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downwiththeficness · 4 years ago

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A Need So Great-Chapter 14

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,300

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The ocean was huge. Wind blowing her hair around her face as Eva sat on the cliff’s edge, her feet swinging. The waves were rushing towards her, the tide coming in. She could taste salt in the air, could feel a light spray even from this height. This was really, really nice.

Footsteps sounded behind her, Horacio ambling up the slight incline. He was wearing a t shirt and jeans, a far cry from his normal attire. Eva admired the way the denim clung to his legs, the shirt stretching to accommodate the breadth of his body. She gave him a little wave before turning her attention back to the water. He sat down next to her. They had spent almost a week at the house, their existence a soft moseying pace that belied the very real danger to their lives.

“Do you come here a lot?”

He shook his head, “I used to, back before I took the badge. The work kind of got in the way of taking any time off.”

She had seen that first hand, could tell that he was desperately soaking up the softness of this little hideaway, storing it for when he needed it most. Tucked away as they were, Eva could almost forget all of the turmoil waiting for them when they returned. She imagined he felt nearly the same way.

“Shame that you’re here under these circumstances. This is a nice place.”

Eva could see him look at her from the corner of her eye. He placed a hand atop hers, “Its not a shame, just a compromise.”

Her mouth thinned, “Still…” She trailed off, not sure where she was going with the sentence.

He squeezed her hand, “Up. Dinner’s ready.”

Eva was not much of a cook, though she was pretty good at making staple foods. Horacio, on the other hand, clearly learned something from his mother. The way he handled himself in the kitchen was much like he did at work—mission oriented. Eva would sometimes sit at the dining table and flip through an old magazine, not really reading it. She like to watch him move around, a knife in hand to chop vegetables, or flipping over meat in the pan to brown it.

Today’s meal was a stuffed pepper, spices wafted in the air. He’d made rice to go alongside it. From the cellar, he’d pulled a bottle of wine, two glasses already waiting at their usual spots. Eva couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she sat down. He’d already plated their food and she leaned down, inhaling.

“This looks amazing,” she murmured, picking up her fork, “Thank you.”

He made a non-committal sound, as he usually did when she complimented him on his cooking. She cast him a long glance, noting that he was avoiding her gaze by pouring the wine. He did that a lot, took the praise she gave him and pulled it inside himself. She could tell he was pleased by the little flush across his cheeks, but other than that, it was as if he hadn’t heard her. She wondered if that was a product of his life—couldn’t be too eager for approval.

After dinner, Horacio left her on the couch to do a walk of the perimeter, as he did every evening before they locked up. It would take one of his patented interrogation techniques to get her to admit how attractive it was to watch him load a rifle and take the path around the house and out towards the woods.

He would be gone for an hour or so, depending on what he decided needed further investigation. Eva passed the time by taking a long shower and reading yet another way too old magazine in bed. The bedroom windows were open and the breeze was carrying the smell of the ocean inside.

The sun was almost set when he came back, moving into the bedroom and storing the rifle in a case that he kept laying on the chest at the foot of the bed. He straightened and looked at her for a long moment.

“What?” she asked, feeling anxious under his steady stare.

His expression softened, “I like you like this.”

Laughing softly, she lifted a brow, “You mean wearing a t shirt I’ve owned for five years and my hair still wet because I couldn’t be bothered to dry it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “I mean relaxed.”

Eva supposed that she was relaxed, though she had every reason not to be. She liked him relaxed, too.

“I feel safe.”

Jaw going lax, he regarded her for a few more seconds before giving a curt nod and turn, “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

Eva noticed that he took a little longer in the shower than usual, had done so since they got to the safe house. She tried not to read into it too deeply, knowing that he was off his schedule. And, everyone needed alone time.

When he left the bathroom, steam billowed out behind him, carrying the scent of his body wash. He was wearing his usual boxer briefs in a deep maroon. It was a good color for him, accenting the warm undertones of his skin. She stared at him, unabashed, and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky as to share a bed with such a beautiful man.

“What?” he asked, noting her look as he crawled in beside her to lay on top of the covers.

Eva set her magazine on the night stand and rolled to her side, bracing on her palm so that she hovered above his prone body.

“I like you like this.”

In the next second, Eva got to see those adorable dimples, his teeth flashing as he smiled. She leaned down and kissed him affectionately.

When he spoke next, his voice reverberated against her ear where it lay on his chest. He toyed with her hand, threading his fingers through it.

“We’ve come a long way these last few months.”

She hummed, nodding. His hand was calloused in a few places, the longer fingers curling over her palm. Her hand looked small when he held it, her wrist even smaller, her forearm positively tiny when compared to his.

“I never would have guessed after that meeting that I’d get to bring you here.”

Eva grinned, looking up at him, “I was a fucking mess after that meeting. I hope you know that.”

The features of his face tightened in a peculiar way, an involuntary twitch.

Eva’s grin widened, “That was an inside thought.”

Laughing, Horacio admitted, “It was.”

“Tell me.”

He started to shake his head, but Eva shifted to her belly, resting her weight on one elbow. She said his name in four long, drawn out, teasing syllables.

Pulling his lips between his teeth and releasing them, he simply said, “I was also a fucking mess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, one hand coming up to run over his face, top to bottom. He covered his eyes, chin tilting up, “I…” deep sigh, “I went into rut after that meeting.”

Her brows hit her hairline, “Really?”

He dropped his hand to the pillow beside his head, the fingers relaxed, “I told you it took less than twenty four hours for me to start trying to figure out how to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed, “But I assumed you were just, I don’t know, thinking about me.”

Smirking, he said, “Oh, I was.”

Her breath caught a little bit, arousal blooming in her belly as she imagined him in rut, helplessly trying to get off as he thought about her.

Voice dropping low, Eva prompted, “Really?”

His eyes darkened as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “I barely made it home before I—I didn’t even get past the front door. Just dropped down to the floor and thought about how delicious you smelled, the things I wanted to do to you.”

Blood heating in her veins, Eva swallowed around a dry throat, “What kinds of things?”

Horacio’s arm tightened around her, his eyes dropping to her mouth, “That I wanted to kiss you. That I should have thrown you down on that table in front of that idiot manager and fucked you through at least three orgasms.”

Her breath left her in a rush. She worked hard to keep herself calm. He didn’t talk that much about his fantasies, and she was desperate to hear more from him. Eva did not want to interrupt.

She kissed him softly in encouragement, “What else?”

Breathing her name, he ran his thumb over her mouth, “I could scent that you were aroused when you sat down. I wanted to lick that sweetness from the source, use my fingers to scoop it out of you. I spent hours imaging what it would be like to pull your legs over my shoulders and kiss this pretty pussy.”

The fingers of one of his hands had traced up her inner thigh in a lazy caress. He cupped her, massaging very gently. She gasped lifting her leg over his hip to open up for him.

“We’re very lucky you haven’t had a heat cycle yet. Given how I was in my last rut, I’d probably lose my fucking mind.”

Eva flinched, feeling guilty.

“What was that?” he asked, head lifting off the pillow to regard her closely.

She floundered, trying to come up with a suitable lie.

“Eva,” he warned, “What was that?”

Voice small, she said, “I’ve had a heat recently.”

His head cocked to the side, “Before we met?”

She shook her head, “No it was after we met, after we started seeing each other.”

He blinked, “That’s impossible, I would have known.”

Unable to keep eye contact she admitted, “You weren’t there. It was when you were gone for that mission.”

He processed that for several seconds, his eyes narrowing more and more, “Your voice was strange on the phone.”

Eva nodded, “I was on the upswing of it. It got...more interesting over the next few days.”

Horacio’s brows furrowed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eva was torn by the honest, confused expression he was giving her, as if he couldn’t even fathom that she’d hide it from him. Guilty, she offered the only explanation she had.

“You were so excited. You said you thought you had a real chance at ending the whole cartel. How could I take that away from you? Especially since we’d only slept together a handful of times. It would have been selfish to ask you to set that aside for me.”

Stop talking, Eva, she thought.

Pushing off with one hand, he rolled her beneath him, resting his weight on his palms. Eva looked up at him silently, trying to gauge his thoughts.

“You’re not going to do that again,” he asserted, the muscles in his jaw ticking, “I will be with you during your next heat, no matter what is going on at the office.”

Lifting a hand, Eva brushed his cheek, his stubble scratching a little. Since they’d come out here, he hadn’t been shaving every day and she found that she liked that he had something more than a five ‘o clock shadow.

“I’m going to need verbal agreement on this, Eva.”

“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll tell you next time.”

“Good.” He dropped to his elbows, resting a little more of his weight on her, “Now, I told you mine. Its your turn to tell me yours.”

Eva’s face went red hot, heat soaking every pore. Her eyes slid to the side as she contemplated how much information she was going to give him about a heat that she had only a moment ago admitted that she’d had.

Moving in close, his voice a deep rasp, he ordered, “Dime, amorcita. How did you get through it?”

She sucked in a breath, her body curling into him a little bit. When she tried to rise up to kiss him, he used one hand to hold her down to the mattress, his chin canted down.

Eva’s mind flashed back to that day, her body clenching as she remembered the rush of pleasure, the cramps of pain when she couldn’t assuage the need.

“I slept some, woke up coming. My skin was too sensitive. And, at first, I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t until I was on the couch,” she stopped, biting her lip.

Her voice was a raspy thing, the words halting. She cleared her throat, squirming beneath his weight.

Horacio ran a soothing hand down her side, “What happened on the couch?”

“I touched myself, I felt like I would die if I didn’t come.”

Eyes full of fire, he asked, “And, did you make yourself come?”

She nodded.

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

With both hands, he pushed up her t-shirt to rest just underneath her breasts, “What happened next?”

Eva’s fingers curled into fists beside her hips, “You called.”

His eyes shot to hers, “And you lied to me.”

“No,” she cried, “I just...avoided the subject.”

Horacio’s nostrils flared in annoyance, “But, you’re not going to do that again.”

“N—no.”

He gave on sharp nod in acknowledgment of her submission, “Good. What happened after that?”

His hands followed a twin path over her sides to her hips to her thighs, all the way to her knees. Wrapping his hands around them, he pulled them up and over his body, pulling the cradle of her hips into alignment so that she could feel him hardening against her core.

“I had to crawl to the bedroom,” she continued, the flush of her arousal mixing with the feeling of embarrassment. “I didn’t make it to the bed before I had to come again.”

Kissing her collarbone, he asked, “Did you use your fingers?”

She nodded, gripping his biceps for purchase as he scraped his teeth along her skin.

“Did you use your fingers the whole time?”

Swallowing, Eva shook her head, knowing where this was going and completely unable to stop it. He’d gotten into a line of questioning, and she knew he’d see it through to the end.

“What did you use?”

She hesitated long enough that he stopped nuzzling her skin and looked up at her, waiting for an answer. When she didn’t say anything, he moved up her body, kissing her cheek sweetly, then her forehead, her chin, her jaw, everywhere but where she wanted him.

“What did you use?” he repeated, his breath fanning over her lips.

Eva struggled to breathe, “I used a toy—to help.”

Thumb rubbing her bottom lip, eyes focused on that sensitized patch of skin, he asked, “A vibrator?”

She shook her head, tongue peeking out to touch the pad of this thumb, “A dildo.”

With a little groan, he kissed her, putting a little pressure on her jaw so that she would open for him. Pulling in a sharp breath, he leaned back, an arm sneaking around her waist to hold her to him.

“Did it help you get what you needed?”

Again, she shook her head, “It helped some, but I was still hurting through most of it.”

His expression hardened just a bit, a barely perceptible glare. Needing to soothe that ire, Eva reached up with both hands and slid her thumbs into the muscle at the base of his skull, kneading. His eyes closed just a little, jaw relaxing.

“Did it,” he cut himself off with a sigh when she ground a knuckle into the tense muscle. He leaned into it, his head tilting to the side, “Did it have a knot?”

“Yes,” she whispered, biting the inside of her cheek when his hips flexed forward, grinding against her.

He kissed her again, a hard press of his lips, “Did you fuck yourself with it, push it inside you?”

Between kisses, she nodded. The memory of the relieving pressure scoring through her, her body arching up into him.

“But it wasn’t enough.”

It was sentence, a declaration, not a question. He knew it, she knew it.

“No,” she warbled, tilting her hips towards him, hands roaming over his strong shoulders and back, pulling him to her to that the wasn’t an inch between them. “I wanted more. Wanted you.”

In a swift motion, he pulled off her t shirt, throwing it over the side of the bed carelessly. His hands found her breasts, pushing them up to his mouth. Long licks, a pinch of skin, teeth scraping. Eva hissed a breath, her body fairly vibrating with pleasure.

“You wanted my knot, didn’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he swatted her thigh lightly, drawing her attention, “Didn’t you?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, she made an ‘uh huh’ sound that cracked on the highest pitch. He was hard against her, his hips rocking in a sharp rhythm that, had he been inside her, would have prodded against her cervix. Sweat beaded on her belly and thighs, pooling in the hollow of her throat. He licked at it, drawing her briefly into his mouth.

“You’d let me do it now, wouldn’t you? Let me knot you in this bed.”

The image seared through her, burning away any restraint she might have had—which was, admittedly, not much to begin with. Feet on the sheets, she used any leverage she could get to put more friction on her cunt, each roll of her hips more frenzied than the last.

“Yes, alpha.”

Growling, Horacio pushed his face into the bend of her neck, hands slipping underneath her and to her shoulders where he held her steady. Mouth opening, he ran his teeth over the long line from shoulder to jaw before settling on the scent gland he’d marked. Though the bruising had healed, Eva could still see the faint scratch across it where his teeth had dug in. He sucked on it hard, sure enough to leave yet another bruise.

Eva wailed, a broken, sobbing thing, as she came. Nails digging into his back, she bowed up tight. Distantly, she could heard him praising her, his voice rough. He let her rut against him until her body eased down from the orgasm, and then he was pushing his briefs down and grasping himself, roughly stroking.

She took in the sight of him, chin down, breathing hard, working to get off. It stunned her how badly she wanted to memorize this moment, and how badly she wanted to seem him come. Both hands caressing downwards, she hooked the fingers of one hand into her panties, pulling them to the side. With two fingers of the other, she slotted them into her folds, opening them up to give him an unobstructed view of how wet he’d made her.

He choked on a gasp, groaning as his fist sped up. It only took a few pumps before he was spilling across her stomach, his head hanging low in relief. When he was spent, he collapsed to his side, trying to catch his breath.

Eva giggled, feeling more than a little lightheaded. He glanced at her, his mouth spreading wide in a smile. He picked up her hand from where it lay at her side, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist and holding it to his chest. She could feel his heart beat beneath his skin, a steadily slowing rhythm.

When he’d calmed a little, he rose and went to the bathroom, bringing a wet cloth to wipe her down. Moving around the room, he closed the windows, locking them tight, before doing the same with the door. After turning off the lights, he eased into the bed and gathered her to his chest. Eva held his arm to her body, threading her fingers in his.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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thejudgingtrash · 5 years ago

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@aph-usa-is-my-dad Thank you, thank you! 🙇🏽‍♀️

Alright lads, looks like it’s time for hot takes part III!

Here’s Part 1//Here‘s Part 2

Apollo won’t get Zeus position. Why is everyone wishing for that? And why should he? All of you really want to romanticize/project yourself onto him, huh?

Casual Reyna >>> praetor Reyna

Grover has the fattest ass in the Riordanverse, I don’t make the rules

People lack of basic reading skills part III

The fact that adults in New Rome let kids rule the fucking place is still mindblowing

Rick apologists are lame. People calling out shit isn’t an attack on you. Stop defending a product‘s/public figure‘s honor. Defending Rick Riordan is the equivalent of you defending the honor of a snickers bar. Dude doesn’t know you and dude doesn’t give a fuck about you. You are a walking dollar bill at best

Romans are still fucking wacky and despite Camp Jupiter being superior allegedly it’s a whole damn chaotic mess. Where are the supposed civilized Romans because I don’t see them?

Camp Half-Blood >>>> Camp Jupiter, especially when Percy trains in his summer vacations and beats praetor Jason’s goddamn ass who’s been training for 12 years

Why did Riordan even try to make Jason appear to come close to Percy’s level? The imbalance of power is so abundantly clear and makes Jason seem even smaller in that regard. Riordan is truly Percy’s biggest hater

The fact that CHB also glamorizes child soldiers in a more fun and relaxed way. Yikes

Nico is a white™ (again, he is European)

Rachel was annoying but didn’t deserve the blatant hate.

Annabeth should’ve had another possible love interest to spark some pissed Percy. Luke doesn’t count. Percy’s jealously revolves around (the possibility of) her not being around him (e.g. the hunters), not him ”losing“ her to someone else romantically speaking

Silena is the OG Aphrodite kid, fuck the rest

Amazons >> hunters by a slight margin. They’re also an awful bunch

The execution of the hunters is so bad omg, just let me revamp them, Ricardo

If a different take on a headcanon/characters really offends you/paint that much of a different picture of op, then I’m not sorry (only exception if the headcanon is based on discriminatory means. Someone saying they don’t like A and someone using slurs and being a douche are two different things)

The entire Aphrodite cabin is pan FYI

Team demigods who receive periods would probably be extra fucked when it comes to monsters and stuff. Let’s address this

Why exactly couldn’t the gods handle their own shit? Hunting monsters in your area makes sense as a demigod job. But stuff like retrieving Hermes‘ staff (especially when the dude is the speedy traveler guy) makes no goddamn sense

Let’s face it: Annabeth is the only good female character that Riordan pulled off. Also wasn’t she based off his wife? If so, that’s why.

The lack of irl examples for his POC and other women is abundantly clear as he can’t lure everyone from his environment into the stories especially because he has no irl connection to minorities. So he fabricated stuff/did his 5 mins of wiki and got it severely wrong. Clock that tea!

Camp Half-Blood t-shirts belong to the trash. Orange is Yellow‘s cousin and both are ugly to the max. Let’s just switch colors of both camps. Let the Romans deal with the hideous shit

Chiron and Paul are Riordan‘s self-inserts

Tbh giving Hazel super mist powers and tying Frank to Poseidon was stupid

Skater!Percy is pretty much canon but I just can’t envision it? The thought of it is cute and so 2000s but my brain goes fjfldlsöwlwbvd (and tbh gymnast!/dancer!/Parcours!Percy >>>>> skater!basketball!Percy)

People are forgetting that Percy is the unpopular kid both in the mortal realm and at camp and partially chose to be so? Let me remind you of the truth real quick

Beckendorf and Silena are the horny bastards of the Camp Half-Blood. Issa fact

The gods not really immortalizing Chiron and simply saying that he’ll live as long as he’s needed turned him into the cryptic fuck we all know. That’s why he barely helps out (On that note a tiny Chiron essay)

A headcanon, regardless of how popular it is, isn’t factual/reality. So fighting over different takes of the exact same issue is rather pointless but you do you. Some popular blog having an opinion with a large following doesn’t automatically negate your sentiment

Piper being ”unconventional“ as in hating make-up and being dressed up is in itself more than fine but the execution was lacking and her coming off as pretentious and annoying was the result

Piper also has no taste in men if she thinks that amnesia brick boy Grace > Percy. Just no. Lesbians claim haaa

If I see another Amandla or Zendaya or another biracial/lightskinned face claim for Hazel I will lose it

Everyone and their mother having a crush on Percy fuels them Gary Stu feelings, just saying

The fact that Riordan casually drops the abuse that Percy has suffered from like some fucking tic tacs just to never be spoken about should be a reason enough to whoop his ass

Not maturing and darkening HOO (there were good thoughts but also many whacky executions) was the biggest mistake Riordan had made. He should’ve went the Rowling route and transitioned from kids books to YA

The whole fire stick thing that Riordan ripped off from Meleager and slapped onto Frank was terribly executed

A lot of you people should open up more to jokes and not take everything all too seriously

The fact that people seriously ship/ped Reyna x Apollo is proof enough that this fandom should burn

Why do Luke discussions at this point still exist? You’re essentially glossing over the same four things

Hyping up fanfics to the max is a terrible idea. Also don’t shy away from giving writers constructive criticism

Stoner headcanons are here to stay and slay!

On one hand seeing discussions from the science side of PJO talking about the biology, physics etc. is super interesting but on the other hand getting heated over the illogical basis of ”magic“ is pretty much a waste of time

Riordan‘s world building is truly awful

Frazel is a crime against humanity

If you don’t get someone‘s post actually look op up and read the tags? No need to spam the exact question to everything

Fat Frank stays. I get it, Greek gods are hot, they are conceited and choose to fuck people that they perceive as attractive, so their offspring also has some higher levels in the beauty realm. But why not explore the opposite? Why does every character need a makeover or a blessing that gives them enhanced looks?

Clarisse‘s thigh can break ya neck

Also Riordan is Annabeth’s biggest hater. Let’s throw all of her most important possessions away to proof that the smart one can survive without any of it. Sure, but the emotional attachment to the stuff still remains especially when everyone else is walking out of Annabeth’s life

Making Leo another horny bastard was an accurate portrayal of your casual 16 year old boy. Annoying, but realistic

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hamsterboos · 4 years ago

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The Parent Trap

🎄Day 5 of 12 Days of PJO Christmas🎄

When Annabeth found out that Percy's family was coming down to California to visit them for winter break, she proposed at a dinner where her parents could meet his considering in the last seven years, their parents had never met in person.

Percy had been completely on board with the plan, and one night while offering food to the gods, he had jokingly said that it would’ve been a proper “meet-the-parents” dinner if Poseidon and Athena showed up as well. Annabeth, obviously, knew that it was a joke, and she agreed as well.

Who would’ve known that their godly parents weren’t in on the joke?

PSA: These drabbles are canon-compliant till HoO and just acknowledge the existence of Estelle. Also technology use is a thing.

Read on AO3

~~~~~

Percy couldn’t decide if tonight was going to be a gift or the worst decision he and Annabeth had ever made in their lives (which was really saying something, all things considered).

He really wanted to sit next to Annabeth, so he could take a hold of her hand and calm himself down during this seriously trying time, but all he could do instead was hold her gaze and hope she was reading the panic in his eyes. It seemed to work because she winced slightly, and he wanted to do something, but instead he caught Athena’s gaze and flinched. He immediately glanced down at his bowl of pasta, picking at it with his fork.

“So,” Percy’s mother began, “Frederick, how is that book coming along?”

At first, Percy’s silent instinct was to thank the gods for his mother’s instinct to make anyone feel welcome that it was possible to diffuse the insane amount of awkward tension that was in the room, but he immediately realized that two of the gods were currently sitting with him at a dinner table in a San Francisco restaurant, and he suddenly wished he could just jump off a cliff.

That seemed like more fun than this.

It was supposed to just be Sally, Paul, Frederick, Helen, Percy and Annabeth at dinner, a few days before Christmas. The Jackson-Blofis family had decided that for winter break this year, they’d come down a week early to visit Percy and Annabeth at New Rome, and Annabeth jumped at the chance to let her parents meet his parents. It would allow the two families to connect for Christmas, and it was quite funny for them to realize that over the seven and half years, Annabeth’s parents had never met Percy’s.

Percy had been completely on board with the plan, and one night in the New Rome college’s cafeteria, while giving offerings to the gods, he had jokingly said that it would’ve been a proper “meet-the-parents” dinner if Poseidon and Athena showed up as well. Annabeth, obviously, knew that it was a joke, and she agreed as well.

Who would’ve known that their godly parents weren’t in on the joke?

As the six of them were walking into the restaurant they made reservations at, the atmosphere light and cheerful thanks to the bright lights, Christmas decor, and the excitement of seeing their family after so long, they were suddenly joined by a man in a plain blue button down shirt with jeans and sea-green eyes that Percy was all too familiar with and a woman in a royal purple professional dress with stormy gray eyes that looked eerily like his girlfriend’s.

It was Percy who saw them first, looking up at the street outside the restaurant after texting Hazel back who was baby-sitting Estelle, Matt, and Bobby about Estelle’s bed time as the others were deep in conversation about one of his mom’s books.

He stopped in his steps; his heart stuttering in his chest. Percy’s brain stopped working for a moment, and he swore that he was hallucinating because there was no way, just none at all, that Poseidon and Athena were at a restaurant. Together.

It had to be a joke. Why else would they be there all of a sudden without any warning?

Sure enough, they were glaring at each other, but as soon as Poseidon noticed Percy’s gaze on him, he smiled. Athena simply turned the glare from his father to him, but it wasn’t as strong as the glare that she had given him a few years back at Olympus. In fact, Percy could’ve sworn that there was a bit of fondness in her eyes that made the entire situation that much weirder, but he took a small amount of solace in the fact that she still disliked him.

At least there was one normal thing about the entire situation.

Percy blinked at the gods standing in front of him, — once, then twice just to make sure that he wasn’t actually hallucinating — and he had been frozen long enough that his mom had noticed he wasn’t following. She turned to look at him, but her back was still to Poseidon and Athena, so she paid them no attention as she called out to her son.

“Percy?” she asked, breaking him out of his stupor.

Ignoring his mom, he ended up stuttering out, “Uh. Dad. Athena. Hi?”

At his words, he heard a commotion near the door, and he turned to look at Fredrick steadying Annabeth, an arm on her bicep as she clutched the door frame with her free hand.

Annabeth let out a gasp as she exclaimed, “Mom?!”

“You kids asked for us to be at your dinner, so here we are,” Poseidon explained, a small smile on his face, clearly happy at surprising Percy and Annabeth.

Percy was definitely surprised, but the jury was still out on the happy bit.

“You both wished for it, so I agreed to join you for the night,” Athena added, folding her hands in front of her. Her eyes wandered between Annabeth and Frederick for a moment before landing on her daughter.

“You did?” Frederick asked Annabeth before turning to look at Percy. Percy looked at Annabeth in a panic. He couldn’t remember asking them to come, and his brain worked overtime until the dinner from a few weeks ago came to mind, and he could tell the exact moment that Annabeth also remembered exactly what had gone down that night.

His brain scrambled to come up with something to say that wouldn’t offend his parents — godly or otherwise — but he was blanking. A quick glance at Annabeth’s panicked face as she came to stand next to him said the same thing, and Percy immediately blurted whatever came to mind.

“Yes, kind of? It was mostly a joke because we didn’t think you guys would show up, but you’re here! And that’s great! We should go in!”

Annabeth swatted him in the arm, glaring at him, and he just shrugged helplessly.

“You really have a special talent for ticking off gods,” Annabeth muttered, and he honestly couldn’t even pretend to deny it this time.

And yet, here they were, thirty minutes later into their dinner, and all he could feel were Athena’s occasional glares towards him.

He wanted to die.

Percy was sitting between Poseidon and Sally, with Paul next to Sally while across from him was Annabeth. She was stuck between Frederick and her mother with her step-mother sitting next to her father.

Safe to say, both of them were definitely struggling.

Thankfully, after about ten minutes of stifling awkward silence during which they had ordered their dinner and had begun eating, Sally had finally spoken up to start the conversation.

Percy tried to pay attention to the conversation so he had something to distract himself with the numerous ways the dinner could go wrong that his brain had come up with (monster attack, another godly attack, Athena attacks Poseidon, Poseidon attacks Athena—), but it wasn’t working out very well for him.

He was almost half-way through planning a route of escape and looking at the small aquarium in the back of the restaurant, trying to figure out if he could use the water from that to fight when Helen spoke up, jolting Percy out of his thoughts.

“Percy, how’s the swimming going at New Rome?” Helen asked.

“Oh, it’s going good. I never really learned the proper techniques, so there’s a bit of a learning curve, though. I’m not officially competing, but it’s just nice to be in the water.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw his father grin, and he couldn’t help but be proud that he was making his father happy.

“Good thing that everyone knows that he’s the son of a sea god,” Sally teased, “otherwise I would’ve said he was cheating.”

“Mom!”

“She’s not wrong, Perce,” Annabeth laughed.

“Says the girl who wanted to compete in the Trivia Bowl,” he responded, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend.

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Okay, okay,” Paul laughed. “We get it. Not everyone has godly powers,” he teased. Percy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling anyways as he ate some more of his pasta.

“How is Estelle?” Poseidon asked. Percy jumped slightly, not expecting him to ask about his baby sister. Or to speak up at all.

“She’s doing wonderfully,” Sally responded.

“She’s not here?” his father asked.

“No,” Percy responded. “She’s with Annabeth’s brother with Hazel.”

“Hades’ daughter?” Athena asked.

Annabeth clarified, “Pluto’s, but yes.”

“It would be nice to meet her,” Poseidon offered, and Sally was quick to promise that he could drop by whenever to meet Estelle, and Percy let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Things seemed to be looking up despite the slight awkwardness still lingering, but he supposed there was nothing they could do about that when a bunch of mortals and demi-gods were sitting and having a normal dinner with gods.

His father continued speaking, “How is it going to college?”

“I never thought I’d say this, but it’s the most relaxing yet chaotic thing I’ve ever experienced,” Annabeth responded. Percy laughed, understanding exactly what she meant.

“I don’t know what they’ve done to change the college experience since I went, but it definitely wasn’t relaxing,” Paul responded.

“It’s relaxing in the sense that we don’t have to worry about monsters attacking us every two seconds, but we’re running around trying to study more often than not,” Annabeth explained, and Percy nodded along.

“So, are you two living together?” Athena asked, casually forking up some pasta.

He shared a glance with Annabeth before she responded, her hand coming up to play with the heart and owl necklace he had gifted her the previous Christmas.

“No. We both dorm with different roommates.” Athena nodded, clearly very happy with the answer, and Percy watched as her attention dropped down to the necklace that was in Annabeth’s fingers.

“Is that an owl on your necklace, Annabeth?”

“Huh?” Annabeth looked down. “Oh, yes. Percy gifted it to me for Christmas last year.”

“Is that so? It’s beautiful, Percy,” Athena complimented, and Percy tried his hardest not to flinch at her strong gaze. There wasn’t any maliciousness in that gaze, and he was surprised that she wasn’t seconds from striking him down.

“Thank you,” he responded. “Annabeth actually got me something similar.” He pulled out the ring necklace from underneath his button up shirt, letting it dangle in front of his chest for them to see.

“Are those waves?” Poseidon asked, a hint of awe in his voice. Annabeth shyly nodded. “Thank you for giving that to him, Annabeth.”

“Of course,” she breathed out, looking at Percy with wonder in her eyes. Percy smiled back, and the two of them shared a silent look of happiness.

Annabeth immediately took a hold of Percy’s arm and wrapped hers around his as they were walking out of the restaurant once they were done.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” she whispered to him. They stood a few steps back and away from their parents as they chatted.

“Me neither. I still think I’m dreaming.”

“I don’t think your brain could even come up with this, Percy.”

“Can you go one day without insulting me?”

“It would take a Christmas miracle.”

“Oh, so you mean something like what just happened here? Don’t think I’m letting the fact that it’s literally Christmas in three days go.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“How?! Athena and Poseidon made it through an hour without arguing!” Percy responded, looking at his girlfriend incredulously. Annabeth snorted as she still watched their parents.

“You sure about that?” she asked, pointing forward. He followed where her finger was pointing, only to find his father and her mother arguing about the chariot.

Again.

~~~~~

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4

#percabeth #percabeth fic #pjo #pjo fic #12 days of pjo christmas #12 days of christmas #fluff #percy #percy jackson #annabeth

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syntheticpoetry · 5 years ago

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And the World Spins Madly On, Chapter 12

Summary: A few weeks after visiting Kurt in New York and confessing to cheating Blaine is attacked and left for dead, resulting in a traumatic brain injury. Burt finds him on his way home from work and calls Kurt to deliver the news. How will Kurt help Blaine pick up the broken pieces when his own heart is still so conflicted?

And The World Spins Madly On (ff.net link if you’d like to leave a review!)

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11

The entirety of the two-and-a-half-hour movie passed by in a hazy blur. If Kurt was being honest, he did not think it possible that any of them had been able to pay attention to any of the details at all. They had simply taken to their collective silence and continued through the motions only to maintain some pretense of normalcy. Blaine had remained asleep, nuzzled securely against Kurt’s chest, through the entire film, oblivious to the stolen glances that Kurt was pretending not to notice. On more than one occasion he caught Cooper’s gaze lingering for longer than the conspicuous number of seconds that everyone else felt was customary, his expression completely indiscernible. As the end credits began to scroll across the screen, they remained in silence. No one seemed to want to make the first move. After about a minute of background music, Cooper finally spoke.

“Kurt, let me help you get him to bed?”

Kurt recognized that tone, the overly protective ‘we need to talk’ voice, and picked apart the unspoken request between his words. He had bought himself over two hours to sift through the tidal wave of thoughts swirling around his mind and still did not feel ready for the conversation, but he nodded. Cooper crossed the room and knelt down, trying to figure out the easiest way to go about untangling Blaine’s arms from Kurt’s torso to lift him up. As Kurt leaned forward he felt Blaine’s embrace tighten around him and looked down to see his face contorted with worry even though he remained fast asleep.

“Let me see if I can talk him into moving,” Kurt whispered and ran a hand along the length of one of Blaine’s arms. He leaned down to speak quietly in Blaine’s ear, continuing to rub his arm in an attempt to gently rouse him. “Blaine, time for bed.” Blaine scrunched up his face and turned it inwards to bury it in Kurt’s shirt, his breath warm and tranquil as it seeped in through the material against his skin. “Come on, I know you’re tired,” Kurt pressed a kiss to the top of his head and took to trying to wriggle his fingers beneath Blaine’s arms to break his hold.

“No, don’t go,” Blaine pleaded, his somnolent voice muffled as he spoke into Kurt’s chest.

“We’re going together,” Kurt replied before kissing his head again. The sea of prickly hair growing in made his lips tingle as they made contact. “Come on, this can’t be comfortable for you. Let’s go lie down, Cooper’s going to help.”

“Come on, buddy,” Cooper took his opportunity to slip his arm around Blaine’s torso after Kurt had managed to lift his arms to create a wide enough space. Blaine instinctively wrapped his arms around Cooper’s neck and whined quietly in protest, but kept his eyes closed. In one swift motion Cooper lifted him up and carefully carried him to the guest room. Kurt remained on the couch momentarily, rotating his shoulders to will away the numbness that had set in from remaining motionless in the same position for such an extended period of time while Finn finally shuffled over to the DVD player to remove the disc. As Kurt was just getting ready to stand up and follow Cooper out the sound of his father clearing his throat earned his attention instead.

“Kurt, if you ever wanna talk. About any of, you know, this stuff going on,” Burt leaned forward, clasping his hands together. He did not know when it had happened over the course of the last month, but Kurt thought he somehow looked older now. Maybe it was just exhaustion. They were all feeling it. He had been shocked to see his own reflection in the mirror earlier after his call with Isabelle, his face almost unrecognizable beneath the raw layer of puffy, pallid skin.

“I know, dad,” Kurt pressed his palms against his knees and, with great effort, managed to peel himself off of the couch. His back had never ached so much.

“So, are you two—” Burt had been interrupted when Carole swatted his arm gently. “What? I’m just asking!”

Kurt offered a feeble, half-hearted smile. “It’s… complicated. I really would rather just leave it at that right now. I’m gonna go see if Cooper needs any help.” He all but ran from the room to avoid anyone else’s response, knowing full well he needed to save his energy for the interrogation he was bound to be receiving from Cooper momentarily. He entered the guest room to discover Cooper in an unsuccessful attempt to unhook Blaine’s arms from around his neck and let out a quiet chuckle. “He did this a lot during sleepovers, here.”

Kurt approached them and began pressing his fingers into the back of Blaine’s hands, working his way up his arms and proceeded to rub small, delicate circles into his shoulders. Blaine’s grip around Cooper’s neck slackened and Kurt nodded towards one of the pillows, keeping his fingers busy working into the muscles along Blaine’s neck and upper arms, “Grab that, we’ll do a swap.” Cooper obeyed the command and after another minute of Kurt’s physical coaxing they had managed to slip the pillow between Blaine’s arms. He embraced it tightly and buried his face away from view.

“He should be okay for a little while, usually takes him at least an hour before he realizes it’s not an actual person,” Kurt rotated his shoulders again before lacing his fingers together behind his back to hold his arms into a stretch.

“You said this used to happen a lot?” Cooper watched Blaine, his expression forlorn.

“Yeah,” Kurt brought his arms forward again and folded them across his chest, observing Blaine snore softly against the pillow. “After everything he said today about your dad, I feel like it all makes more sense now when I look back.”

“What does?” Cooper pulled the blanket up around Blaine to tuck him in, pausing to press down on the pillow near his nose and mouth as though he was paranoid Blaine might suffocate himself if he kept his face buried long enough. Blaine crinkled his nose in response to the action and proceeded to bury his face deeper into the pillow instead.

“The way he clings for affection like that, for one. How he’s always looking for everyone’s approval,” Kurt sat down at the foot of the bed, keeping a fair amount of distance between him and Cooper. “I guess a lot of the way he’s acted and responded to things. I just never put much thought into it until now. I wish he’d have said something sooner.”

“He’s always held onto his secrets, even from me if he could help it,” Cooper finally tore his eyes away from Blaine to face Kurt. Kurt made a conscious effort not to squirm as they sat in silence. After a pregnant pause, Cooper added, “He told me about what happened between you two. The reason you guys broke up, I mean.”

“Before or after he became incapable of filtering his thoughts?” Kurt asked, his tone forcing the question to sound unintentionally bitter.

“After,” Cooper shook his head and sighed. “That first night alone I had with him in the hospital after he woke up. He could barely speak, but he just wouldn’t stop. He thought he imagined you being there when he woke up, kept saying it was impossible that you were actually there.” Kurt kept silent and took to watching Blaine sleep again in order to avoid having to face Cooper. “I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to calm him down. When I tried to tell him he wasn’t imagining it he just told me I was lying. He was getting so worked up, they had to sedate him. Some small part of me thought maybe he was over exaggerating how badly things ended between you two if you were sitting there beside me, looking at him the way you did, when he was saying you weren’t supposed to be. Like maybe he was just beating himself up like he always does.”

“And the other part?” Kurt asked robotically. A dull ache surfaced from the pit of his chest as his mind wandered askew towards the scene Cooper had described. He remembered the laborious effort Blaine had overexerted himself with just to speak a few simple words, let alone complete sentences. He also remembered the look on Blaine’s face when he had almost kissed his cheek as a force of habit and an insidious thought crawled into existence from his subconscious. ‘Was it my fault for setting him off like that?’

“The other part saw how conflicted you were. Noticed how it seemed like you were holding yourself back sometimes when you were around him. Like you were trying to remind yourself not to get too close.” Kurt shifted his eyes quickly in Cooper’s direction to discover he also had been watching Blaine again as he spoke. Neither of them could bear to face each other. In his brief glance, Kurt could not help but notice the worry lines decorating Cooper’s forehead as though they had become a permanent fixture. Another uncomfortable silence blanketed them again before Cooper asked, “Was it as bad as he made it out to be, Kurt?”

“Yes,” Kurt’s reply came as a strained whisper. He cleared his throat quietly in an effort to lend some semblance of strength to his voice. “After he told me, I just tried to completely ignore him. He would call and call and call, I wouldn’t answer. I finally sent him a text telling him to leave me alone, that I didn’t care how sorry he was and I didn’t want to hear from him anymore. So he stopped. My dad would try to ask what happened and I just didn’t want to deal with it, so I told him and everyone else not to talk to me about him. That we broke up and that was that. I tried to just move on with my life in New York and completely cut him out.”

“So what’s going on with you two now? Because the way it looks to me, something’s changed. What was going on back there?”

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Kurt admitted truthfully. “It’s been confusing for me ever since I got here. I’m just trying to figure it out as I go, Coop,” He scooted closer to the two of them and brushed his fingertips over Blaine’s bicep. Blaine immediately leaned into the touch, shifting his head to rest sideways on the pillow and continued to breathe quietly into the space between them.

“Kurt, if it’s confusing for you imagine how confusing it must be for him,” Cooper replied, his tone serious and concerned. “He can’t process things the way he used to anymore. You’ve seen that. And it’s not like I think you’re taking advantage of that, but I’m just,” Cooper stood up and crossed the room, his hands on his hips. “I’m just worried.”

“I understand,” Kurt twisted around to face him, taking care not to wake Blaine. “I’m not trying to hurt him, Cooper.”

“I’m not worried about you intentionally doing it, Kurt. I’m worried he gets his hopes up while you’re figuring things out. I’m worried he gets too attached too quickly because he can’t understand what’s happening and it doesn’t end up working out between you two again. I see how good you are with him, and I’m worried I’m not gonna be able to step in and take over if I have to pick up the pieces.” Cooper paced around the room, his eyes darting everywhere but the bed. Kurt could not help but compare him to Blaine, the way he could never keep still when his nerves had surmounted past the point of manageability and he needed to resort to walking himself into a rut in the ground.

“So what are you asking of me?”

“I don’t know,” Cooper stopped and studied the wall before turning to meet his gaze. “Just be careful with him. And don’t follow through with this if you’re just reacting out of pity.”

“I still love him,” Kurt replied quietly.

“Anyone with eyes has been able to see that, Kurt,” Cooper offered him a tired smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“I’m trying to forgive him. Trying to rationalize everything that happened, trying to come to terms with the fact that maybe it was partly my fault too. I know I was trying to actively keep him out of my life after we broke up, but imagining him completely gone from the world? Coop, it killed me to think it was a possibility that I would never get to see or talk to him again. It just— It put a lot of things into perspective for me.” Kurt swallowed hard while his heart continued to palpitate frantically. It had been nearly a month since Blaine had woken up from his coma, but the memories of uncertainty as he watched him motionlessly clinging to life for a week straight still elicited the same feelings of anxiety. He slid his hand across the comforter and placed it atop Blaine’s, trying to tether himself back down towards equilibrium again. Blaine’s fingers twitched against the pillow.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Cooper replied. Kurt tilted his head quizzically and he continued, “I only have his side of things, and even that has been pretty choppy. Can you tell me your side of what happened?”

Kurt opened his mouth and closed it again. After a moment of watching Blaine continue to sleep he responded, “Can we step outside? I could use some air. I’ll ask my dad to keep an eye on him, I’m sure he won’t mind.” Cooper nodded and left the room after they agreed to meet outside. Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine’s cheek, breathing in the scent of raspberries from their bath earlier, before rummaging through the dresser drawers. He pulled out a navy blue hooded pullover sweatshirt and smiled as his eyes fell upon the image imprinted on the front of it. He ran his fingers fondly over the large Dalton logo before pulling it over his head and venturing off to find his father. Burt and Carole were still in the living room with Finn. Without the background noise of the movie it became completely obvious what their conversation must have entailed when the three of them abruptly stopped speaking once Kurt had entered the room.

“Very inconspicuous,” Kurt rolled his eyes. “Dad, can you keep an eye on Blaine? Cooper and I are just gonna go chat in the backyard for a little while.”

“Sure, bud,” Burt replied and Kurt left to meet Cooper.

Though it was late November, it had been a comfortable enough night to venture out in the sweatshirt he had borrowed from Blaine. Kurt pulled out a chair at the garden table and took the seat across from Cooper. He leaned back and brought one knee up close to his chest, hooking his arms around him so he could hold it steady and rest his chin atop it. Cooper leaned forward with his hands folded together on the table, waiting patiently. Kurt sifted through his memory of the chain of events leading up to that horrible night back in early October, having re-examined some things with new eyes within the last few weeks.

“I guess I should start with before I moved to New York,” he finally settled on. “I don’t know if he talked to you at all about anything that happened before that?”

“Just that he was going to miss you when you left, nothing too much deeper than that,” Cooper replied.

“We got into a big fight a little while before I was supposed to leave. We were both sort of distant with each other, not really communicating. He accused me of cheating on him because I was texting someone, but we cleared it all up. I set us up to talk to our guidance counselor afterwards though because I felt like he still wasn’t telling me everything, and you know how he is— you have to keep pulling teeth and start sifting through all the layers of everything he pretends to be upset about before you actually get to it.” Cooper nodded and Kurt continued. “He finally said he had been so distant because he felt like all we ever talked about was New York anymore and he was trying to get used to the idea of a life without me there. I tried to reassure him, told him we would talk and visit each other all the time, and that seemed like it was enough, you know? Looking back, I guess it was a little overly ambitious and unrealistic to think that way. But at the time, it just felt like he was blowing it all out of proportion and worrying over a problem that I didn’t think existed between us. And then he tried to bring it up again closer to my graduation, wanted to talk about the fact that we were going to be in a long distance relationship, that it was going to be hard and we would have to put the work in if we wanted to make sure we would stay together. I didn’t want to hear it. In my head, we were perfectly fine. I loved him and he loved me, and so I figured that was all there was to it. I just kept… shutting him down and writing it off every single time he wanted to talk about it because I didn’t see any issues with us.”

Cooper remained motionless across from him, leaning back against his seat with his arms folded against his chest. When he offered no comments, Kurt continued. “I bombed my NYADA audition and that’s when he really encouraged me to go to New York. Told me I didn’t belong in Ohio, that I was bigger than this place and it didn’t matter that I didn’t get into my dream school because I could find somethingto do there. I asked him about us, what would happen, and he told me we would be fine. That he would be there next year and it was my time to leave because it was killing him to see me unhappy here. So, I left. And, for lack of a better phrase, I got swept up in all of it. We would Skype together and talk from time to time, but I was so caught up in everything going on once I started working at Vogue that I didn’t really notice how it was affecting him. I,” Kurt swallowed and blinked rapidly, sending a few stray tears careening down his face. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose at first, I was just… busy. And he would just keep calling or texting to the point where I couldn’t keep up and I ended up missing calls and texting him back later and later. Then when he was running for student president, I purposely ignored his call. I was at a work thing and completely forgot about the election, I figured he was calling me again just because so... I ignored it. From there it just got worse. Again, not intentionally, but it just got a lot worse. I was busier than ever, we barely had time to talk and whenever we could get on the phone with each other I kept getting interrupted and had to go again.”

“Is this around the time he surprised you in New York?” Cooper asked when Kurt had paused for another moment to collect himself again.

“Yeah. After our last call I hadn’t been expecting him for another two weeks. He showed up the next day. And I just knewsomething was off. Something felt different. But when I asked him about it he just told me it had been a long flight and everything was fine, so I didn’t push it. We went out with Finn and Rachel to a piano bar and Blaine decided to perform, but he just… broke down as the song went on. We went for a walk afterwards and that’s when he told me he had hooked up with someone because he was lonely and I just shut down after that. I didn’t want to hear a word he said. I couldn’t look at him the same way. I just kept thinking I had all of these chances to cheat on him and I didn’t because I believed in us. Yeah, I had things to keep my mind occupied, but so did he, didn’t he? It wasn’t my fault he created his entire world around me and then told me to go off and live my life.”

Kurt roughly pressed his palms against his eyes and sniffled quietly. When he dropped his hands again he saw Cooper chewing on his thumbnail, staring at the glass garden tabletop. Neither of them spoke until the momentary pause transformed into an awkward silence that made Kurt squirm uncomfortably in his seat. He gave in and was the first to break it. “What are you thinking?”

Cooper lifted his gaze as though he was just noticing Kurt was sitting across from him and pulled his thumb away from his mouth. “Just that I’m sorry that things got so fucked up between you guys.”

“Yeah, well, like I said after everything he’s said today it’s easier to look back now and recognize all of the little things I chose to just ignore or completely write off because I had no idea where he was coming from,” Kurt shrugged.

“Still,” Cooper said seriously. “Him letting his pride get in the way of being able to talk to you or me and letting things build up until they inevitably explode doesn’t exactly mean he gets a free pass.”

“I don’t think it’s pride that makes him act that way,” Kurt sat up straighter and placed his hands beneath his thighs. Though it was not the typical chilly Ohio night for the time of year, his hands were beginning to feel clumsy and stiff. “I think he’s ashamed. I’m sorry to say this, cause I know it’s your father and all, but that asshole is a fucking bully and it’s pretty obvious that’s where a lot of Blaine’s insecurities stem from.”

“No offense taken there,” Cooper held up his hands. “I was just as shocked as you were today to hear the full extent of everything.”

“I mean, I knew he and Blaine didn’t exactly get along, he’s always only hinted at that and avoided the subject of him altogether at all costs most of the time, but after everything he said today it was a moment for me where the picture came into focus just a little bit clearer. I’ve just been going back and overanalyzing every little thing now. Everything he’s said, every time I thought he was being overly clingy or blowing things out of proportion. I don’t know if he necessarily realizes it, but maybe seeing that psychiatrist will do some good. So yeah, while I’m starting to see that maybe what happened between us was also partly my fault I also don’t believe it was entirely his fault because I would also have a pretty fucked up view of the world if my dad treated me anything like the way your dad has treated him.” Kurt pulled his hands out from beneath his thighs and took to fiddling with the drawstrings of the hood.

“I just can’t believe I never noticed it,” Cooper sighed heavily. “And I can’t believe he didn’t even tell me. He opened up so much more after he tried to kill himself, but couldn’t tell me about—” Cooper stopped abruptly, clearly aware of the fact that the secret had remained between him and Blaine up until now, and tried to backtrack. But Kurt had interrupted him, his voice a fleeting whisper amongst the crickets in the empty night, “Relax, I know about it. He told me last night. And he actuallytold me, it wasn’t just another time where he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.”

Cooper’s shoulders slumped and he leaned his head back against the mesh backing of the chair. “He begged me not to tell our parents. Said that he made a mistake and it would never happen again. I wanted to tell them, make them see the consequences of what they did to him, but he looked so terrified, I just couldn’t. He barely trusted me, if I betrayed that trust, I thought he’d never let me back in again.”

“How did they never find out if he was a minor though?” Kurt asked.

“I told them I was his father at the hospital,” Cooper responded quietly.

“And that worked?” Kurt stared at him incredulously.

“You’ve seen how small he is now, right? He was even worse then, looked so young and thin and sick,” Cooper paused and exhaled sharply. “There’s a ten year age difference between us, so I must have looked the part enough because they didn’t question it.”

“So that’s it? They just let you guys go?”

“Not exactly, they asked me if I wanted to have him committed to inpatient for a few days so they could monitor his behaviour,” Cooper had taken to staring up at the endless amounts of stars scattered across the clear sky. Kurt continued to watch him, hugging his knees tightly against his chest as though it would do anything to stop the ache in his heart as he pictured Blaine locked away in a padded room. “God, the look on his face when he heard that. He was terrified, Iwas fucking terrified, but I couldn’t do that to him. So they did an evaluation on him in the emergency department that took all night instead and then we were free to go.”

“Your parents never noticed or said anything about you guys being gone for so long?” Kurt had honestly been afraid to know the answer as the question left his lips.

“Our mother did,” Cooper’s smile was faint as the sadness seeped into his words. “So we lied. Said I took him out to Columbus to meet up with some of my old friends and I was too tired to drive back so we stayed the night. She didn’t question it.”

“Do you regret it?” Kurt asked quietly.

“For a while, I did,” Cooper shifted and sat up straight again, tearing his eyes away from the sky and focused on Kurt again. “I was so afraid I made the wrong choice, was so scared to leave him alone in case he tried to do it again. But he started letting me in more and more, and I thought maybe I did do the right thing by trying to help instead of push him into the hands of some stranger that he would not have been ready for. Would I make the same decision now though? I honestly don’t know. Maybe he would have learned how to process everything that’s happened with professional help when I clearly was not qualified.”

“He worships you, you know,” Kurt smiled weakly. “I think he definitely gets jealous sometimes, but I know he thinks very highly of you.”

“I shouldn’t have left again,” Cooper stated. “If I stayed, maybe I would have noticed more. Maybe he would have told—”

“You know he would have resented that,” Kurt interrupted him sternly. “He would have felt like he was holding you back and blamed himself for you giving up your dream.”

“I know you’re right,” Cooper sighed heavily again, the familiar trend of the evening. “But still.”

“I know,” Kurt unhooked his arms from around his knees and sluggishly dropped his feet to the ground. “You know, I’m glad we had this conversation. I was really dreading it back inside when you asked to help bring him to bed because I thought you were going to start laying into me about everything. I can see why he likes to talk to you about the heavy stuff.”

“Like I said, I’ve seen how good you are with him. I’m not trying to come between that, but you see where I’m coming from with being worried, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kurt propped his elbows onto the table and leaned forward to rest his chin atop his clasped hands. “I can’t promise you everything is going to work out between us, but I can promise I will always be here for him. For both of you. If this has shown me anything, it’s that I can’t just walk away. Whatever happens he’s always going to be my best friend.”

Cooper surveyed him carefully before nodding once. “It’s getting late; we should probably go relieve your dad.”

Kurt perked up as Cooper stood. “Can I stay with him again tonight?”

“You don’t need to ask my permission, Kurt. Of course you can. You mind if I take your bed then?”

“Not at all,” Kurt replied. When they walked back inside Carole and Finn had relocated to the kitchen and were conversing quietly. They both looked up and smiled as Kurt was sliding the screen door closed behind themselves.

“Surprised you guys are still up,” Cooper commented.

“Gossip never sleeps,” Kurt quipped, earning an eye roll from Finn.

“We’re not talking about you, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Finn replied.

“Then who?” Kurt eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s— it’s private,” Finn stammered out.

“Ah,” Kurt smiled, his instincts leading him to believe he had been talking to his mom about Rachel. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it then. Goodnight!” He waved his hand in a sort of dramatic salute before heading towards the guest room. As he drew near the door, the sound of his father’s voice caused him to lighten his footsteps and creep up quietly, melding against the wall beside the open door frame so he could listen.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Kurt could hear the way his father’s voice wavered, the strain and the pain beneath his words. He took a chance and tilted his head towards the frame for a quick peek inside. Burt’s back was to the door, he was sitting on the edge of the bed speaking to Blaine, who appeared to still be asleep in the exact position Kurt and Cooper had left him in. “You didn’t deserve any of this. I wish I had gotten to you sooner, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe you wouldn’t have—”

When the quiet sob wracked his father’s body like a steam roller, cutting off his voice and reducing him to rubble, Kurt could not stand idly by any longer. He took a step into the room and slid a hand onto Burt’s shoulder, “Dad, you can’t go down that road.”

“It was rightoutside the shop, what if I could have stopped it?” Burt placed his hand on top of Kurt’s, doing nothing to stop the steady stream of tears. He had not lost his composure like this since he had dropped Kurt off at the airport to leave for New York.

“Stop it,” Kurt said sternly. “Dad, please. It’s no one’s fault but the homophobic assholes that did this. You did everything you could, and it’s probably the only reason he’s even alive. So please, don’t beat yourself up like this.”

“Sorry, bud. You’re right, I know you’re right,” Burt stood up and before Kurt knew it he was wrapped up in the tightest embrace he could ever remember his father giving him since his mother had passed away. “Everything go okay with Cooper?”

“Yeah, dad. It was a good talk,” They lingered in the embrace silently for a few seconds before Kurt let his head fall onto Burt’s shoulder. “How was he?”

“Quiet, hasn’t moved,” Burt patted Kurt’s back lightly and they broke apart finally.

“Good, maybe he’ll be able to sleep through the night for once,” Kurt replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. As if on cue, Blaine shoved the pillow away and sent it careening over the side of the bed. Still asleep, he blindly began groping around the mattress. Kurt slipped his hand into one of Blaine’s, who surprised him when he forcibly tugged on his arm with more strength than he had anticipated. Kurt grunted softly as he was pulled towards Blaine’s chest and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Let me get changed and I’ll lie down. No, honey, don’t you pout at me, I’ll be right back, I’m not going far.”

Blaine reluctantly released him and he stood up again, keeping his voice low as he walked with Burt towards the door. “Thanks for watching him.”

“Of course, bud,” Burt shuffled awkwardly in the doorway. Kurt raised an eyebrow questioningly. “I dunno the extent of what happened between you boys, and it’s none of my business if you don’t want it to be—”

“We’ll talk about it, dad, I promise. Just… not tonight. I’m afraid I’m a little talked out after today,” Kurt flashed a tired smile and Burt nodded.

“Alright, deal. Get some sleep,” Burt embraced him one more time and kissed the top of his head. “Love you.”

“Love you too, dad,” Kurt closed the door quietly behind him on his way out and returned to the dresser to borrow a set of pajamas from Blaine rather than disturb Cooper to retrieve them from his own room. He hastily changed his clothes and climbed into bed where Blaine immediately nestled against his side and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Kurt squirmed as his warm breath tickled his skin and sent goosebumps all the way down to his thighs. “Goodnight, you,” Kurt whispered, but Blaine was already fast asleep again.

____________________________________________________________________

The next few days passed by in a series of good ones and bad ones. By the time Thursday had finally rolled around, Kurt sat at the kitchen table feeling as though it had taken an entire month to arrive instead of the actual two days that had passed. Blaine had not been able to sleep through a single night without being plagued by nightmares, so Kurt and Cooper had taken to watching him in shifts. The previous morning had been an especially bad one. At 6 a.m. Blaine had jolted awake, panting heavily in the dark, and Kurt had been completely prepared for the routine to reorient and console him until—

“Who are you? W-Where am I?”

Kurt froze with his hands raised in midair as Blaine had recoiled, staring at him in terror. While Blaine had always had trouble discerning his surroundings, he had never forgotten who Kurt was before.

“Blaine, it’s me—” Kurt had barely been able to find his voice, the words coming out tiny and frightened as he remained still so he would not further startle him.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” Blaine began sobbing hysterically and proceeded to frantically shift away from Kurt towards the edge of the bed. Kurt’s heart leapt into his throat as he lunged towards him and wrapped an arm around his torso to keep him from falling off the side of the bed and hitting his head. Blaine, completely oblivious to the imminent danger Kurt had been saving him from, sobbed harder and began writhing under his grip. The words came rushing out of his mouth so quickly Kurt was not even sure he was breathing in between. “Don’t hurt me— Please, just let me go— I won’t tell anyone— Please, I swear I won’t— Please, please don’t hurt me—”

“Blaine, I’m not going to hurt you!” Kurt tried to speak over him without shouting, but Blaine continued to plead and cry loudly. He curled his fingers tightly over Kurt’s forearm, struggling to break free of his hold. “Blaine, please,” Kurt’s voice cracked as his own tears of fear and frustration started to overtake. “Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Kurt—”

“I don’t know anyone named Kurt!” Blaine shouted and sobbed again, sputtering almost incoherently between giant gasps of air. “You— You have me confused with someone—”

Kurt could feel the knife being plunged into his chest and the slow twist of the blade, but he choked down whatever sorrow he was feeling and tried to remain calm. “Blaine, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’m a friend of your brother Cooper, he’s here too.” That seemed to grab Blaine’s attention. His grip on Kurt’s arm loosened momentarily before he tightened it again, digging his fingernails into the skin and shook his head frantically.

“No. No, you’re trying to trick me—”

“I’m not. I promise, I’m not. He’s downstairs, I can call him to come up here right now. I just have to reach my phone and I can call him. But you have to promise me you’re not going to move when I let go, I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. Okay?” Kurt spoke calmly and slowly, hoping his tone was enough to portray his concern. Blaine still seemed hesitant to believe him. “I will let you go and I’ll go stand on the other side of the room, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll put the phone on speaker and you can hear that it’s Cooper I’m calling, okay?”

Blaine studied his expression, his eyes moving so frantically it was enough to make Kurt‘s head spin. After what felt like an eternity, Blaine’s fingers slackened around his arm and Kurt used all of his willpower not to flinch as the pressure was relieved from the tiny little cuts where Blaine’s nails had been buried. “Show me his number as you’re dialing it,” Blaine stated determinedly, as though he was convinced he would call Kurt on his bluff to actually be calling his brother. Kurt agreed and tentatively lifted his arm away from Blaine so he could roll over and grab his phone off of the nightstand.

“Here, I’ll put it on speaker and you can see then I’ll go stand over there if you want me to, okay?” Kurt tried to swallow the lump in his throat as Blaine put as much distance between them as possible and nodded once. Kurt held the phone between them so Blaine could plainly see that he was punching in Cooper’s number. Blaine continued to stare at the device, his eyes flitting back and forth between Kurt and the screen as he hugged his arms around himself tightly.

“Kurt, what’s wrong? Is he okay?” Cooper’s worried voice came flying over the speaker after just one ring.

“Can you come upstairs, Coop? He’d really like to see you,” Kurt watched Blaine’s expression change in an instant as he continued to stare at the phone in disbelief.

“Coming right up,” Cooper responded and hung up.

“See? You’re safe,” Kurt said soothingly despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to break down into tears himself.

“Do I really know you? Why can’t I remember you? Where are we? How did I get here?” Blaine tilted his head up as Kurt put his phone away. The confusion and absolute panic etched on his face and in his tone of voice was enough for another sharp twist of the imaginary blade in Kurt’s heart right now.

“I’ll let Cooper explain,” Kurt’s voice wavered as he concentrated on preventing a fresh onslaught of tears. Within seconds, Cooper came running into the room, panting quietly. Kurt stood up quickly and left without uttering another word.

Kurt pushed away the recollection and took a long sip of his coffee as he watched Blaine, sat opposite him at the table, struggle to keep his hand steady enough to lift a spoonful of cereal up to his mouth. Blaine’s memory had returned shortly after the incident, but it had taken Cooper and Kurt another hour to calm him down once he had learned he could not remember who Kurt was. Though it had not been his fault, Kurt could not help but feel a slight sting at having been completely wiped away from Blaine’s memory. He set his mug down just as Blaine had propped elbows up onto the table and brought his chin to rest on his hands, staring daggers at the spoon in the full bowl of cereal. Behind them Carole had been bustling about, preparing everything for dinner that evening while Finn stood in front of the toaster oven, drumming quietly on the countertop with his fingers.

“Would you like some help?” Kurt shifted his chair closer to him and Blaine continued to scowl at the bowl.

“I’m useless, I can’t even do this,” Blaine said bitterly before dropping his arms onto the table, his balled fists thudding quietly against the wood.

“Stop that. What did we talk about yesterday?” Kurt brought his hand to rest over one of his hands and Blaine sighed loudly in response.

“It’s not my fault and will get better if I keep practicing,” Blaine recited mechanically.

“And?” Kurt prompted.

“And,” Blaine allowed his fist to be opened up so Kurt could lace their fingers together. “Some days might be better or worse than others and that’s okay.”

“And it’s okay to ask for help,” Kurt finished for him and leaned over to press a kiss onto his cheek.

“Can you help me, please?” Blaine mumbled, clearly still uncomfortable and embarrassed with the idea.

“Yes, I can,” Kurt lifted their hands together and guided Blaine’s over to the spoon. He helped to curl his clumsy fingers over the handle and kept his hand over Blaine’s as they lifted it up together. Blaine leaned forward too quickly and the sudden motion had caused their hands to jerk, spilling cheerios and milk onto the table. He groaned loudly in frustration.

“Forget it, I’m not hungry,” Blaine tried to pull his hand away but Kurt would not let him.

“Try again, come on,” Kurt prompted gently. Blaine glared at the mess on the table but agreed. The second attempt had been more successful. Kurt continued to help him before releasing his hand for the last few spoonfuls, which Blaine had managed to do, albeit at a much slower pace, on his own. “See?” Kurt smiled encouragingly and Blaine responded with a timid smile.

“You’re amazing; how could I ever forget you?” Blaine blurted out and proceeded to turn bright red. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I already told you,” Kurt scooted his chair right beside Blaine’s so their thighs were touching and gently pulled him closer to his body. “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

Blaine immediately melded into his side and let his head fall onto Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt wrapped an arm around him as he leaned forward to retrieve his mug and continued to drink his coffee. Finn took a seat at the table across from them and proceeded to squeeze a packet of white icing onto a toaster strudel. They sat quietly at the table, the rest of breakfast passing by peacefully with the quiet sound of Carole humming in the background as she prepared the turkey.

Sometime later in the afternoon, Kurt and Blaine had retreated to the living room to watch a repeat of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade as the kitchen had begun to get a little too overstimulating to Blaine’s liking. Finn had taken to laying on his side on the floor in front of them, his head propped up on his hand, and they had been taking turns commenting on the musical performances and random glimpses of people in the crowd. As the performance for the Cinderella musical was wrapping up, Cooper had walked into the room and dropped down into one of the armchairs, staring at his phone.

“What time are you leaving for the airport?” Kurt picked up on his anxious expression and Blaine tore his gaze away from the television to glance between them.

“Probably in an hour or so. Flight tracker says everything is running on time, so if I time it right I can get there as it lands,” Cooper placed his phone onto his lap. The screen was still lit up with the flight information on the airline phone application.

“You hear from them before the flight?” Kurt felt Blaine suddenly tense up against him and rubbed his hand along his upper arm.

“No—”

“Figures,” Blaine mumbled.

“But,” Cooper continued, “Mom left a voicemail sometime in the middle of the night saying she can’t wait to come see us.”

“She did?” Blaine replied doubtfully. “Can— Can I hear it?”

“Yeah, of course,” Cooper fiddled with his phone and crossed the room to hand it to him once he had navigated to his voicemail inbox. Blaine immediately tapped on her name and pressed the phone to his ear, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for her voice. Kurt could not help but feel sad as he watched him. The hopeful expression mingled with disbelief was apparent all over his face as though he thought Cooper had been lying to him. He had become so outspoken in voicing his doubts lately, and while Kurt was glad to see him finally verbalizing his concerns more often it still left him feeling melancholy to discover just how much Blaine doubted everyone around him.

“She really sounds like she means it, Coop!” Blaine said excitedly and pulled the phone away from his ear just enough to tap on her name again and replay the message.

“Yeah,” Cooper smiled weakly, but Blaine had been too caught up in his reaction to notice it. Kurt, however, could also see the fear on Cooper’s face behind the smile. He knew how nervous Cooper was for the reunion. They had briefly spoken during the previous nights about the implications and possible effects it would have on Blaine should things go in the complete opposite direction of what Blaine was expecting. Especially if Mr. Anderson had actually decided to accompany their mother on the journey home, despite Cooper’s insistence that he stay away. He reached his hand out and gave Cooper a gentle pat on the arm, hoping to offer some tiny token of reassurance. Cooper smiled appreciatively and retreated back to the armchair just as the parade had returned from a commercial break.

The next hour passed by in the blink of an eye and before they knew it, Cooper was bidding them goodbye and out the door. Kurt had decided to venture into the kitchen to help with dinner, but Carole and Burt both shooed him away, telling him to relax and enjoy the holiday. He took his seat next to Blaine again, who was watching a repeat of March of the Wooden Soldiers with Finn, and began texting Isabelle. He had been communicating with her and Rachel almost religiously for the past two days, but he chose to withhold a little more information from Rachel than he did with Isabelle. Deep down, he was not ready to deal with Rachel’s remarks after his kiss with Blaine considering how often she was still trying to talk him into coming back to New York. So while he kept her updated on Blaine’s medical status and the doctor appointments and upcoming surgery, he was careful to keep his emotional responses regarding the situations to a minimum with her for the time being. It was not that he did not trust her, but her constant need to spearhead every conversation and convert it into another attempt at what she called a ‘Blainervention’ was beginning to whittle away his patience towards her. Isabelle, on the other hand, received every detail of Kurt’s concerns and emotional status. She had been the only one to offer him unbiased advice and he never once felt judged by her whenever he took to rambling or recounting the previous days’ events.

Isabelle 6:09 p.m. What time should I stop by?

Kurt 6:11 p.m. We’re still waiting to eat dinner, Cooper’s still not back.

Isabelle 6:12 p.m. Nervous?

Kurt 6:12 p.m. Extremely. I just hope it goes okay. Coop let Blaine listen to a voicemail from their mom before he left and he sounded sooooo excited about it. I just don’t want to see him get his hopes up and get hurt.

Isabelle 6:15 p.m. Any word on if she’s flying solo or not?

Kurt 6:17 p.m.

Not a clue. We’ll find out soon though.

Kurt 6:18 p.m. If you want to come by whenever you’re done eating and don’t mind hanging out here that would be fine. My parents won’t mind

Isabelle 6:20 p.m. We’re sitting down now so I’ll keep you updated! Ciao darling! <3

Kurt shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Blaine and Finn. They were both laughing along to the movie, completely engrossed and unaware of their surroundings. Kurt smiled gratefully for the fact that today, so far, had turned out to be a good day and hoped the remainder of the evening was going to treat them just as kindly. Another half hour passed by before Kurt noticed headlights approaching the driveway. He checked his phone to be sure he had not missed any messages from Isabelle and, upon seeing he had not received any new messages except from Rachel wishing him a happy Thanksgiving and begging him for a phone call soon, he assumed it had to be Cooper pulling up to the house. He protectively slid an arm around Blaine and braced himself for their entrance. Through his heart pounding in his ears he was able to make out the sound of jingling keys and the gentle creak as the door slid open.

“Blaine?”

All three of them turned towards the door as Cooper’s voice cut through the noise on the television. He stepped inside and trailing behind him was a short woman with shoulder length, thick curly black hair and bright hazel eyes to match her son’s. Out of his peripheral vision, Kurt could see Blaine staring at the doorway like a deer in headlights. It was as though he had been expecting a trick to be played on him all along and never imagined his mother would actually be walking in through the doorway as she had promised she would. Kurt gave Blaine’s side a gentle nudge and raised his eyebrows towards the door.

“Kurt, is this real?” Blaine whispered to him as Cooper helped his mother out of her coat.

“Yes, say hello,” Kurt whispered back.

“H-Hi, mom,” Blaine said shyly. She beamed and approached him so quickly with outstretched arms his first reaction was to shrink back against Kurt. She frowned and dropped her arms slowly to her sides.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Go slow, mom,” Cooper closed the closet door after hanging up her coat.

“That’s how dad comes towards me when he’s going to—” Blaine clapped his hands over his mouth and the remainder of his accidental sentiment came out muffled. “Hit me. Goddamnit, stop talking.”

“Honey, it’s okay,” Kurt whispered and rubbed his arm soothingly. “She was just going to hug you.”

Mrs. Anderson continued to frown before deciding to drop down onto her knees in front of them. Blaine sluggishly lowered his hands, still leaning all of his weight against Kurt as he watched her. “Sorry, I have trouble— It’s hard for me to—”

“It’s okay, my little love.” Kurt could not help but notice how alike they looked. Her eyes squinted with the magnitude of her smile, something Blaine used to do so often but it had now become such a rare occurrence. “You take your time.” This seemed to be enough to flip the switch for Blaine. He lunged forward, throwing his arms around her neck, and nearly sent both of them toppling to the ground.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Blaine’s face became lost in the wild mess of her hair as she embraced him tightly.

“I promised I would,” she replied.

“Is it just you or,” he trailed off, leaning back just enough to make his face visible again.

“Your father’s at home, that’s why it took us a little longer, he wanted to be dropped off,” She had said the words so strenuously Kurt could tell she would never have even considered uttering them at all had Blaine not asked first.

“Oh,” Blaine replied quietly.

Burt and Carole walked into the room wearing matching kitchen aprons and both Kurt and Finn had to cover their mouths to stifle their laughter. Burt ignored them and cleared his throat politely. “Hello, nice to meet you.”

Blaine and his mother slowly broke apart and Kurt noticed him drag his knuckles over his eyes a few times as he came to lean back against him on the couch. He snaked his arm around his shoulders again, pulling him close, and turned back to watch the exchange between their parents. Mrs. Anderson stood up, straightening her blouse before approaching them and holding out her hand. “Hello, Burt and Carole, right?” They nodded and each of them took a turn shaking her hand. She smiled politely. “I’m Emilia. Cooper’s filled me in a little bit on how helpful you’ve been with taking care of Blaine.”

“Well, he is part of our family,” Burt said and Kurt could hear the touch of anger in his voice that he was clearly struggling to reign in. He shot him a warning look to remind him of their conversation the previous day to keep things civil for Blaine’s sake. Burt softened his tone. “He’s a good kid, we’re happy to help.”

“Well, now that we’re all here I hope everyone’s hungry,” Carole announced.

“We’ll meet you inside,” Kurt responded. They filed into the kitchen, leaving them alone and Blaine let out a long sigh as though he had been holding his breath the entire time. Kurt continued to massage his arm. “You doing okay?”

“I keep expecting to wake up any minute now,” Blaine replied. The undertones of self-conscious anxiety infected his words and contorted his face with worry and doubt. “I expected anything else besides her standing in front of me right now. There were always excuses whenever she promised anything. I can’t believe she’s here.”

Kurt did not know what to say. He patted his arm lightly and spoke quietly, his voice shaky as he tried to fight down the overwhelming sadness he felt towards Blaine right now, “Let’s not keep her waiting then.” He withdrew his arm and stood up, checking the brakes on the wheelchair before leaning over Blaine again. He hooked his arms around Kurt’s neck and closed his eyes as Kurt slowly pulled him into a standing position and paused. Blaine swayed lightly in his arms as he balanced on his good leg and opened his eyes after nearly a minute, “Okay, I’m ready.” Kurt guided him down into the chair and unlocked the brakes.

“Are you happy that she’s here?”

The fact that Blaine had to stop and contemplate the question made Kurt feel like he had already had his answer, but Blaine spoke quietly when they started moving towards the kitchen, “I think so. I don’t know. I’m pretty fucking scared, to be honest.”

Kurt stopped and looked down to see Blaine fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. Somehow, this had been the real answer he was expecting, but it still made him sad to hear Blaine admit it aloud. “Whatever happens, we’re all here for you, Blaine. I know it’s all very,” Kurt hated to use the next word. He hated that every aspect of Blaine’s life seemed to boil down to one four syllable word, including their own dilemma.

“Complicated,” Blaine finished for him.

“Complicated,” Kurt repeated quietly before relocating in front of him and kneeling down. Blaine continued to writhe and twist his hands together, staring down at his lap. It was becoming such a familiar scene these days. Kurt slid his hands along Blaine’s thighs and laced their fingers together, squeezing his hands gently. “We’re here for you every step of the way, okay?” Blaine nodded wordlessly and Kurt leaned forward to kiss his cheek, feeling Blaine leaning into the kiss. Kurt twisted his head and pressed his lips affectionately to Blaine’s, who pulled his hands free and slid his arms around Kurt’s neck as he returned the kiss. It could have lasted ten seconds or ten minutes. Neither of them were sure.

“Are you ready?” Kurt asked breathlessly once they had pulled apart. Blaine closed his eyes and nodded once. Kurt pressed one more delicate, quick kiss against his lips before they went into the kitchen to join everyone else.

Throughout dinner it was easy to see where Blaine and Cooper had picked up their natural ability to charm and effortlessly interact with anyone they met. There had not been one moment of silence as Emilia regaled them all with stories of Blaine and Cooper growing up. She seemed especially eager to hear about Kurt as well, asking all sorts of questions and grinning wildly as Burt had obliged in her requests. Kurt sat beside Blaine, their hands clasped together under the table, and kept shooting glances at him between their bursts of laughter. He looked happy, but still seemed guarded— afraid to let himself get too comfortable in the idea of what was turning out to be an extremely normal family dinner. Emilia sat opposite them at the table and very often brought her gaze to rest on Blaine, the joy in her eyes so apparent Kurt thought there was absolutely no chance it was not genuine. But he also thought back to the number of times Blaine’s house had been an empty wasteland whenever he visited, the way Blaine went out of his way to avoid speaking about both of his parents with such pain and sadness in his request to drop the subject and Kurt had to remind himself to also be wary of her intentions. He had heard her on speakerphone the few days prior saying she would explain everything to Blaine once she had returned. Whatever it was she had prepared to say to him, Kurt hoped it would be just as genuine as the way she was portraying herself to be now. In the middle of one of Emilia’s stories about how Blaine used to put on living room performances when he was six and drag Cooper along as one of his props the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Kurt scooted his chair back. “It’s probably Isabelle.”

With some effort he pulled his hand free from Blaine’s, who seemed to be unconsciously gripping it as though it was a lifeline tethering him down to earth. Kurt kissed his cheek and excused himself to answer the door while Emilia continued her story. When he swung the door open though, it was not Isabelle as he had expected, but Detective Carson. His hair was unruly as ever, loose strands peeking out from beneath his hat, and his expression was serious, yet sincere beneath rosy, windswept cheeks.

“Hello, Kurt. Sorry to interrupt your holiday like this, but this couldn’t wait. Could I come in for a minute?”

Kurt’s brain took a moment to process the request before he stumbled over his words, “Yeah, of course.” He took a step back to allow Detective Carson enough space to step through the doorway and then quietly closed the door behind him. “Does this mean you have news?”

“Not exactly, I’m afraid. I was hoping to speak with Blaine. There was another attack. We were able to get a composite sketch of one of the attackers based off of the victim’s description, I was hoping to see if it’s someone Blaine recognizes so we can figure out if they’re connected in any way.”

“Oh,” Kurt cast an uneasy glance towards the kitchen. “I see. Let me go get him. Please, have a seat.”

As Kurt approached the kitchen the physical atmosphere of the room transformed. The last thing he wanted to do was pull Blaine away from the warmth and joy he had finally been able to find himself in, but he knew Detective Carson was right in his urgency for haste. If these had indeed been the same people who attacked Blaine, it was only a matter of time before someone else came next. He approached Blaine and leaned over to whisper in his ear while the conversation around them continued.

“Detective Carson is here; he was hoping to talk to you.”

To say Blaine was caught completely off guard would have been an understatement. Without even touching him Kurt could tell every muscle in his body had seized up at the thought of having to recount whatever fragmented pieces of the assault he could remember. “I can keep everyone else in here and get Cooper to go with––”

“No, I want you both there,” Blaine rushed out in a frantic whisper.

“Okay,” Kurt placed his hand on his shoulder and straightened up. “Excuse me?” Cooper had stopped talking and everyone looked towards Kurt. “Coop, I need you to come in the other room with us for a minute. Could everyone else please stay here? We’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Everything alright, bud?” Burt asked, the concern heavy on his face. Emilia looked perplexed as she shifted her attention between Blaine and Kurt. Kurt was not sure how much information Blaine wanted to give away and was trying to come up with some sort of excuse for their need for privacy when Blaine suddenly spoke up.

“Detective wants to talk to me again,” he mumbled.

“Sweetie, do you want me to come with you?” Emilia asked.

“No!” Blaine responded a little too loudly, causing her to look taken aback. “No,” he lowered his voice and blindly searched for the levers to unlock the brakes of the wheelchair. Kurt reached down to guide his hands over them, letting Blaine unlock them himself once his hands were in the proper spot. “Please just… just stay here?” Emilia nodded wordlessly, looking extremely unsettled.

“Watch your hands,” Kurt said quietly to Blaine and proceeded to wheel him back away from the table once he had folded his hands onto his lap. Cooper patted his mother’s arm gently and followed them out into the living room where Detective Carson had remained standing, shuffling in place as he passed his hat between his hands.

“Hello again, Blaine. Sorry to bother you all on Thanksgiving like this,” Detective Carson offered his usual sympathetic smile. Kurt positioned the wheelchair to face the couch and took a seat in front of Blaine. Cooper took a seat beside him. Detective Carson remained standing near the front door.

“Kurt said you wanted to talk to me?” Blaine asked apprehensively.

“Yes, there was another boy who was attacked and we’re trying to figure out if it’s connected at all with your case.”

Blaine sat stiffly, his hands clasped tightly together. “How can I help?”

“We have a rough composite sketch based on the victim’s description,” Blaine flinched visibly at the word ‘victim’ and Kurt placed a hand on his knee. “Can you tell me if you recognize the person in this sketch?” Detective Carson pulled out a folded piece of paper from the inside of his jacket and held it out to Blaine, who did not reach for it. Kurt took the paper from him and smoothed it out against his knee before showing it to Blaine. The boy in the sketch had shoulder length, dark stringy hair. His cheeks were sunken in, giving him the skeletal appearance of a corpse. His eyes were dark and unforgiving, he almost looked bored. Scattered across his face was an overabundance of freckles of different shapes and sizes and his thin lips were warped into the ugliest frown Kurt had ever seen. Blaine’s reaction was instantaneous. He inhaled sharply and clamped his eyes shut, turning his head as far away as possible from the sketch.

“Blaine,” Kurt said softly as the muscles and veins in Blaine’s neck became more pronounced. It made Kurt’s neck ache just to watch him overextend himself in such an extreme angle. “Honey, do you recognize him?”

“I do.”

When the sullen, irate voice answered him, Kurt’s head swung with such force there was an audible crack that permeated the silence that soon fell after the quiet confession had been uttered. It was not Blaine that had spoken, but Cooper.

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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 19 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 19 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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Chapter 5: Strangers at the Gathering

The night before the Gathering was due to begin officially, two strange, large ships came up and hove to, about a half mile off from the anchorage. They had arrived during the dark of the moons, and none had noted their coming. With the dawn, none could miss the strangers.

One was a monster by any definition. All visible parts of the ship were jet-black. It was pretty long, but several ships in the Naral fleet were longer. What made it so big was that it had two three hundred foot hulls, with rakish shearwater bows. The hulls were spanned from bows to sterns by a large flat expanse, perhaps two or three decks thick. It was hard to tell at this distance. There was a raised navigation bridge about forty feet back from the bows. For masts it had three pairs of poles that were fastened together at the tops by spacious platforms and possibly a hundred feet tall. They formed ‘A’ frames that spanned the ship from side to side. There were no visible spars and the rigging, though present, seemed sparse.

Its companion was about two hundred and eighty feet long, also with twin hulls, but there, any similarity stopped. Its hulls were unequal in size, the smaller one being fully eighty feet shorter. Both hulls were narrow, almost knife like, and it had three masts, off the center-line of the craft, closer to the larger hull. They seemed far too short.

Small boats were sailing in from the big ships. They were twin hulled as well.

“Those ships are weird, and those little boats are weirder, too. Never seen anything like ‘em,” said a sailor to anybody.

Juris, the Longin’s Master Boat-builder, replied, “Catamarans they’re called. They’ve been played with from time to time. Fast aren’t they? Never heard of making one as a ship, before, let alone two.”

By this time, the two boats were tying up at the floats. Master Juris noted, without saying anything, that they were tied up with quick release knots. Each crew formed a shield around one person from their boat.

From the unequal hulled ship this person was a man of medium height, apparently the Captain. He wore his black hair complexly braided. He had a loose shirt, tied at the waist by tails made for the purpose and snug trousers tucked into wide topped soft boots. His crew wore variations on the theme.

From the larger ship, the individual was a woman whose red-brown hair was worn tied back in a fall. She wore a loose shirt, similar to the other man’s but with a belt of large polished black overlapping scales, each decorated with an inlaid medallion of polished shell. Supported by the belt were a flattish kit and a large but empty knife scabbard at her left hip and a long empty scabbard of strange design at her right. Her loose pants bloused down and tucked into the tops of snug, calf high boots made of glittering green Lesser Sea Dragon hide. A document case of tanned Strong Skin leather under her left arm, the lady simply reached up to one of the bollards the climbing net was secured to and pulled herself up to deck level with her right arm. None of her crew seemed to notice her feat as they swarmed up the net.

The woman spoke to the gawkers in an accent full of lilting overtones, “Where do we find the ones in authority here? We wish to present our credentials.” Some of the people tore their eyes away from the visitor’s outlandish garb and pointed out the Council Pavilion.

Kurin, who was among the curious watchers, turned to Master Juris and said in surprise, “She must be as strong as Cat was. Did you see how she just reached up to the raft rim and pulled herself up one handed until she could sit on the edge?”

“Yes,” he replied. “She had that package of documents in her left hand. It was like she never even gave it a second thought.”

Roper said, “I noticed that all of the others used both hands to get up onto the raft.” He paused and added untactfully, “I thought that Captains were supposed to be picked for brains.”

“Maybe she was,” Kurin shot back. “Not everyone who’s strong is stupid.”

“You’re right,” replied Roper, abashed. “Cat was strong and smart.”

Their men standing guard outside, the two Captains, for such they were, went inside the Council Pavilion. Captain Sarfin of the Dorton, was seated at a writing table working on the agenda of the Council. He was the leader of the Council again this Gathering. He looked up and smiled.

“If you come in peace, then welcome to the Spring Gathering of the Naral fleet.”

Relief flooded the features of the two. The woman spoke first again. “I am Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon, Commander of the Winternight ship Dark Dragon, come from and representing the Corlis fleet. We do seek permission to conduct some business, but mainly, we are seeking information.” She handed her document package to Sarfin, who examined it with interest, and made notes in his ledger.

“I Captain Huld Barsan Soaring Bird of the Barant fleet am,” said the man, speaking clearly but with odd construction. “Also information seeking I am. Opportunity to trade welcome is.”

Catpain Sarfin noted, “I see that your one set of documents is for both ships. That is unusual.”

Sula smiled easily and said, “The Barant fleet is unusual, and the Honored Huld is even more so. The Barant fleet does not set much store on written credentials. The existence of a ship is license enough. From the day that we met, we have been what the Barant fleet call ‘Dragon Bonded.’ Mutual obligations have made our lives inseparable, save by fate. Because of our Dragon Bond, the Corlis fleet issued those credentials.”

“Very sensible,” laughed Sarfin. “Sometime, when I am not so busy, I would like to hear your tale. For now, I will have the Anchorage Master assign your ships to berths close by each other. Permission to trade goes with that. There is a fee of five hundred glue blocks or fifty Strong Skins, or an equal value in other trade goods. Also, you must sign the Gathering’s Log Book.” He proffered a book, opened to a page, and a feather pen. Sula took the pen and examined it, then handed it back.

She produced a writing case from her sash-belt and took out a fine tipped brush and a pen made of springy bone. She inked the brush first and wrote a neat vertical line of strange characters. Then she dipped her pen into the case’s ink well and began writing, neatly, without any blot.

She filled in her ship’s, name, principal officers and nature of her business. At the top of the next page, Huld applied two stamps from his writing kit, selected a brush and signed his ship’s name after one stamp and his own name after the other in unusual characters that Captain Sarfin recognized as written Barant. He put back the brush and took a pen like Sula’s to fill out the rest of the information in Common.

“If there should be a problem in making payment,” said Sarfin, examining the entries with interest, “I am sure that I can get the Council to reduce or waive the fee. After all, you have come half-way around the world to be here.”

Sula smiled, “I think that there will be no problem with payment. The Dark Dragon is a dedicated Predator Hunter. We take Wing Ray, Strong Skin, Moon Flats, Lesser Dragons and Hags. We also take all of the usual fish.”

“I help may need. Cargo luxury is, nor valued yet.”

“Honored One, I shall cover it for you, until the market values your goods,” said Sula pressing her hands together and making a small bow.

“That is settled, then,” said Sarfin. “Now, what information is it that has brought you both so far?”

“We are trying to find the truth of rumors that there was a Great Sea Dragon — Some say Iren and some Mecat — that stayed with a ship of a fleet. So far, all that we have found are rumors. Truly, we are about to give up. We have traveled half around Sea with nothing to show for the trip but some exotic trade goods.”

Grinning broadly, Sarfin said, “Oh, the Dragons are real enough. I saw them myself. However, your best information will come from the crew of the Longin, particularly, their Purser, Alor, their Captain Mord, and especially the young girl Kurin, who keeps a toy booth in the market portion of the rafts.”

Sula and Huld looked at each other in delight.

“We have found them!”

“Here Dragon knowledge!” their voices crossed each other.

Huld added thoughtfully, “Meditate I must on this event when to the Soaring Bird return I.”

“Yes,” Sula added matter-of-factly. “Will you request that one of your Captains carry word to the Corlis fleet when you do?” With a curious small bow to her, Huld replied, “Done it shall be.”

Returning her attention to Captain Sarfin, Sula asked, “Does your custom or law allow my crew to carry their personal sidearms? We normally carry both a large combat knife and a small ax.” She indicated her empty scabbards. “I will guarantee that any of my crew who come the Gathering hooded will not be armed. That will limit their response to any attempt at baring their faces to unarmed combat.”

Captain Sarfin regarded Sula carefully and said, “Why would they fight over something like that?”

As Captain Sula, showing the first trace of nervousness that Captain Sarfin had seen in her, replied, “Winternight regards such an assault as worse than rape. If the hooded Winternighters are armed, the odds are good that they will kill the assailant before they have time to think. To be honest, I am not fully comfortable without my hood and I adopted onto the Dark Dragon at the start of the first Boren Current War.”

Captain Sarfin thought carefully and replied, “It is legal for your people to be armed because such an issue has never come up before. Let your crew know that our law and custom will require a non-lethal and preferably non-injurious response.”

Sula smiled again and bobbed her head. “I can do that. It is the same in our host, the Corlis fleet.”

The far away rattle of a tocsin drum and the exotic, never before heard in the Naral fleet, calls of a bugle or trumpet caused everyone on the rafts or on shipboard to drop what they were doing and watch. Eight large pulling boats came out from between the bows of each ship and picked up cables dropped from bollards at the prows. The big strangers began to move slowly toward their berths on the north side of the anchorage. The drum and horn fell silent except for occasional tiny course corrections.

A spectator on the raft, close to Master Juris said, “They’re so slow that I could have walked that distance, up and down the deck, by now.”

“I’m sure that you could have,” Master Juris smiled. “But pulling two thousand tons might slow you down just a mite. That’s some fine piloting that you’re seeing. They aren’t letting the load get away from them. The real test will come in just a bit, when they pull up to the anchorage floats.”

Kurin joined them. “Sorry that I’m late, but I knew the ships had to be slow and I had some toy customers.”

“What did you sell?” asked the spectator idly.

“One of my loom kits and a rope winder,” said Kurin.

Master Juris turned from watching the ships at that last. “You mean that those things that you made at the suggestion of the fleet’s Craft Council last Gathering are already selling? They’re expensive.”

“They are,” she said, putting her head in her hands in mock frustration. “The Masters are coming to see if I’ve made what they asked me to, back last Gathering. The way they look the toys over is driving me as crazy as a mating paddle duck. They can’t seem to put anything back the way it was. The only consolation is that they return with other people and get them to buy.”

Just then drum and horn sounded, and all else was put aside to see what the strangers would do next. It was unorthodox. The pulling boats, that could now be seen to have a dozen oars each, darted back, between the hulls of each of the two monsters, under the massive decks that bridged them. You could see the lines draw tight as the boats applied all the power at their command to stop the ships. They slowed gradually and stopped — — — exactly at the floats. One boat came out from under each ship, and attached its cable to the float. A second, light line was cast down from above and tied to the end of the cable. Each boat disappeared back between the hulls of the mother ship and did not emerge.

“Neatly done,” said Master Juris, ruffling Kurin’s hair. “These folk are good seamen, whatever else they may be.”

Kurin and Master Juris were not the only ones to watch the strangers come to moorage.

“Luve, Somet’ing’s bot’ering ye. Ye keep lookin’ at t’ose twa new ships,” Tanlin said softly to Barad. Two of the Grandalor’s deck-hands were following her attentively.

“Aye,” said Barad urgently, knowing that they would be overheard. “You have been reading in my bookshelf to familiarize yourself with our way of writing. Think. What ships do they remind you of? They always worked as a pair.”

Tanlin bit a knuckle lightly as she concentrated. “ — But t’e Boren Current Wars were ‘alf t’e world away an Gat'erin’s agone! — Still, t’ose masts are unique. T’ay ‘as t’ be t’e Dark Dragon an’ t’e Soaring Bird! Yer books say t’at t’ey ‘ave sunk more t’an t’irty ships in t’ose wars. W’at are t’ey doin’ ‘ere, Oi wonder?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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Return to World of Sea

#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 19 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can (17/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Everyone enjoying all of these post-season games? Even if your team has already lost like mine 🙈 Anyways, we’re back in London for one more chapter here and @resident-of-storybrooke is still the mvp for reading all of these words.

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings

-/-

Emma can feel Killian’s nose nudging between her shoulder blades, his scruff scratching at her skin, and as good as it feels, she can’t help but curl further into her pillow and bring her knees up to her stomach, hoping that he’ll leave her alone so that she can sleep longer. So much longer. Jet-lag is a bitch, and she just wants to sleep forever. They don’t even get a day off when they get home, and just thinking about it has her dying.

Why in the world did she get sent over here when she’s only writing an article and doing social media stuff? Jeff should have come with her, Ruby too, but right now, she can’t really complain.

This bed is really soft.

London is wonderful.

Killian smells really good right now. He shouldn’t smell this good this early in the morning, and he probably got up to brush his teeth and put cologne on or something stupidly wonderful like that.

But she’s tired, and all she really wants is to sleep some more and for the pleasant ache between her thighs to lessen a bit so she won’t be thinking about it all day long. It’s a wonderful memory to have to think about as her day goes on, but still, a girl has got to be able to walk without her mind going to weird places.

The new phase of a relationship is so damn fun.

Sighing, she hugs her pillow more closely and keeps her eyes shut only for Killian to place the softest kiss in existence on the back of her neck that has the shiver multiplying its intensity by ten with each new vertebra that it reaches.

“Did you know that you are a kicker in your sleep?” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gravely like it always is in the mornings. She really likes that. Like, really. “And that you are also a heat seeker, and I am in no way safe from your assault.”

“That sounds like a hard life,” Emma mumbles, still not bothering to open her eyes.

“The hardest. Do you know that we’ve only ever spent the night together in hotels? You’ve never even seen my bedroom. We somehow have never made it past the living room.”

“You’ve never seen mine.”

“True,” he sighs as his hand inches over her waist so that his nails can run over her stomach, making the muscles flutter. Or maybe those are the damn metaphorical butterflies. It doesn’t matter. “We should remedy that when we get home.” Home.

He means New York. He doesn’t mean his apartment or her apartment. He simply means the city they both happen to live in, but knowing that doesn’t change the way her heart is hammering in her chest, that residual feeling of being terrified that this is all going to blow up in her face still lingering. It’s not there as much as it used to be, some of the fear tampering down the more comfortable she becomes with Killian, but as old ones fade away, new ones emerge like one of those creepy aliens in movies.

Killian isn’t like Walsh or Neal or any of the people who have hurt her. Anyone with half-functioning eyes could see that, and it’s reaffirmed in how he supports her every day. He sends her articles she’s written in the past with little notes attached to them on what he thinks. Sometimes he shares links to YouTube videos of her interviews, asking her how she noticed the strategy they employed to win that day or simply complimenting her on thinking on her feet when she gets put in a tough situation. The only people who could possibly support her more are Ruth and David, but Killian is very much inching up to the top of the Emma Swan fan club.

He’d probably make t-shirts. Several. And wear them under all of his clothes, the dork.

Dark and broody but also dorky. That’s how she’d describe him if she had to in three words or less.

So she’s not worried that he’s going to demean her or belittle her or make her feel unworthy like she has felt in the past, but there are so many other ways for him to hurt her. Their relationship getting out, for one, could destroy her professional credibility, at least for a little while. That’s something she thinks about every time she sneaks out of her hotel room and into his. It’s ridiculous hard to find a time when someone isn’t in the hallway. But what if he’s secretly shitty in some kind of other way? What if he doesn’t continue to be so open and honest with her? What if he realizes that her hang-ups are too complicated? What if he realizes that he doesn’t want to be patient with her when she does have her freak outs? He’s so damn patient with her, always waiting for her to make the move before he does, and there’s no guarantee he won’t get tired of that.

Why is this the morning that she thinks about this?

Probably because the reality of them telling their friends and family is hitting her. It was her idea, the guilt of lying to everyone overwhelming her, but now the actuality is overwhelming her even more.

Last night, she told Killian that she would go to Addy’s birthday party under this insane plan that he has of them fake running into each other in the hallway, and the reality of meeting his family is kind of freaking her out. She’s never met a boyfriend’s family before, which was always such a blessing, and now she’s invading Killian’s niece’s birthday party.

Where his brother, who he absolutely admires in every way, will be, along with his wife and their kids and all of these other people who are important to Killian.

Emma wants to run. She knows that she does. Feelings overwhelm her, the feelings she has for Killian most of all, but she thinks she’d rather be overwhelmed by the happiness that he helps her feel rather than the anxiety.

The new phase of a relationship is fun but also terrifying.

“Are you inviting me over for a sleepover?” she finally asks, hoping that Killian can’t tell that she’s freaking out a little bit.

Killian hums into her neck, and she finally opens her eyes, the brightness of the sun shining through the curtains blurring everything for a moment. “I am. I can get you all kinds of snacks. We’ll wear our best pajamas, watch movies, play truth or dare, maybe have a pillow fight or two.”

“Do you get all of your sleepover knowledge from 2000s rom coms?”

“Possibly.”

Emma chuckles before turning on the mattress, shifting into Killian’s space like he shifted into hers, and when she’s turned in his arms, she blinks at him, taking in the unshaven scruff and unruly hair that most definitely hasn’t been tamed. She likes that too. His hair is always doing different things, and she can’t decide what she likes best.

“You very obviously did,” Emma sighs, running her hands over the muscled curves of his biceps, “but that’s okay. That’s where all of my knowledge came from too. The closest I’ve ever gotten to one that’s not, like, a sexual thing is when Ruby and I room together on road games.”

“I don’t think that counts because then Robin, Will, and I have had a ton of sleepovers, and none of them involve any of the fun things I was talking about before.” He reaches up to cover her hand with his before leaning in and lazily moving his lips against hers. There are a lot of things she’s learning at twenty-seven, and one of them is most definitely how much she likes lazy morning make out sessions. They’re definitely one of the seven wonders of the world. “And who said there was going to be nothing sexual about our sleepover? I was definitely planning at least a little something.”

Her nose scrunches up, and Killian moves to gently bite it, making her laugh. “We can have something sexual happen, but only if it’s during truth or dare. No funny business otherwise, mister.”

His lips part like he’s going to say something, and she runs her hand up and down his arm as she waits. But then he blinks one long, slow blink and shuts his mouth, whatever words he was going to say curling back on his tongue.

“What?” she questions, moving her leg against his.

“Nothing,” Killian smiles, pressing forward to run his lips over hers again, making her toes curl from the way that he knows just what to do in a kiss to make her happy. “I was simply thinking of this sleepover we’re going to have, and how I need to buy some better pajamas for it. I can’t have you seeing me in anything less than decent.”

“You’re not wearing any clothes right now.”

“And I’ve yet to hear a complaint from you about that, so I think this may be decent attire.”

“Well then,” she sighs, slowly running her foot up his calf again and watching his eyes darken, “I think it’ll be perfectly fine attire then too.”

-/-

This is stupid.

This is so, so stupid. She can’t believe she’s doing this. It’s ridiculous. The most ridiculous thing in the entire world. Okay, maybe not in the entire world, but she’s feeling extra dramatic right now.

The most dramatic, and that’s not an exaggeration.

Killian told her to meet him in the hallway where all of the suites in the stadium are located, and she’s been standing her for fifteen minutes pretending to look at her phone instead of actually looking at her phone and answering emails or something. Or checking stats for the game. She should be doing that, but they’re still in the top of the first inning, and she’s pretty sure this is going to be the game that never ends.

Ever.

And she’ll be stuck in this hallway in London for the rest of her life and die in the yellow maxi dress that she spent thirty minutes picking out because she had no idea what to wear to her secret boyfriend’s niece’s tea party birthday. She’d also debated on going out and getting a gift despite their conversation last night, but then she’d reminded herself that she’s not technically planning on coming to this thing. It’s some kind of fake spur of the moment thing, and bringing a gift would ruin that.

She needs to calm down.

This is fine.

A set of doors to her left open, and she sees Killian walk through. She’s so used to seeing him dressed in his uniform or sweatpants and some kind of team-branded t-shirt when they’re in a baseball stadium that it throws her off when she sees him in tight-fighting blue jeans with a light blue button down tucked in, the sleeves rolled up and several buttons at the top undone so that she can see little tufts of black hair and the silver chain that he wears to keep his mom’s ring next to his heart.

Athletes have all kinds of traditions and superstitions for every part of their life, but her favorite is that Killian keeps that ring on him at all times.

“Hello, kind acquaintance,” he teases when he sees her, eyes darting around the hallway while he steps closer, “funny running into you here looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress. I’d say it’s perfect for a tea party.”

“You are ridiculous.” “You have got to stop saying that about me like it’s new information.” Killian steps up to her then, looking around once more before quickly dipping his head to kiss her while grabbing her ass like they didn’t just see each other two hours ago when she finally left his room. “You do look just beautiful, though. Sometimes I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Heat immediately rises to her cheeks, but she tries to shake it and the butterflies in her stomach off. “I ask myself the same thing about you all the time.”

Killian rolls his eyes at her before holding his arm out. “You ready to go?”

Her eyes glance down at his elbow before looking back up at him. “Why are you holding your arm like that?”

“Because it’s proper to escort a lady to an event by giving her your arm when you walk, and I like to do proper by such a lady.”

“Killian,” she protests even as her heart absolutely hammers in his chest, “we can’t do that. There are people.”

“There’s no one. Indulge me for sixty seconds, okay?”

Maybe it’s that she’s feeling overwhelmed and like taking a risk or maybe it’s the way that he smiles, but something about him has her taking his arm and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk down the hallway until they’re at the double doors of the suite.

“It’s going to be fine, Swan,” Killian promises, squeezing her hand before letting go and pushing the door open so that the sounds of children excitedly talking fill their ears and her eyes take in all of the people in the room.

It’s not many, less than are usually in a big suite, but she can see at least fifteen kids, most of them children of players, and maybe ten other adults. That doesn’t seem like the right ratio, but these kids are old enough to be semi self-sufficient about most things. Everything is fine. She’s just nervous, which only gets worse when Killian’s niece spots them.

“Uncle Killian,” Addison screeches, stopping where she is and running toward the two of them in her blue dress. Killian immediately crouches down to her level, opening his arms to her and taking her into the tightest embrace before lifting her off of the ground while Addison nuzzles into his shoulder.

It may very well be the cutest and most heart-warming thing she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Happy birthday, my little love,” he sighs, swaying her as they stand. “How are you six years old? I’m pretty sure you’re still supposed to be a baby.”

“I’m too big to be a baby. Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t be silly?” he guffaws, pulling back and adjusting his grip on Addison. “Darling, I am always silly, but so are you. You’re basically the silliest goose.”

Addison scrunches up her nose, and Emma can see Killian in her there. It might be the dimples or the blue of her eyes, but Emma can see something even though both of Killian’s nieces look exactly like their mom. She is not weird at all for noticing these things. “We have talked about this. I am not a silly goose. I am a girl.”

“Geese can be girls.”

“Did you bring me a present?”

“A present?” Killian gasps, tickling Addison’s sides so that she giggles. “Am I supposed to bring you a present? No one told me.”

“But it’s my birthday,” she pouts.

“Did you bring me a present on my birthday? I don’t remember.”

“Yes,” Addison groans, holding her head back. “I drew you a picture of us.”

“Oh, that’s right, that’s right,” Killian sighs, glancing to the side and winking at Emma, which definitely doesn’t do something weird to her heart. “You did. I have it framed on my bookshelf because I love it so much. I do have a present for you, but your mom and dad told me that I had to leave it at home so you can’t open it until you get back to America.”

“What is it?” she gasps, not at all deterred by the fact that she can’t open her present yet.

“Addy,” a male voice sighs, and Emma turns her head to the side to see Killian’s brother standing near them, and that definitely does something to her heart, “remember what we talked about? You have to be patient.”

“But I’m excited!” Killian puts her on the ground so that she’s no longer at eye-level with all of them, but her confidence might as well make her six feet tall. “Where’s Lucy? I don’t see her.”

“She’s sitting with Mommy. Why don’t you go find them while I talk to Killian and Ms. Emma here?”

That’s when Addison’s attention turns to her, and suddenly she feels like more eyes are on her than when she’s on television.

Is she terrified of a six-year-old? No, that would be ridiculous.

(Also, Killian’s brother knows her name, and while that’s not weird, she feels like it is. Then again, she knows his entire family.)

“Who are you?” she questions, her hands on her hips and eyes focused.

Emma plasters a smile on her face, one that was already there even if she didn’t realize it, before squatting down so that she’s eye-to-eye with Addison.

“Hi, Addison. My name is Emma. I work with your uncle.”

“Are you a baseball player?”

“No,” Emma laughs, and she looks up at Killian when she hears him chuckle. He simply shrugs his shoulders and waggles his brows across his forehead. “I wish I was, but I work on TV. You know those people who ask Killian all kinds of questions?”

“That’s you?”

“That’s me.”

Addison smiles, the teeth she has missing obvious, before she steps a little closer to Emma and touches her dress, running her fingers over the material. “I like your dress. It kind of looks like a princess dress. Are you going to stay for my party?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do. Do you want to come and look at my cake with me? It’s shaped like a unicorn.”

“Sure, sweetie,” she answers, smiling at Addison and taking her hand as she’s dragged off to the other side of the room, leaving Killian and Liam behind.

For the next hour, her best friend in the world is Addy Jones, who very much takes Emma under her wings as she shows her around the suite and introduces her to all of her friends. The only real experience Emma has with kids is Leo, and the four-year difference between six and ten is kind of insane, but it’s not hard to adjust and talk about all of the right things. It gets a little more difficult when she meets Lucy, if only because Lucy is one reserved little girl, but Emma notices that she very easily follows in Addy’s footsteps and has her own little personality, even if it’s quieter.

Lucy Jones also very much loves her uncle, and it makes Emma’s heart do that funny stuttering thing every time she looks up and sees Lucy sitting with Killian as he animatedly talks to her and makes her laugh with this little high-pitched squeal. She’s always known how much Killian loves his nieces from how he talks about them and how he has pictures of them in his apartment and on his social media, but seeing it in person is this whole new thing. He’s in his element, even more than he is when he’s on a baseball field like the one just outside, and this smile that’s been with her most of today continues to increase, the corners of her lips constantly ticking up whenever she thinks about him.

Which is a lot.

Probably more than a normal amount, and she just loves him so damn much that…

Holy shit.

She loves him.

Why is she realizing that right now as she sits at a table with people she doesn’t really even know while she watches him very obviously stick his pinky out while drinking tea teaching Lucy to do the same?

How in the world did this happen?

And is she terrified or so incredibly excited that it feels a lot like the fear that’s been weaving in and out of her days lately?

Does he love her too? Can he? She thinks that he can, that he does, but how is she ever supposed to know for sure? It’s been a good while since she actually felt this way, and she’s not sure that she trusts her heart to realize the difference.

“It’s Emma, right?”

Emma looks up from her seat to see Elsa Jones standing above her, blonde hair pulled back into a complicated braid and soft smile painted across her lips.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me,” Emma stutters, holding out her hand to shake Elsa’s. “Elsa?”

“The one and only. Well, kind of,” she laughs before pulling out the empty chair next to Emma and sitting down. “It’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I know you from your job.”

“Funny, I feel like I know you.”

Okay, so that’s probably pretty creepy. Was that creepy?

Before Emma can think about it too much, Elsa laughs, something that sounds genuine, and Emma has to remind herself that this is just another person who she knows is kind. There’s nothing to be afraid of. She talks to people for a living.

“I would bet. Killian talks far too much, so you get a lot of information out of him when you’re likely just looking to talk about the game. I really liked the special you did at the beginning of the season. It felt very much like him as a person, which I’m always so happy to see.”

“He’s a great subject. It’s not easy getting a lot of these guys to be charming and funny about things other than baseball, so I love when I find one that knows how to open up. And he’s so good with your daughters. I hope I’m not intruding on your day, but Killian – ”

“Found you wandering the halls and dragged you along?” Emma arches her brow, but Elsa simply waves her away, shaking her head from side to side as she glances out the windows to the game that Emma is only half paying attention to even though it’s her job. “Liam told me. You’re not intruding at all. Addy has gone on and on about her pretty new friend Emma, and any friend of my girl is a friend of mine. Plus, we Joneses owe you about a million apologizes for my dumbass brother-in-law asking you out.”

She has to cover her mouth with her hand as she laughs, a snort escaping her before she can stop it. “Did you guys give him hell for that? I feel like he does deserve it.”

“Oh, most definitely. Killian is not a super spontaneous guy, especially when it comes to women, not anymore at least, so I’m not entirely convinced someone didn’t spike his water bottle. I actually choked on my own water bottle when I saw it happening, so I gave him hell for that too.”

“Good, but I’ve forgiven him as long as he never does something like that again. Our working relationship is much better now because he can basically never say no when I want an interview.”

“True,” she says, her smile somehow brighter. “You’ve got to use those kinds of things in your favor. I do it with Liam all the time. It works like a charm.”

“What does?” Liam asks as he steps up to them.

“Hi, sweetie,” Elsa greets him, tilting her head back so that Liam can kiss her. “Have you met Emma?”

“I did when she came in, but I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her before Addy dragged her away. So, it’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. I was telling Elsa that it’s good to put real faces to names I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard a lot about us?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” she mumbles, internally cursing herself again. “Work and all. I know far too much about the lives of all of the players, which is both a good and bad thing.”

“I would bet. Do you know about – ”

“Yesterday?” she asks. Liam nods his head, his smile tightened. “Yeah, I know. It was shitty, but it happens. And I’m glad Will and Killian and some of the other guys stood up for me like that, even if Killian was an idiot for messing up his hand. But I feel like I’m part of the team sometimes, and it’s nice to know they have my back.”

“Emma,” Addy squeals as she runs toward the three of them, completely ignoring her parents, “Killian said to come and get you to ask if you wanted to join our tea party. He says that you don’t know how to drink tea, and I have to help you.”

Her eyes immediately glance over to Killian, and when he moves his brow across his forehead, laughter bubbles inside of her stomach and her mouth falls into a soft smile. The ridiculous fool.

“You know what, Addy,” she sighs, “I don’t think I know how to drink tea. You and Lucy will have to teach me, okay?”

“I know. Come on.” Addison tugs at her arm until she rises from her chair, excusing herself to Liam and Elsa before she’s dragged across the room and over to the table where all of Addison’s friends and Killian are eat snacks and drinking tea, which looks a lot more like orange juice, and Emma is told to sit down in the chair next to Killian who is holding Lucy’s goldfish snacks while she inspects all of them. “Uncle Killian, I brought Emma over. Emma, do you want orange tea or apple tea?”

“Um, orange tea.”

Addy nods her head before she’s running off to the other side of the table and leaving Emma with Killian and Lucy.

“So, you need to teach me how to drink tea then?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he attempts to flip the hair that’s fallen over his forehead back. “My brother and sister-in-law had cornered you, and I thought you might need a little saving. I knew that you were a little nervous about meeting them.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“I do not, you as – jerk,’” she corrects, stopping herself when Lucy looks up at her. “Hi, sweetheart. I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly, sweetly. “It’s yellow. Yours is yellow.”

“I know. We’re basically twins. Are you going to eat your goldfish?”

Lucy softly smiles, little blonde curls falling in her face, before picking up a handful of her snacks from Killian and offering them over to Emma in a sweet gesture that definitely rivals everything romantic that her uncle has ever done.

“Thank you, Lucy.” Emma pops one into her mouth only to look up at Killian and see that his eyes are crinkled, those little lines showing up, and her stomach pleasantly twists at the sight of it. She realized that she loved him less than twenty minutes ago, and there are still a lot of crazy feelings processing in her brain right now. A lot. “Do you want some, twenty-nine?”

Killian blinks, almost like he doesn’t recognize her nickname for him, before reaching over and taking some of the fish that she’s offering him. It’s cheesy and very romance novel-ish, but she swears that she feels sparks when his fingers brush over the palm of her hands.

“Thank you, love.”

“I have your orange team, Emma,” Addy shouts as she comes back to them, balancing a far too full plastic cup of orange juice that spills a little on the carpet until Emma takes it from Addy’s hand.

“Well, thank you, Addy. But it’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be helping you do something instead of you handing me my tea?”

Addy hums at this, her forefinger tapping against her chin while her foot taps on the ground. “You can help me open my presents later, okay?”

“That sounds like a deal.”

-/-

“Working hard or hardly working?”

Emma pulls the headphones from her ears so that she can hear Killian better, even though she could most definitely hear the cheesy phrase that just came out of his mouth. His family is flying back on the team plane, as are all of the other players’ families, and since she is Addison Jones’s new favorite person as of seven hours ago, she was asked to sit with all of the Jones clan, which has really just been her sitting in a seat by the window with Addy and Lucy switching seats until the both of them were corralled by their parents to go to sleep. And now she’s got Killian sitting next to her, which is what she was hoping for but isn’t the most subtle thing in the world.

They are not subtle people even when they probably think they are.

She’d never make it in federal law enforcement or something like that.

“My deadline is in an hour, and I had to pay twenty-seven dollars for WiFi so that I could send it in.”

“So, working hard?”

“Yep.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” she protests, reaching down to take another sip of her coffee. Her jet-lag is going to be even worse of a bitch tomorrow. “You can stay. I just have to check my stat facts, and then I’ll be finished. It’s kind of hard to work when everyone else is asleep and it’s so dark in here, so, you know, I’m drinking all of the caffeine to stay awake. I think I have a food baby made of unicorn cake.”

“Aye, me too,” he laughs as he pats his stomach. “That was too much sugar.”

“No such thing.”

“Oh, but there is, darling.” His hand brushes over her forearm, and she can see the slight scabs and marks from him punching Arthur yesterday. Nothing new has been said, no suspensions mentioned, and she hopes that it stays that way. She also hopes that nothing like that ever happens again.

“How does your hand feel?”

“A little sore, but I’m right as rain. It’s a good thing I have several days off, yeah?”

Emma groans, shutting her eyes just at the thought of getting up to work tomorrow like most people on this plane except for Killian and Robin. “Don’t remind me. I’m going to look like a zombie tomorrow, and feel even worse than that. If I ever go overseas again, it’s going to be for long enough to adjust to the time.”

“You and me both,” he yawns, and she’s totally endeared by the way his face contorts there only for him to smile at her with a tired, boyish grin that she’s endeared by even more. “Finish up your article, my love, and then I say that you at least try to go to sleep.”

“Always looking out for me.”

“You know it.”

Her hand reaches over his scarred one so that she can squeeze it, which is all she can really do right now. But honestly, being right here next to him simply sitting together after all of the craziness of these few days – baseball, meeting her boyfriend’s family, asshole players getting punched, quick tours of London that went by in a blur, and realizing that she loves Killian – is more than enough when it’s already absolutely everything.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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heechulhamster · 6 years ago

Text

The Truth You Can’t Hide IV

KIM JUNMYEON (SUHO) x Fem Reader

Chapter 4 [The Truth You Can’t Hide MASTERLIST]

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 ongoing

You did it so well for six years. You’ve hid your son from the biggest threat of his life. But one mishap led to the biggest secret in your life being face to face with the man you’ve kept him away from all these years - his father.

Mafia!AU, Angst.

Each muscle of your feet started to ache as the clock struck eight, the current case the law firm you worked as a paralegal in required you to go overtime. You’ve had an internal agreement with yourself to stay in the firm and distance yourself from Junmyeon’s line of work, as you know that his two separate businesses will always coincide with the other - and you wouldn’t want both of Jaejin’s parents to have an indecent track record.

Only a few lights are lit at this time of the night, most of your officemates already in the comforts of their own home and family. An empty sigh of exhaustion escaped your lips as you sat back on your chair, freeing your feet from the tormenting heels before neatly stacking and organizing the paperwork left on your table. Organizing the case files by urgency as you plan to get your hands on it eagerly the first thing tomorrow.

“Did Mr. Goo request you on overtime again? You should take a rest.” A sudden voice spoke behind you, making you turn around. You see Atty. Zhang, one of the associate lawyers in the firm. His cripst white dress shirt neatly tucked in his black pants as he leaned over the table next to yours.

“No, Sir. I did it voluntarily. I’m really absorbed on this recent case.” You said with a light chuckle, trying your best to hide your fatigue from the day.

You heard him take light footsteps on the way closer to your desk, eventually you saw Atty. Zhang’s hands over the pile of paperwork on your desk. “Is this the one regarding the sexual harrasment case of that actor…” He snapped his fingers three times, apparently thinking about the name that’s on the tip of his tongue. “Seojoon? Bang Seo Joon?”

“Yes, I’ve been re-reading his sworn statements and the victim’s.” You stated as he read through the pages of the case file.

“This file’s been through a lot.” He said, smiling over the littered highlights and notations you’ve made all throughout the paper. “Now tell me if there’s anything you’ve found. Are we on the losing end here?”

“There has been inconsistencies with the victim’s sworn statements. Like how she said that Mr. Bang and her met around dinner at that Monday, but she has also stated that her shift as a waitress ends at closing time. She had once said that he went on a date with Mr. Bang on a Tuesday the week prior, so both Monday and Tuesday couldn’t have been her off days. And the timeline of the alleged harassment doesn’t quite add up. There’s a lot of lapses here and there.”

“You’ve really put your mind on this haven’t you? I’m impressed. Poor SeoJoon must’ve been framed.” He said smiling at you, the wells of his cheeks showing as adorable dimples as he shone his bright teeth in amazement. “But you need to rest for now, the case can wait for another day, don’t you think?”

“I’m actually on my way out.” You explained as your hands tidied your desk a bit more, putting the scattered pens and pencils back on the green holder just on the corner of the black modern table.

“I’ll come with you, then.” Mr. Zhang said with a hearty smile.

Your way down the building was filled with short talks, including of which where he asked you to plainly call him Yixing as the both of you are in the same age. It would be an understatement to describe him as attractive, he’s magnetic - naturally absorbing every attention and respect by everyone graced by his presence. Yet oddly humble despite being aware of his huge presence. Yixing know how enticing he is, yet he doesn’t impose the fact on anyone. Just letting his trait speak for itself.

“Where are you parked?” He asked, suddenly rising from your shared laughters as you both walk out of the building.

“I take a cab to work.” You answered simply as a matter of fact.

“Are you serious?” Yixing responded in shock, “Do they really pay paralegals that low here?”

“No, it’s just that I haven’t had time yet to renew my license and fix papers for a new car, you know. It’s a hassle.” You explained.

“Lucky you tonight, “cause I’m morally obliged to give you a ride.” He said lightheartedly, his chuckle low and baritone that it just lingers in your ear.

“You don’t need to.” You waved your hands to accentuate your declination, yet the smile on his eyes told you that he’s insisting.

“Who told you I’m taking no for an answer?” And with his bright smile emphasised with his charming dimples, you wouldn’t even dare to say no.

Only a few minutes in the ride, your phone flashed with a text from Junmyeon. Reading that he and Jaejin are out for dinner in a nearby restaurant and that as per your son’s request, both of them are waiting for you.

“You know that Japanese restaurant near the station?” You asked Yixing, to which he answered a simple yes. “Can you drop me off there instead? Someone just texted and I’ll be meeting them there.”

“Sure thing.” He responded with a chuckle, which stirred a confused look from you on the shotgun seat. “I almost thought you’d ask me out for dinner there.”

His implication made you blush, something that you haven’t experienced for a while. “I’m sorry to get your hopes up.” You said with a chuckle rhyming his.

“Too bad for me, I guess.” Another few laughters was all that you shared while he drove silently. Not yet developing a dynamic beyond being coworkers resulted in an odd silent tension between the two of you. As if feeling that both parties want to speak yet not finding the courage to do so.

“How long have you been working in the firm again?” Yixing spoke, finally ending the tormenting ill-at-ease silence.

“Barely three months.” You answered as-a-matter-of-fact.

“That’s odd.” He simply remarked, sensing a sheer curiosity on the tone of his voice. You expressed a simple hum in the guise of an inquiry. “I mean, three months yet as far as I remember this is the first time we talked properly. Aside from you asking me for staples, of course.”

The growing blush on your cheeks finally bloomed when he spoke of that incident. It was the early weeks of your job in the firm, hardly even familiar to everyone in the workplace. Marking probably the first time you noted of Yixing’s existence, his youthful appearance made you think he was just one of the interns or a paralegal. Atty. Goo was a man who values his time, one that is always in a rush that’s why being assigned in his team challenged you. That day, you were running late for work - your cousin who was supposed to take care of Jaejin was a quarter of an hour late arriving at your home. You carried the files, or bundles of paper which aren’t stapled to Atty. Goo’s liking just yet. That’s when you came across him, carrying his leather suitcase and a cup of coffee, just when panic started to kick in.

“Uhm.. Hi!” You waved your right hand as your left hand tightly gripped the bunches of papers, your feet dashing in front of him. “I’m new here, as much as I would like to do a proper introduction Mr. Goo needs these papers almost five minutes ago, so could you be my savior and lend me some staples?” You tried to flash your sweetest smile, maybe charming people would still work.

“Hold a second.” He answered with his pearly white, magazine cover teeth showed. Probably laughing at how ridiculous you look for your new job. He put down his still steaming cup of coffee on the table nearest to the both of you, before scanning his bag for the said tool. Retrieving a few staple pins in his bag a few seconds later. “This enough?”

“Yes! Thank you so much!” You rushed and not-so-carefully put the pages of case files and statements on the same table. Loading your stapler with the pins and organizing the pages by its groups.

The moment you finished the dreaded task, the striking man was long gone by your side. And you quickly rushed to Atty. Goo’s room, politely apologizing for the delay as you laid down the papers at his desk.

It was later that day that you discovered that the man you ambushed for staples earlier was no intern, nor a paralegal. Just outside Atty. Goo’s room, you saw the office that has been unoccupied for the first few days you’ve been there at the firm. They said that Atty. Zhang was back at China for personal reasons. And now he’s obviously back, and missing a few staple pins in his arsenal.

“Don’t bring that back! Please.” You covered your face from his sight with your left hand in embarrassment. “It was so awkward for me to talk to you afterwards.”

“It wasn’t a big deal, really. I found it oddly adorable, even.” Yixing noted. “I mean, I don’t look that old enough to be one of the lawyers, don’t I?” He said, a notion of cockiness evident in his statement.

And he was just being truthful, the firm was filled by tenured and accomplished lawyers already in their 50’s. It was a shock to learn that he was among them. A tall, singularly handsome and well versed young lawyer already making his mark in the city.

“This is the place, isn’t it?” He pointed to the right, a remarkably cosmopolitan Japanese restaurant in the wealthiest areas of Seoul. “Are you going on a date? This seems to be too extravagant for a simple dinner. Expensive taste.”

“It’s not a date. Easy to say that this person I’m meeting is a little bit too loaded in their bank account.” You said lightheartedly, to which Yixing also responded with a light laughter. “Thanks for the ride, Yixing.”

Before your hand even opened the door, he was able to hold you back by speaking again. “I was wondering if I could keep my hopes up and actually take you out for dinner some time.”

Your eyes almost widened at his indication. “Is this dinner in line of work or…”

“A date? Most preferably so.” He answered as his fingers lightly played with the steering wheel, signifying uneasiness or even nervousness.

“Oh.”

“Does that oh means you acknowledge my statement or does it indicate that you’re declining the proposal?” Yixing’s choice of words made you feel like a defendant in inquisition.

“It meant that oh, I didn’t expect to be in the receiving end of such proposal. But I’ll keep the offer in mind.” You playfully reciprocated his legalese tone.

“How long would the processing take?” Yixing asked back.

“Three working days.”

“Noted, see you on Friday?” He replied, understanding what you meant quicker than lightning. He flashed his charmingly irresistible smile yet again that made you flash one in return.

“See you, Atty. Zhang.”

The dinner was spent with Jaejin’s juvenile astonishment over the fact that fish can be eaten raw. Despite the fact that you haven’t allowed him to eat sashimi just yet, he was already looking forward on the day you’ll let him do so, settling on a good bowl of traditional and expensive ramen. And it’s in these times that you realize how close the two have gotten. How Jaejin and Junmyeon would share inside jokes that would leave you wondering on your own. The fact that the two already have bonded this tight relationship between the two of them that no one can penetrate. And that’s still in spite of Jaejin’s lack of knowledge regarding who Junmyeon really is in his life.

And you’d be lying if you don’t admit to yourself that your life has been easier with Junmyeon in it again. You don’t even have to work the long hours just to make sure that you’ll be able to save enough money for Jaejin’s future while still making all ends meet. Junmyeon already opened a trust fund under your son’s name. The hassle of looking for someone to take care of him while at work was now long gone, with Jaejin having his own sitters that Junmyeon grew up with himself. He was already taking the majority of the parental roles even before he was formally introduced as his father.

“Goodnight, Mama. I love you.” Jaejin declared with a youthful smile on his face just after he finished his nightly prayer. To which you answered the same sentiments before kissing his forehead and eventually walking out of the room.

It was agreed upon you and Junmyeon for you to take the guest room. As Jaejin is now old enough to sleep on his own. And your habitual over time at work could cause a sense of discomfort to Jaejin if he’s still dependent at your presence for sleep.

You were stunned to see Junmyeon standing outside Jaejin’s room after you shut the door. “Oh, Hi.”

“Hey.” He answered thriftily. A few seconds have passed and nobody dared to talk, and all you were able to muster was raising your eyebrows.

“Who were you with earlier?” Junmyeon asked curiously.

“Huh? What?” You didn’t quite catch what he was pertaining to.

“Who dropped you off earlier? I recognized that a Tesla was too extra to be just a cab.” You tried to sense any hint of emotion in his voice yet it just came off as a casual question.

“Oh, it was someone from work.” You started walking, your steps rhyming with the cadence of his feet.

“Workmate or… you know, someone.” He stalled, and you understand the connotation.

“Workmate that kind of just expressed that he wanted to take me out on a date. Kinda.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as you remember that Yixing, an eligible bachelor as one could get, has just asked you out on a date.

“So.. are you going?” Junmyeon’s eyes shrunk in curiosity.

“Yeah. I mean he’s nice, undoubtedly attractive. Would be dumb to not give him a shot don’t you think?” You replied, still wearing a smile on your face.

“I mean, you look excited. So I guess why not.” Junmyeon smiled back, but something in your guts just told you that it was visibly forced.

“We wouldn’t have a problem with us having relationships right?” You tested the waters, as this relationship - cohabitation, coparenting, or whatever the two of you shared surely need to be clarified with bounds soon.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries. We could go both live our lives, of course with Jaejin as priority.”

“Of course. Another thing, I don’t think this would last much anyway. He doesn’t know yet that I have a son, whatever this is would probably end once he knows. I’ll just consider it as a dry run whether or not I still have it in me to be something for someone.” You continued as both of you approached the hallway where you would eventually part ways.

“If he does that, it means he’s an asshole. And it will be his loss, his great loss.” Junmyeon smiled briefly and noticeably faint.

You cleaned your hands on the apron that hung on your neck, dusting its material with a good amount of flour. Finally lining the pan with butter before pouring in the mix and eventually letting nature do its thing once you put it inside the preheated oven. Sitting on the chair at the kitchen island and a lonesome red juicy apple in hand, you just let yourself to detach from reality as you relaxed. The piling paperwork slowly creeping up your sanity, and your only solace was Jaejin’s hugs at night - and maybe the few jubilant smiles that you and Yixing share at work.

The past two days saw a rise of interactions between the two of you. Earlier, he even dropped by your desk to give a thoughtful warm cup of coffee when he saw you taking piles of papers head on. And Yixing’s brand new presence is your life is refreshing. To relinquish that juvenile feeling of excitement is a good thing to feel every once in a while, and for you it’s really been a while.

“How’s parent life with ex holding up?” Your quiet thoughts were invaded by a man who you didn’t notice sit in front of you.

“Minseok. I didn’t see you there.” You said, your widened eyes by shock looking at his feline features.

“I could tell, pretty sure that apple’s gone dizzy from rolling over your hands too much.” He joked, where you answered a laugh to. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How’s things?”

“Well, obviously a lot has changed since you’ve last seen me.” And the last time he has seen you, aside from the unfateful meeting at the mall, was more recent than anyone would expect.

“Yeah, I mean he walks now.” Minseok lightly tapped his fingers on the granite countertop. “Last time I saw him he still needs to be carried everywhere.” You just smiled at the thought, before he continued. “And the biggest change could be the fact that Jun knows now.”

“Probably the biggest change.” You replied.

The scorching heat of Los Angeles hasn’t gotten into your system yet. Your palms and back sweaty and tired from carrying all the grocery bags which you held with much caution. You’re body’s carrying too much, all these produce, milk cartons, and of course the baby that’s growing in your stomach. Struggling to put down the bags as you couldn’t quickly squat, you curse yourself again for deciding to go through this alone.

“Need some help?” An oddly familiar voice presented itself beside you, making a chill run down your spine. He couldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be here.

“Minseok…” You said in shock, your hands quickly lowering the grocery bags in an attempt to hide your 20 weeks pregnant stomach.

“Let me get that, Y/N.” He stepped forward as he softly retrieved the grocery bags from your hands. Your stunned figure unable to protest nor to say anything. “Could you open your door now?”

“Yeah…” You answered with a nod, still unable to process his presence while getting your keys from your shoulder bag.

Still silent, you both entered your small apartment. Barely decent enough for the way you were brought up. But this is all that you have now, and it’s better than nothing. The past four months were the hardest for you. A twenty two year old expectant mother cut off by her influential family and left alone to live and make ends meet in a foreign land. Tough luck, tough life, you thought.

“Where should I put these milk, in the fridge or…” Minseok asked yet you’re quick to cut him off.

“Did he send you here?” You looked in his easily distinguishable eyes, now painted with imminent confusion. “Junmyeon, did he send you here?”

“Send me? I’m not his employee.” He answered with a short almost humorless laugh. “I’ve been in LA for business the past few weeks. Didn’t expect to see you while doing groceries, found a familiar face, so I trailed you down. Too creepy?”

“Does he know?” You asked, not bothering with the small courtesies as you were more nervous of the possibilities of finding him here.

“Where you’re at? Probably. He probably still keeps track of you.” Your breath hitched at Minseok’s response. “That you’re pregnant? I highly doubt. If he does, he wouldn’t let you live alone in this barely modest apartment.”

Your hand uncontrollably caressed your bump, a sense of protectiveness flowing all over you. “Would you tell him?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” There was sincerity in his voice, and you know Minseok is a man of his words. “Junmyeon is my friend, but you are too.”

He slowly walked over your form that just sat on the sofa. “But first you need to make me understand why you left him and why you’re living in this…” He looked around the bare white walls, the undeniable lack of furnishings and decor “..sad excuse for a home, with no offense meant.”

“Suho.” You dryly answered with almost a whisper, folds forming in his face in your response. “I didn’t leave Junmyeon. I left Suho. Whatever he is, I don’t want my son to do anything with him.”

“You know, don’t you?” You asked him again even before he was able to form any answer.

“I…” He started off, still processing any suitable answer. “I am aware of that, yes.” He slowly nodded, finally sitting down the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of you. “How did you…”

“Your friend was stupid enough to leave a folder full of transactions where I could read it.” You answered bitterly, still unable to accept the harsh truth behind the man you so dearly loved.

“Does he know that you… know?” Minseok was obviously careful in choosing his words, not wanting to upset a pregnant friend.

“You think I’ll be here if he’s aware that I know his dirty secret?” You said with a humorless laugh. “I don’t think I’d even be alive if so.”

“Come on, it’s not the best money maker but Junmyeon wouldn’t kill you. Not in a million years.” You just responded by shaking your head. “But, why are you here? And why in a place like this? I mean, it’s nice that you’re independent. But… isn’t this a little too low for your taste?”

“My parents cut me off when they discovered I’m pregnant. I begged them not to tell Junmyeon, had to make an excuse in my own expense just for them to not to lash it out on him. Told them the baby wasn’t his, a result of a drunken one night stand at a high end bar. Told me I was a disgrace for letting such a man as Junmyeon go, called me a whore for being pregnant with a random stranger. So I guess here I am.” A bitter taste still lingers in your mouth as you relayed what hell you’ve went through.

“But you don’t need to go through all of these, you could tell Junmyeon and..” You decided to cut him off even before he finishes his ill advice.

“And have my child live off the money he makes by breaking the law and ruining people’s lives? I’d rather stay here, Min.” You stated, not even considering to bend your moral compass.

He just sat there, an uncomfortable silence grew between the two of you as he struggled to digest the information. Minseok looked as if he’s thinking for an advice he could give or any action he could take.

“I wouldn’t tell Junmyeon, I wouldn’t tell anyone in one condition.” He finally spoke, which you just nodded for him to proceed. “Let me help you. You’re still my friend, and Junmyeon is my friend, it would be rightful for me to help your child. I can’t let you stay here knowing a baby is on the way.”

“Another thing, you couldn’t stay here any longer. Junmyeon probably has his men tracked on you, and you need to lose them before your belly grows too much to hide. I know a place.”

Minseok kept in contact with you, and he kept his promise too. There has hardly been any indication that Junmyeon was aware of your whereabouts, or the fact that he knocked you up. Minseok was even the one to help you arrange fees in the hospital when you gave birth. He’s an heir to a trademarked coffee shop line that has hundreds of branches so you took no guilt in accepting his offer.

“We kinda lost contact after Jaejin turned two. What happened?” He asked, swirling the contents of his glass making a sound of ice and water splashing around.

“Found a guy, he served as Jaejin’s father at that time. So I figured that I should cut all possible ties with my ex.” You answered, still playing with the unfortunate apple with your right hand.

“Fair enough, I guess. You could only think of how shocked I am to see you in that mall. I don’t even know that you’re back here. I had no idea that I didn’t even think that child was Jaejin.” He suddenly said lightheartedly.

“Maybe it was inevitable.” You answered with a deep sigh.

“Yeah, it was bound to happen.” He replied back. “But he’s doing a great job as a father now, isn’t he? He’s nailing it.”

“I guess. He and Jaejin are inseparable now.” You said, accompanied by a slight chuckle.

“If it makes any difference…” He started as he stood up from his seat, leaving the now empty glass on the countertop. “The gifts were from Junmyeon. Tricked him with the fact that I signed him up as a foster father overseas to help him recover from you. So that’s pretty much it, until next time.” And with that, he left you alone in the kitchen still waiting for the cake to finish. And wondering about the what ifs and what could’ve beens.

The red-bottomed black stiletto heels that you had for years now fitted your feet perfectly as you cautiously walked down the pathway of an exclusive and undeniably expensive Chinese restaurant. The splendid and effeminate white dress clinging to your body in ways that made you feel confident to be in such a place.

“Reservation under Mr. Zhang?” You told the receptionist that wore a red cheongsam. She asked your name for confirmation before she asked one of the butlers to lead you to one of the distant tables.

And there you saw Yixing Zhang, clad in a wonderfully simple black blazer and white dress shirt. A humble outfit that only made his stature and facial features pop out from feet away. The place was exquisite yet he seemingly outshined all crystal chandeliers and golden adorned walls.

“You look fantastic.” He stood up from his seat as he kissed your hand, a trail of electricity climbing up your cheeks resulting to an unconcealable blush.

“You, too.” You answered as he pulled a seat for you. And they say that chivalry is dead but the epitome of a gentleman was living and breathing in front of you.

“Isn’t this a bit too much?” You whispered, a tad bit ashamed at the immense effort.

“I figured that you have a bit of expensive taste. It’s just right to be on your best foot at the first date, right?” Yixing answered, a smile slowly forming on his face and his eyes adorably forming a smile as he does so.

He willingly and enthusiastically introduced you to a myriad of chinese cuisine. Chatting over his childhood back in his motherland that was sparked in remembrance over the presence of cua pao and char siu. The funny stories of his nameless cat and his fond memories shared with his beloved mother. How he transferred from China to Korea for the better law education, and you just willingly listened and admired how animated his hands become while he speaks about something he’s passionate about. Waving his hands around as he hold his chopsticks makes him seem so alive and vibrant, yet his face still tells a story of seriousness and sincerity as a result of his years of law practice.

“How about you? Why stop on being a paralegal? Haven’t you dreamt of pursuing law school?” Yixing asked with his eyes full of earnest intent to listen. And you feel your mood slip down, if the tables have turned and you’re now the subject, it was inevitable to admit who you really are - a mother. And you’re scared of losing this spark that you’re enjoying once he knows the truth.

“That has been my lifelong dream, honestly. But things came up, change of plans…” You delayed your revelation. It’s not that you’re ashamed of Jaejin, it’s more of being afraid of being deemed unworthy over again.

“What change of plans?” He asked as he wiped the sweet and sour sauce on his lips with the table napkin.

“Got pregnant.” You answered simply, trying to put it lightly.

Yixing visibly stalled in front of you, trying hard to digest the bomb you just dropped. And you understand his shock, it’s not the first time a promising date went downhill by the fact. But it still made you a tad bit sad that Yixing’s not an exception.

“Dealbreaker?” You tried to chuckle. “I’m sorry for dropping the truth a bit too late. This dinner was going well but I couldn’t let it go on without you knowing.” You shook your head.

“What? No! It’s not a dealbreaker. It’s… awesome.” Yixing’s charm filled dimples presented itself yet again while he smiled. “I just… I didn’t expect you to be a mother. You don’t look like one just yet.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You said with a smile.

“So how old is he.. He or she?” He asked again, and you could feel like he was sincerely interested in talking about Jaejin. “Wait, you’re not married right?”

“Jaejin, my son, is 6 years old. And yes, I’m not married.” You said with a smile.

“I know this is a sensitive subject but, where’s Jaejin’s father?”

“We live with him, just for the past few months. But we’re not together. We’re civil just for the sake of Jaejin.” You explained.

“So, coparenting?” He asked again.

“Yes, I think you could call it like that.” You answered again, and a period of short silence enveloped the two of you before you spoke again. “Is it really okay with you? I mean, I totally understand if it puts you off I-”

“No! I promise it’s not a problem for me. It made me even more interested in you, really. It painted a whole new aspect of you for me, stronger.” Yixing had a happy tone which made you breathe in relief. “Right now I’m just really looking forward on the day I meet Jaejin.”

And it was needless to say that put a smile on your face and lit a new fire in your heart.

“Is this where you live?” Yixing asked as the automated gates of Junmyeon’s mansion open and he started driving in. You answered a silent yup, trying to digest the clashing of worlds, the new one just ever so casually driving his car in the turf of your old. “So this is your ex’s place?”

“Yeah.” You answered with a low breath.

“You’re uncomfortable?” He asked with a chuckle. “Yeah, me too. This is unusual.” He remarked as he parked right at the front of the huge carved wood main doors and the large white marble fountain.

“So, thank you for tonight?” Yixing spoke again. “And I sincerely hope this wouldn’t be the last. I mean it.”

“I don’t think it would be.” You answered comfortably.

Yixing went out of the car and around to your door as he opened it. The manly smell of his perfume overtaking your senses and now your face is only a few inches from his. You could almost feel your face gravitate to his until a voice called your name behind him.

“Junmyeon…” You quickly fixed the way you stood and closed the door of his car. “This is.. This is,” Your hands moved in an awkward way.

“Attorney Zhang.” Junmyeon suddenly muttered, finishing your sentence for himself.

“Mr. Kim, it’s been a while.” And you swear you could feel the tension rise between the two as you stood there mind boggled on the fact that they’re aware of each other’s existence. Like two overlapping circles on a venn diagram.

“You know each other?” You cluelessly asked, head turning back and forth between the two men who had their eyes intensely looking at each other, almost boring a hole at each other’s heads.

“You could say that we have a bit of a history.” Yixing answered, a dry smile trying to facade the growing friction reflected in his eyes.

#junmyeon #junmyeon imagine #junmyeon fanfic #Suho #suho imagine #exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo suho #exo mafia

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 6 years ago

Text

Just One Little Thing Stops Me Every Time (2/3)

Summary: T.J. and Cyrus (separately) get some unexpected advice from visiting strangers. (Hint: The title)

As the other students made their way out of the studio, Cyrus chose to stay on the floor as exhaustion took over every muscle in his body.

He didn’t know why he decided to come to the dance studio for a class in order to clear his mind.

What possessed him?!?! Did he forget that he was terrible at dancing?!?! That he had two left feet?!?!

That day, the studio had a special guest teacher fly in from New York to teach a class – he was a choreographer for several Broadway productions. And, suffice to say, the man was brutal! His routines were complicated and he took no pity on anyone, not even on a beginner and non-dancer like Cyrus.

For what it was worth, though, the man was kind of pretty, in a masculine sort of way. Cyrus was confident enough to admit that to himself now whenever he found someone of the male species attractive.

A sudden tightening in his leg muscles interrupted his musings.

Releasing a pained groan, he reached out with a hand to try and massage the cramp.

“Hey, you okay?”

Cyrus looked up to see the guest teacher looking down at him in concern.

“Yes, sir. It’s just a cramp. No biggie.”

The teacher shook his head, his bright yellow hat shaking with the movement (why did the guy wear hats when they were indoors, anyway?). The man dropped his bag on the floor before sitting cross-legged across from Cyrus.

“May I?” The man gestured to his leg.

Cyrus nodded, giving his permission.

The teacher reached out and replaced Cyrus’ hand. Gently and with much care, he massaged the cramp.

“You don’t dance much, do you?” the man asked, matter-of-factly.

Cyrus scoffed. “I don’t dance, in general.”

The teacher laughed. “Oh, really? I know you can, kid. I saw you! I pay attention to all of my students! You just need a little more work. It took me years to get to the level I’m at now.”

Cyrus shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t really trying to get to your level. I just… needed a distraction.”

He had mumbled the last part to himself but it turned out that the man had great hearing.

“Oh? Must be that bad if you decided to go to a dance class if you can’t dance.”

Cyrus blushed.

The teacher chuckled and continued to massage the boy’s leg until the cramp slowly dissipated.

“There you go,” he beamed, patting Cyrus’ knee. “Take it easy, okay? You might feel the aftereffects on your leg later so if it’s too much, just take an ibuprofen.”

“Thanks… uh…”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Wow, I should be offended that you don’t even know my name! I acted and toured in Broadway for 5 years, you know!”

Cyrus grinned, sheepishly. “That sounds amazing. For you, I mean! I’m not really the type to like the spotlight. I prefer being behind the scenes. Like directing and screenwriting and all that.”

“Sounds like my old friend, Kelsi. She’s a composer but she and I did our fair share of directing our school musicals back in high school. Well, when my sister wasn’t trying to make everything about her, that is.” He let out a fond laugh. “But, all in all, we both did pretty well for ourselves. Even my sister! Living in squalor for a little while mellowed her out a bit.”

A wistful look settled on the man’s face, making Cyrus tilt his head in curiosity. The blonde was chatty, that was for sure.

“You know, I’m not getting picked up for a few more minutes,” the guy continued, flashing Cyrus a kind smile as he moved beside him. “If you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you, a person you probably won’t see ever again can be a good listener.”

And, apparently, he was also kind of nosy.

Strangely, his calm and comforting demeanor made Cyrus think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to talk to the guy.

As the son of therapists, he was aware of the benefits of talking about your feelings and letting your emotions out. He didn’t mind talking to Andi and Buffy but, at the moment, they had their own issues and Cyrus didn’t want to add to them.

It must be why he found himself talking.

“I have this friend,” he began, carefully. “And he’s been hanging out with this… girl. And… she’s not the nicest person around but they’re friends so…” He sighed. “It’s not like I can stop him from hanging out with his own friends, you know? But… Sometimes…”

He trailed off, feeling his chest clench.

The teacher flashed him a curious look. “Sometimes?”

“Sometimes… I wish he wouldn’t hang out with her,” Cyrus confessed, feeling a little ashamed at the selfish thought.

The guy hummed. “I see. Well, if you think this girl is a bad person, I get why you’re concerned.”

“He spends all his time with her!” Cyrus blurted out, feeling frustration taking over him. “We don’t even hang out as much as we used to anymore and I just… I miss him! But, I don’t think he misses me.”

He looked up to see the guy pursing his lips in deep thought.

“Are you jealous?”

Cyrus’ mouth fell open. “W-What?”

“Are you jealous?” the blonde man repeated. “And, it’s okay if you are. We are all susceptible to jealousy, it’s just human nature. So, are you?”

Cyrus wanted to lie, but he was never good at it. Lying gave him the heebie jeebies. So, he told the truth.

“Yeah… I guess I am. And I hate it! I wish it would just go away. It would make everything so much easier if I didn’t feel this way.”

The teacher hummed. “And… it also sounds to me… like there’s more to your jealousy than just missing your friend.”

Cyrus could practically feel his heart stop.

Was the guy implying what Cyrus thought he was implying?

The knowing look sent his way made his heart drop to his stomach.

He was so careful to hide his true feelings. And even though he had accepted himself as gay for some time now, he still wasn’t comfortable telling other people, especially strangers. He wasn’t even out to his parents yet!

How did this guy who had been talking to him for only 5 minutes already figure it out? What gave him away?

The blonde must have noticed his discomfort and flashed him a kind smile. “You don’t have to confirm anything. But, if it makes you comfortable…”

He raised his left hand and Cyrus could now see the white gold band on his ring finger.

“I’m married… to a man.”

Cyrus felt his mouth open. “O-Oh…”

He had never met a gay adult before. He always wished he had so he could them questions. Yet, here was one now, right in front of him.

He had so many things he wanted to ask.

Was he going to be okay?

Were people going to accept him?

Was he going to find love?

Yet, he couldn’t voice them out.

“So, I get what it’s like to be jealous of a girl,” the man stated, leaning back with his hands on the floor. “Back in high school, the guy I had a crush on had a girlfriend. She was beautiful, nice, smart, and quite headstrong. Everyone thought they were a perfect match.” He chuckled. “Gosh, I was so jealous! But, I had to hide it and pretend it didn’t hurt every time I saw them together. Senior year, I asked Kelsi to prom since I figured, might as well go with a friend, right? And he was there with his girlfriend. I taught him how to dance, you know? And he danced with her all night. And I danced with Kelsi all night. So, that was that. It was the status quo.”

Cyrus could hear the wistfulness in the man’s voice and wondered if ten or fifteen years from now, he would be talking about T.J. to some other gay kid who needed a bit of comfort and advice.

“How did you get over him?” he asked.

To his surprise, the man laughed and shook his head.

“I never really got over him. I guess it was one of those kinds of crushes that just evolved into something deeper.” He sighed, deeply. “We were friends but we didn’t really get close until after we both left for college. He stayed in Albuquerque and I went to New York. We were almost two thousand miles apart but, somehow, our friendship stayed intact. He and his girlfriend broke up. His best friend moved to California to be closer to his own girlfriend. And… well… I guess being in the same University as my sister reminded him that I existed.” He laughed. “Next thing I knew, he was asking me out, moved to New York during our junior year and then five years later, he asked me to marry him.”

Cyrus gasped, his eyes wide and his mouth open (again!)

It was the ultimate love story with a happy ending.

A love story Cyrus wished he could also have.

“I’m not saying that the same thing would happen with you and your friend,” the blonde man said, sounding serious for the first time. “I don’t know how your friend feels. But, I am saying that you shouldn’t take your friendship for granted. He sounds like someone very important to you and you don’t want to lose that just because you’re jealous of a girl. At the end of the day, you two are still friends and that’s a connection that’s special and unique to the both of you. Treasure it always.”

Cyrus did treasure his friendship with T.J. It was the only thing he was holding to throughout this whole Kira situation. But, old insecurities that never really disappeared kept moving to the forefront of his mind.

“I don’t know why he even wanted to be friends with me,” he said, softly. “I mean, he has more in common with her than with me. They both play basketball and are really good at it. I can’t even run up a hill without falling. We’re too… different.”

“Hmm... Well, here’s another thing. My husband was the second best player on our high school basketball team and I was in the Drama Club. For the first 3 years of high school, he and I rarely talked. He was all slogan shirts and baggy jeans while my hats always matched my shoes. He hates musicals while I live and breathe them.” The blonde man flashed Cyrus a cheeky smile. “Trust me, we barely had anything in common either. Yet, here we are.” He knocked Cyrus’ shoulder with his own. “And… a little hope never hurt anyone.”

After T.J. started hanging out with Kira, Cyrus had lost all hope of him ever possibly returning his feelings.

Perhaps, T.J. never did and Cyrus simply made himself fall into delusions of grandeur.

But, before he could say anything else, the sound of the door opening caught his ears.

Both he and the teacher looked up to see a man with dark curly hair entering.

He was frowning. “I thought you were going to wait outside for me, Ry.”

The blonde man chuckled as he got to his feet, picked up his bag, and walked over to the newcomer. Cyrus followed, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Sorry, babe. Got caught up talking to, uh… I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Cyrus.”

“Cyrus,” the man repeated, holding a hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ryan Evans. And this is my husband, Chad Evans.”

The other man growled, looking offended. “Danforth!”

The man, Ryan, chuckled. “He’s still in denial that he’s an Evans now.”

His husband, Chad, wrinkled his nose as he placed an arm over the blonde’s shoulders. “Sharing the same last name as your sister? No, thanks! And, you’re also a Danforth, Evans! Don’t you forget that!”

“Of course not, honey.” The blonde leaned in rubbed his nose against the other man’s before turning to Cyrus. “Legally, we hyphened our last names but it’s just easier to go with the ones we’re used to.”

“And if you’ve met his sister, you wouldn’t want people to know you’re related to her, even if it’s by marriage,” said Chad, looking disturbed.

Ryan rolled his eyes before shaking his head. “Thanksgiving is like a war zone with them,” he stated, fondly. “Anyway, we have to go. Our flight back to New York is tonight and we still have to pack and everything. It was nice meeting you, Cyrus. I hope things work out between you and your friend. And, take my advice. Don’t let this one thing get in the way of what you guys have. Trust me.” His gaze went to his husband who flashed him a questioning look. “You never know what might happen.”

Truth be told, Cyrus was still very unsure but he appreciated the advice. Besides, seeing the two men, looking different as can be (Ryan wasn’t exaggerating about the slogan shirts) but so happy and content, perhaps he could welcome a little hope in his heart for things to work out with T.J.

“Thank you,” he said to the blonde, giving him an appreciative smile. “It means a lot to hear that. And… to see you both. Maybe, there’s hope for me after all.”

Ryan nodded, his husband looking a bit confused beside him.

With one last wave goodbye, the couple turned and headed out the door.

Cyrus watched them leave, oddly jealous of the way Ryan had his arm wrapped around Chad’s waist whereas Chad’s own arm was over Ryan’s shoulder, both holding each other close.

T.J. liked to hold him like that, too, sometimes. When they walked side-by-side, the taller boy would just fling an arm around him, not realizing how he sent Cyrus’ heart into overdrive with the simple action.

Sighing to himself, Cyrus walked over to his bag and took out his phone to check the time.

There was a text message waiting for him from T.J., sent 10 minutes ago.

Are you free today? Wanna hang out?

Feeling a smile tug at his lips as his heart fluttered, Cyrus replied immediately. Sorry for the late response. I was at dance class. I’m free now.

Awesome! Where are you? I’ll pick you up.

Cyrus texted him the place before tucking his phone back into his bag and picking it up so he could head to the bathroom to change and freshen up before T.J. arrived.

And, this time, if Kira decided to show up and interrupt their fun, Cyrus would make sure that he wasn’t leaving.

He wasn’t going to take his time with T.J. for granted.

Tag list:

@myrandom-fandomlife

@miracufan

@amazingpartytattoos

@tyrusstan06

@tyrusoldme-am-spoilers

@lostandafraiddepressedgirl

@lovefortyrus

@luzawithoutu

@tyrustina

#tyrus #tyrus fanfic #andi mack #just one little thing

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theshatteredrose · 5 years ago

Text

Turquoise Lotus Father (Treasure Seekers Saga 2) - Chapter 19 - Etrian Odyssey 5 Fanfiction

AN: Boy, this chapter was fun :’D Shorter than usual (because I had numerous doctor’s appointments this week which are not fun), but there’s a tiny cliffhanger at the end. So, yeah, hope you enjoy~!

Ao3 | Wattpad | FFNet

Chapter 19:

“Drayce!”

When he heard his name being called once again, but far closer, Drayce purposely moved away from Keane to prevent the other dragoon from snatching him again. And potentially use him as a hostage once more. He moved to stand by Runihura, the harbinger on his feet but leaning heavily against the trunk of a tree for support.

He was about to call out to the others in response, but a white blur on four legs burst through the opening in the forest wall. It wasn’t a monster, however. No, it was better. It was Nashoba!

The white wolf scrambled into the clearing, stopped and sniffed around. He then threw his head back and released a loud howl before he darted toward Drayce. The white wolf made several whining noises as he circled him, nudging him with his nose and simply unable to stay still.

Not long afterwards, more figures appeared. And every single one of them were familiar.

He was equally relieved to see them. But also terrified that they were going to be pulled into this potentially dire situation!

“Typical,” Keane murmured as he and Keita slunk back, either to hide in the shadows, or make their escape.

“Drayce!” Faelen called out in concern as he rushed over to him and hugged him around the waist. “Are you ok?”

“I-I’m fine,” Drayce replied as Blayke also reached him, and used his rapier to finally remove the bindings around his wrist. As the ropes fell away, Drayce immediately pulled his arms around from his back to wrap them around Faelen to comfort him.

Man, it felt amazing to have use of his arms and hands again!

The others soon gathered around him, they too asking him questions about his wellbeing. But Salim darted pass them all and over to Tokala. Only for the Cursed Blade to force Tokala into a standing stance, ready to strike.

“Wait! He’s being controlled by the Cursed Blade!” Drayce immediately called out to the pugilist. “Salim, don’t let that blade touch you!”

Salim managed to side-step a slash from the Cursed Blade, and somehow slipped around behind Tokala. Despite the heavy bandages around his shoulder and arm, and the red stain that could be seen seeping through, he managed to pull Tokala into a bearhug. Successfully preventing him from moving.

For now.

“Find a to get that blade away from Tokala!” Salim ordered as Tokala began to squirm in his hold, the Cursed Blade forcing him to do what he could to get himself free.

“L-let go! Please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Hold on, Tokala! We’ll think of something!” Drayce promised.

Though, freeing Tokala from the Cursed Blade’s possession was going to be easier said than done. And they needed to think of something – fast!

“R-Runi!”

A new voice prompted both Drayce and Faelen to take a step back and turned to look behind them. Resting at the base of a tree, Runihura’s head snapped up just as a young brounii with blond hair and glasses practically threw himself at him.

Even though a wince marred his face, Runihura shakily wrapped his arms around the other. “What are you doing here?” he chided in what could only truly be described as a brotherly manner. “It’s dangerous.”

So, he was the one that Runihura had been trying so hard to protect.

“He made it inside…” Drayce sighed with relief.

“Yeah, he explained some things,” Blayke answered before he stood in front of him and grabbed a handful of his shirt. Despite the scowl on his face, the act of grabbing his shirt wasn’t harsh or hostile. “And you; you have some explaining to do yourself. I am seriously pissed off with you right now!”

Um, yeah, Drayce thought he would be.

“I know, I know!” Drayce returned as he grasped at Blayke’s wrist with his hands. He didn’t try to push his hand away, however. “I get it. But I’ll explain everything later, I promise. I only did it because-”

“You didn’t want anyone else to get involved and get hurt,” Blayke interrupted with a sigh, though his scowl stayed in place. “I know. I’m still pissed, however. If it weren’t for Shashi taking note of the map and Virgil confirming for us that you were a hostage in the labyrinth, we wouldn’t know where to look. We got lucky this time.”

Y-yeah…

“B-Blayke!” Caelem stuttered, quickly drawing them both back to the reality of their situation. “I don’t think Salim can last much longer!”

Blayke immediately whirled around, his frown deepening with frustration and concern when he laid eyes on said pugilist. “Not with his injury…”

Just as Caelem had said, Salim was finding it increasingly difficult to keep skinny, lithe Tokala in his arms. “How bad is it?”

“Bullet passed straight through. It’s not good,” Blayke answered through gritted teeth before he peered at him from the corner of his eye. “What do we do?”

Good question…

“Stop getting in the way, you worthless shit!” Keane suddenly bellowed as he stepped out from the shadows. “Let him lead the way to the Shining Lotus!”

Blayke immediately snapped his head in Keane’s direction and uttered a sound that could only be described as a protective and angry snarl. The bandit, however, simply smirked in Blayke’s direction before he turned to slip back into the shadows once more.

Hearing painful grunt from Salim as Tokala continued to put up a fight with him, though entirely unwillingly, caused everyone to turn their attention back to him.

“Dray?”

Drayce loathed what he had to say next. “Unfortunately, he’s likely to be right. The Shining Lotus is the only weapon that can defeat the Cursed Blade. And save Tokala.”

They had no means to search for it themselves. Their best bet was to wait for Cursed Blade to pull Tokala toward it, and then, by some miracle, got their hands on it first.

Blayke obviously didn’t like that plan. “So, we just let him go?”

Drayce gave a reluctant nod. “…Yeah.”

“But where is the Shining Lotus?”

“I don’t know!” Drayce shouted in frustration before he could stop himself. He uttered a sigh as his shoulders drooped forward tiredly. “I don’t know…It could be anywhere.”

If only he could do more research. If only he had more information. If only he had more time!

“Watch out!”

Drayce snapped his head just in time to watch deliver a kick to Salim’s stomach, and by doing so, allowed him leverage to push back away from him and to leap out of his arms. The force of the blow propelled Salim back a few feet. He, somehow, managed to stay on his feet and instinctively raised his arms in a blocking, defensive motion in front of him.

Tokala, however, didn’t immediately try to attack him. Instead, he pivoted on his heel and made a beeline for where Drayce stood with his guildmates.

It was almost like he was…responding to something? Or had Tokala somehow fought against the Cursed Blade so that he would not attack Salim, someone that was extremely important to him?

Drayce reacted instinctively; with one hand, he reached out to snare Faelen by the collar of his jacket and pulled him back while he summoned a Decoy Shield less than two feet in front of them. As the Cursed Blade sliced through the etheric shield with little effort, he pushed Faelen toward Blayke, who intuitive took hold of him and jumped backwards.

“Everyone, scatter!” Drayce ordered as he summoned two more Decoy Shields behind Tokala in hopes that they would offer enough of a distraction.

Thankfully, it worked. To some degree at least. The presence of the shields caused the Cursed Blade to immediately hone in on them. With two incredible fast and précised downwards strikes, the shields were destroyed.

So, Drayce summoned three more in rapid succession. Each one luring him further away from his guildmates. And the opening in the forest wall that led to the main area of the labyrinth’s floor.

“Drayce!” Blayke shouted to him.

“Get Salim out of there!”

Blayke, thankfully, simply sprung forward to where Salim was. The pugilist had sunk to the ground on one knee as his cradled his left should with his hand. He didn’t protest when Blayke reached him, roughly flung Salim’s arm over his shoulder, and all but dragged him to safety.

“Everyone else, stay back!” Drayce ordered as he focused on summoning more Decoy Shields. “Any attempt of physical contact with the Cursed Blade would result in immediate poisoning!”

Tomlin was physical proof to that fact.

Not to mention that the Cursed Blade appeared to have the ability to slice through anything. He didn’t even want to imagine the type of…carnage it could do to a living being. Oh, wait, the Toxipede…

Drayce purposely shook his head to prevent himself imagining something like that happening to anyone. He couldn’t let that happen. Especially not to one of his guildmates.

“There’s got to be something we can do…” Kamali was heard uttering, his voice full of worry and concern. And helplessness.

Drayce was having an increasingly difficult time keeping Tokala distracted with his Decoy Shields. It was taking all of his mental capacity. He couldn’t begin to think of anything else.

“There’s…Zohar, can you use your wraiths to help prevent Tokala from attacking anyone? Kamali, I’ll need your elemental skills, too. I’ll use my Decoy Shields to hopefully keep the Cursed Blade at bay. We can’t come into contact with the Cursed Blade.”

“Of course. I will summon wraiths other than Theodore for this battle,” Zohar stated without any hesitation.

Not long after those words passed his lips, Drayce felt that familiar cold sensation race down his spine. Despite what Zohar had just stated, he had expected to find Theodore materialise into existence.

Instead, he was greeted by the sight of two…flaming skulls. Literally flaming skulls. Though, they didn’t look quite like human skulls with their strangely jagged teeth and sharp edges. Floating soundlessly, let the fiery red flames that seemed to originate from within the skull itself crackled energetically.

“I’ll…use my ice skills to make barriers,” Kamali informed as he readied himself. “I don’t wish to hurt Tokala.”

No. No one did.

All they could do was to use stalling tactics. Tiring Tokala out was unlikely to be successful; that Cursed Blade controlled his physical body completely. It was unlikely to care, nor be hindered by Tokala’s fatigued.

It could…it could potentially force him to fight until he…died.

Wait, maybe there was something else. The area that the Cursed Blade appeared from. There might be something there to help them. Something in there that could see it. At least some kind of information. Something.

“No, wait, Kamali; head north from here and look for another opening within the forest wall,” Drayce instructed as he summoned more Decoy Shields and ignored the way each summoning caused a sharp pain in his temples. “There might be something there to help us. Use your Detect Mana.”

“B-but…” Kamali wanted to protest. Wanted to stay and be of help to them. And yet, his words trailed off as he quickly realised that maybe, just maybe, finding the location that once housed the Cursed Blade could be beneficial for them all.

He still didn’t want to turn his back on them and leave.

“Go, now,” Drayce urged.

“…Y-yes,” Kamali murmured.

Drayce couldn’t afford to look away from Tokala, but he did hear the sound of footsteps as they hurried away. And toward the north.

Good. If…if nothing else, Kamali should be safe from the Cursed Blade.

“Let’s keep him busy, Zohar.”

“Yes.”

Zohar wordlessly raised a hand in Tokala’s direction and fiery wraiths immediately darted forward. They encircled the now unnervingly silent Tokala, prompting him to attempt to slice the dancing skulls down with vicious slashes of the blade. However, the skulls managed to evade the attacks.

That seemed to agitate the Cursed Blade, prompting it to immediately turn in Zohar’s direction.

Not allowing the blade to force Tokala to take even a step forward, Drayce promptly summoned his Decoy Shields once again. And that caused Tokala to turn his attention toward them instead, mercilessly slashing at them and the skulls that continued to hover nearby.

“What should the rest of us do?” Blayke asked, desperate to be of use in some way.

“I…don’t know,” Drayce winced, unable to take his eyes off of Tokala and the blade that controlled him so fiercely. He wasn’t entirely sure if his blurred vision was from his intense concentration, or because of exhaustion of having to summon so many Decoy Shields in such a short amount of time. Either way, he couldn’t stop. “I can’t see…Where is everyone?”

“Fiorello is healing Runihura and Salim with Palash, and with Nashoba guarding them. Faelen and Caelem are with me. Kamali is to the north, out of sight as he searched for anything, while Zohar is a few steps behind you,” Blayke promptly answered, though did nothing to hide his growing concern for him.

Ok, good. He could…vaguely see the floating, flaming skulls that Zohar had summoned.

Yet…something felt wrong.

Keane said that the Cursed Blade would hunt down the Shining Lotus. And yet…Tokala didn’t seem to be heading in any direction. He, rather the Cursed Blade, seemed content to stayed in place and fight anyone or anything in front of him. Striking down the Decoy Shields and wraiths around him.

That could be one of two things; the Cursed Blade’s conscious desire was the fight and win. Or…the Shining Lotus not in the labyrinth. Not somewhere close by.

Then that meant…

“Blayke,” Drayce softly called out to Blayke, immediately gaining his friend’s attention. Enough so that he moved to step beside him. Though, he was unlikely to like the order he would issue next. “You and Caelem…get Salim and Runihura out of here and to safety. Take Fiorello, Faelen, and Palash with you. And Kamali.”

Having been staying at the back of the group, Faelen sprung forward suddenly with a protest before Blayke could must one of his own. “B-but my arrows…”

Drayce shook his head, of which was now starting to throb from the deep, desperate concentration and summoning of shields. Three more shields. Three more destroyed shields. The way the Cursed Blade forced Tokala to move…

“No, Faelen, I need you to help Blayke keep the others safe.”

He also didn’t want him to see what could possibly happen next…Faelen was too young for that. There was no need to scar him like that. He might be sad now, but…

“Drayce…” Drayce couldn’t see his childhood friend’s expression, but he knew that his face was twisted into an expression of disbelief, frustration, and fearful agitation. “We…can’t let him make his way into town.”

He knew the severity of the situation.

“I know.” Drayce pushed past the pain to continue his stalling tactics. “Blayke, please. If anything happens, hide the others somewhere safe in the labyrinth and warp back to town to warn Ramus. I’ll…stall for as long as I can.”

He…wasn’t entirely sure what he could do against a blade that fought alongside the one and only Despot during the Legendary War. But he had to try something. The Shining Lotus had to be somewhere close by. It just had to be…

Blayke hesitated. “But…”

“I will stay with him,” Zohar suddenly stated, causing Blayke to look over in his direction. He continued, his voice firm and determined. “And I will ensure his safety, regardless of what happens to me.”

Drayce drew in a sharp intake of air and almost misfired a Decoy Shield.

He…Zohar…

“Drayce!” Caelem suddenly called out to him, his voice filled with urgency. “I see a shining light!”

…What?

“Where?” Drayce immediately asked as he tore his gaze away from Tokala to instead look over at Caelem.

Caelem immediately raised his arm and pointed to the area before them. “The water in front of you!” he answered quickly.

“I can’t see anything,” Blayke muttered next to him as he, too, turned to look desperately for that shining light.

“Neither can I,” Drayce replied, but felt a tired smile make its way to his lips. “But we’re not supposed to.”

Just like he was the only one to witness the light of the Radiant Moon of Compassion, it appeared that Caelem was the only one to find the Shining Lotus.

Filled with renewed energy, Drayce summoned three more Decoy Shields in the direction that led away from the waters Caelem had indicated to. “Caelem, go! It’s the Shining Lotus! Quickly!”

Caelem looked over in his direction, unease and nervousness in his posture. “But-!”

“You’re the only one who can wield it and save Tokala!” Drayce promptly interrupted. “Just like the Turquoise Lotus Father did for his own brother! We’ll cover you, so go!”

“Y-yes!” there was that nervousness in Caelem’s voice. And yet, there was also determination.

And it was that determination that propelled him forward, in the direction of the bright light only he could see.

Finally, the Shining Lotus had revealed itself! They were in with a chance now!

#Etrian Odyssey #etrian odyssey 5 #fanfiction #turquoise lotus father #the treasure seeker #Angelward Guild

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