues and family. 'What's your name?'

Kaiya looked hesitantly at the so-called Akari. Why did she hesitate in telling her name? To question the better, why was she so extra in telling her name? She didn't need to be polite. She could just be happy that she accepted her apology and then get on with her life.

'I'm Kaiya.' Kaiya eventually said.

'Just Kaiya?' Asumi asked, without knowing that she touched a rather fragile subject.

'That's none of your business.' Kaiya nonchalantly brushed her off. 'For the matter, yes, just Kaiya.'

'Well, just Kaiya, if you're new, how about me showing you around, how does that sound?' Asumi offered.

Kaiya raised her eyebrows. She wasn't particularly friendly, and yet this girl willed to stick with her.

'Why would you? You don't owe me anything if you're worried.' Kaiya blandly stated.

'Oh, it's nothing like that. I'm just being nice, you know?' Asumi backfired, slowly cornering Kaiya.

'Aren't you, like, busy or somethin'? I take the' you're a ninja.' Kaiya said matter-of-factly, as she looked at Asumi's forehead protector.

'Oh, I'm busier than you could imagine.' Asumi spoke truthfully as she chuckled. 'But today's my free day. I get to rest, you know? At last.'

'And you're willing to waste some free day with some newbie?' Kaiya questioned, raising her eyebrows in disapproval, yet again.

'Oh, I don't know about you, but it's not like I've got anything better to do. Staying at home gets boring and there's nothing I enjoy more than a nice walk.' Asumi happily explained.

Kaiya puffed in amusement. She didn't meet many people like her. The people in her clan were nothing like that, as they mainly focused on surviving. Kaiya had to admit that the offer was pretty alluring. She could refuse and continue to find the way on her own, but if she accepted, she wouldn't feel so lost and she'd have as company someone who could help her to get out of her confused zone. If she accepted, she had nothing to lose.

'Alright.' Kaiya said. 'But first, I might need a new pair of leggings.'

A smile appeared on Asumi's face, only for her to let her head fall on her back and laugh moments later. Even though she knew the girl only for a few minutes, she couldn't help but feel amused by her being.

______________________________________________________

It's been two hours and Kaiya could say that, although she didn't as lose as before, there would still be a chance for her to get lost on Konoha's streets. Asumi showed her most of the village, and since they didn't take any breaks, their soles started to feel quite sore. It was already noon and it could've been safely said that the piece of pie Kaiya ate earlier that day didn't really satisfy her stomach.

As they walked down a street, Kaiya's nose was now fully hit by a smell of something that Kaiya identified as a food that almost made her nostrils dance.

'What's that amazing smell?' Kaiya asked as she stopped, for a second, from walking.

'Oh, you must be hungry, right?' The girl with the hair like sand asked with a chuckle. 'It's Ichiraku's ramen. As you can tell by its name, it's a ramen-specialised restaurant.'

'Ramen?' Kaiya said, as her eyes shined. Although she liked ramen, she never really got to eat it but on special occasions, which probably made it taste even better.

Asumi smiled, understandingly. The girl was so skinny that she had no doubts that she was underfed. In fact, Asumi was surprised that, although the fact that she only seemed fourteen at most, she was with just a finger or two smaller than her. She looked for at her for a moment, wondering if she was sick, but seeing her reaction at food made her relax; a sick person that's in a rather more serious state doesn't really have an appetite. She'll get better if she gains a bit of junk, Asumi thought.

'Yeah, let me show you where it is.' Asumi said, as she began walking, followed closely by Kaiya.

It didn't take more than a hundred meters to get to a small building that had a small bar-like room on the ground floor with some notes at the entrance. Kaiya and Asumi pushed the notes aside and went closer to the bar. On one of the seats sat a pink-haired girl with a red dress that had a white circle on it, waiting for her bowl of ramen. Behind the bar sat a man in his mid to late forties, along with a young brown-haired woman about the same age as Asumi, both wearing the typical chef white clothing.

'Welcome to Ichiraku's Ramen!' The old man joyfully greeted. 'Take a seat! With what can I serve you?'

'Uh... I don't know.' Kaiya said as she awkwardly seated herself next to the girl. 'I've never been here before.'

'I see. Well, take a look at our menu.' The man said as he handed Kaiya a piece of paper within a plastic cover.

Asumi looked at the clock on the wall and breathed in sharply.

'Is there something wrong, Akari-san?' Kaiya asked, with a slight feeling of worry. She could bear with her sore feet and hunger a little more if she needed to.

'Oh, nothing that should concern you.' Asumi said, shaking her in disapproval. 'I'm sorry that I have to do this, but I'll have to leave you to eat alone. I, along with my teammates, have to see the Hokage.'

'I thought that this was your free day?' Kaiya furrowed her eyebrows.

'Yeah, well, you may or may not realised this, but you're never truly able to rest when you're a ninja.' Asumi shrugged. 'Well, I have to leave now if I don't want to be late. Goodbye!'

Before she exited, Asumi shortly waved and Kaiya repeated the action. After Asumi left, Kaiya realised that she felt a little lonely, something quite unusual for her as she spent most of her time on her own.

'Have you decided on your order?' The young woman asked.

'Oh, not really.'

The young woman lightly puffed in annoyance before walking away.

'Hey,' the girl next to her shyly tried to get her attention. 'I heard that you don't know what to order?'

'Yeah.' Kaiya said, a little surprised by the approach.

'I would recommend you the Miso Chashu pork ramen.'

'The Miso Cha- what?'

'Misho Chashu pork ramen. It's one of the best, in my opinion.'

'Alright. I'm gonna go with your word.' Kaiya said, relieved for getting a suggestion, before turning to the man. 'Sir, I'd like an... what was it called, again?'

'Miso Chashu pork ramen.' The pink-haired girl added.

'Exactly.'

'A Miso Chashu will it be, then.' The man said, before turning away.

'My name's Sakura Haruno.' The girl presented herself as she stretched her hand towards Kaiya.

'I'm Kaiya.' Kaiya said, looking at the girl with her eyebrows narrowed, before hesitantly responding to her gesture.

'Kaiya? It's a pretty name.' Sakura complimented, trying to ignore what she thought to be rudeness coming from the girl.

'Thanks, I guess.'

'Here's your bowl, Sakura. Enjoy.' The young woman smiled, as she put a bowl of ramen in front of Sakura.

'Thank you, Ayame-San.'

Sakura took a pair of chopsticks and split them in two and, as she willed to start eating, she saw Kaiya's gaze on her bowl. Seeing that she noticed, Kaiya moved her gaze to a poster nearby. Sakura sighed and put her chopsticks down.

'Aren't you gonna eat it?' Kaiya asked while turning around, confused by Sakura's gesture.

'I'll wait for your ramen to arrive as well.'

Kaiya smiled in appreciation. Other people would've not given a single penny if she was eating or not. Sakura analysed Kaiya and it was only then that the question popped; how comes she didn't recognise her?

'Hey, um, would you mind if I ask something?' Sakura began, unsure of how to approach the situation.

'You just did.' Kaiya pointed out, making Sakura over blink in shock while remaining speechless. 'But I'll let you ask me another question.'

Sakura sighed in relief.

'Well, you may figure it out already, but we don't know each other.'

'Yeah... What's with that?' Kaiya asked.

She had a feeling about where this was going, and she wasn't very happy about it. Better get used to it Kaiya, she thought. If she was going to live in this town, it was only normal for people to be curious. Just as Sakura wanted to say something, she was interrupted. The young woman called Ayame came with a bowl of ramen that was placed in front of Kaiya.

'There you go.' The lady said as she forced a smile. 'Enjoy.'

'Thank you.'

The woman only nodded and disappeared as fast as she appeared. Kaiya split her chopsticks and began eating, followed by Sakura. As expected, the ramen was delicious. Anything is tasty when you're hungry, in fact. A few minutes pass and the girls did nothing but eat.

'What did you want to ask me?' Kaiya asked after they finished their meals.

'Well, I was wondering. Did you go to Konoha's Academy?'

Intuition is, as expected, always right, Kaiya thought.

'No.' Kaiya sighed. 'I only moved to Konoha recently. Matter of fact, I just arrived yesterday afternoon.'

Sakura's eyes widened in shock. She never heard such a thing before.

'Really? But why? Didn't you have a home? What about your family? Didn't you live in a village?' Sakura simply blurted out the questions without being able to control herself.

'I'm sorry to disappoint, but I won't bore you with my life story. No offence, but it's not like you'd understand or relate to it, and if you don't at least understand something, then the information is meaningless.'

Sakura looked at the brown-haired girl, unsure of what to say. She would ask her more, but the answer that the girl gave her not only gave her curiosity, but also a self-conscious feeling that made her regret shooting so many questions that were rather personal. Kaiya didn't seem to mind her silence, though. Her eyes were set towards her empty bowl, although it was clear that she wasn't interested in the drops of remaining ramen. As they remained silent, the paper notes moved and an audible thud! could be heard on the chair next to Sakura. Kaiya and Sakura turned their heads to see a tall, silver-haired man wearing a mask and a blue headband protector that covered his left eye. He gave them a short look with his visible eye before turning his attention to the old man, greeting him. The old man took the masked man's order and began preparing, yet again, some ramen.

'I... should leave.' Kaiya mumbled quietly enough for Sakura to have trouble hearing her. 'How much does my ramen cost, sir?'

The old man turned to Kaiya and took her bowl.

'You had a Misho Chashu pork, right?' The old man asked as Kaiya nodded. 'That would be ten Ryo.'

Kaiya's face twitched, like every time she didn't like something. She already was on a tight budget.

'I only have seven.' Kaiya spoke with a slight hint of worry in her voice.

'Then how are you going to pay?'

The old man sighed and began mumbling something about the kids these days.

'I'll pay for her.' A voice could be heard.

The three heads turned to the silver-haired man.

'E-Excuse me, sir?' The old man asked, taking what he heard for mistaken.

'I said I'll pay for her.' The man repeated as he began searching his pockets. 'How much was it? Ten Ryo?'

The old man nodded, still in shock.

'S-Sir, you don't have to.' Kaiya said, shook by the man's actions.

Not only that he was a stranger, but also the first being to do anything for her. Nobody really did something for her, not even her own mother.

'Oh, don't worry. This isn't some favour, so I don't expect anything in return from you, alright?' He said as the skin around his visible eye wrinkled, something that made Kaiya hope to be a smile.

The silver-haired man gave the old man the yen he asked for. The old man blinked a few times, mouthing uncomprehending words before going in the kitchens saying, almost yelling, 'Ayame, you won't believe this!'.

'Eh, thank you.' Kaiya said to the masked man before rising to her feet and fleeing away.

The masked man sighed as he looked towards Sakura.

'I hope you have enough money. I'm not some never-ending money bag, you know?'

'Don't worry.' Sakura said, before paying her own meal and leaving.

A/n

Hi, guys! How's it going? So, I have to say, wow. This was a chapter that's almost double rather than my usual chapters, this one with a little over 3000 words.

Anyway, what do you guys think of this chapter? What about the story so far? And do you think Asumi was right when choosing a fake name rather than being honest with Kaiya?

See you in the next chapter!