#like by living your truth you may unexpectedly help someone else find theirs

[mayahawkeswife]

i think people really do lack the understanding of just how much representation matters.

like, chappell roan. not only is she an out and proud LESBIAN, but i just saw a interview where she opens up about how she is also demisexual. that truly struck a chord with me personally, because i’ve been struggling with figuring myself out in those terms and just hearing someone talk about it, knowing i’m not alone in my feelings and that it’s okay, really does help.

representation MATTERS. DIVERSE representation matters.

[universal-kitty]

Hello! For the poetry prompts,' I may not believe in fate , but i believe in you ’ with G'raha Tia?

poetry starters

   “You could’ve warned me, you know.” G’raha sheepishly looked up from his studies, to the familiar face of an old friend. However pleased as punch he might’ve been to see them at any time previous, now was....perhaps not the time to be so excited about seeing his hero again. After all, things have gone in very topsy-turvy ways recently, and for Rhela to be upset at him is only natural.

   It’s what happens...when you conceal your identity from someone you not only care deeply about, but when the feelings are unexpectedly returned... Well. It causes far more issues than G’raha had originally hoped for.

   Perhaps not that “dying to save the person I cherish most” is much for “hoping for something” now, is it? A certain....healer Myst- Miqo’te would certainly remind him as much.

   With that glare they give him- the angriest he’s ever seen them- perhaps that assumption is accurate.

   “I am aware,” he says, as kindly and neutral as possible. “However, it would have not served either of us well, had you known my identity from the start. You must understand why I did what I-”

   “Don’t give me that crap,” they snap, tail and ears flicking in agitation. “I know you did those things thinking it would be for the better. So that you could....die like that. But don’t put my feelings aside here, G’raha.” His heart dared hope for meanings within those words, but he was quick to tamper them out.

   Another thing he desperately wanted, but could have nothing to do with: the feelings that had consumed him here in the First, pining away for a champion lost, but one that was still out there. That could yet assist him in saving the First without issue. In preventing the very calamity that happened upon this world!

   If only it had been so easy as his daydreams played them out to be...

   The sound of boots cuts off any further thought, watching Rhela stroll into the area with purpose, dark green eyes behind a pair of glasses trained on his pure, bright red. It made him want to fluster and avoid their gaze....as much as he wanted to meet their gaze head on, and never look away again.

   ....His resolve wavered in their light, and he glanced away but a moment before- unable to help himself- he looked back at them once more.

   Even while angry, they were still so cute... It’s simply not fair.

   “...I was worried about you,” they say after a lengthy pause, passionate gaze softening into such a worried, sorrowful expression that his heart broke into pieces on the spot. Hands raising unsurely, wanting to comfort, not knowing where to begin. “I don’t know....what I’m angry at, even. Am I mad at you for lying to me...? For you not being you or your stupid plan? For....getting one of my own friends in on it...!!”

   First contact in ages, and it’s Rhela pushing him harshly, G’raha stumbling in shock. Th-They’re so much stronger now! He could still distantly remember his youth... A small, playful push he well deserved for teasing them too much. It had been a strong wind, but this.... How much stronger did they get...?!

   “I-I.... You got me worried sick over so many things!” Ah, the anger was back. Though when they looked up at him again, ears laid back and.....tears...? In their eyes... “Worried about the people here, the lives being lost, where G’raha was, who you were......why I kept being so scared for you!!! It’s not fair that you led me on like that!!” Another push, though softer this time.

   A sob echoed in the room, G’raha’s heart- if not before- officially broken at their words. At the tears of a hero he’d come to treasure so much... How could he ever forget how emotional they were? The soundless cry as the doors closed shut...

   The red streaks in their hair, proof of their devotion to him. That his life had impacted someone- his own hero- so greatly, that the color of his own hair would live on theirs forevermore.

   “Say something, you-!!!!” On their next attempt to push him, G’raha indulged on a once passing thought. One that had toyed with his mind many times, distracting him from work and losing him in a world of daydreams that- all too often- Lyna had to snap him out of.

   He pulled them close, hugging them. A hopefully painless activity, as he was all too aware of the crystals and trinkets that decorated his outfit as the Crystal Exarch.

   “I am sorry,” he murmured, pain leaking into his voice. “My friend, it was never my intent to hurt you as I did. Were I able to, I would take your pain away... That being said, I fear I could not do things differently. I will not see to it that you save one life at the sacrifice of the many. If there is....another way, then I could, perhaps, consider that. As things are right now, however...” His voice wavered, feeling the small, yet strong arms of the Miqo’te in front of him embrace him in turn. His heart aching fiercely, wishing for nothing more but for this moment to last forever and-

   “I know.... I know, but it still hurts. It’s still not fair to me, G’raha...” Any concerns of pressing baubles seems to go right out the window when they’re nuzzling into him like this. (He can only hope those strong ears of theirs don’t pick up the racing of his heart...) “I want to do something for you. Anything. I just...” A shaky breath in. “I don’t want to lose you again...”

   “...I’m sorry, Rhela.” It feels like all he can do; apologize to them. Again and again, until momentary forgiveness can be achieved. Until they can accept that and, from there, find a way to progress without stopping him in his quest to save the First.

   This land who needs him as much as all and any lands need this beloved, treasured, Warrior of Light.

   “If it is any consolation,” he murmurs, a hand stroking their hair. Daring to hope, “if there is anyone out there who might find a way for things to end for the better, it would be you. You’ve always been incredibly determined like that.” Rhela’s head rises at his words, staring up at him with such a pleading look that- for a moment- G’raha forgets himself; a hand strokes their cheek, admiring the dark lines of their race. A naturally occurring feature for them, and one that suits Rhela all too well, he feels.

   “I may not believe in fate, but I believe in you.” He says it with such conviction, that for a moment, it feels....like truth. Like there is no possible way that they- together- could not ever fail in whatever they set their mind to. G’raha returning in full to the Source? Why not! Surely, anything could be possible. It’s simply a matter of-

    ......Of perhaps not cupping Rhela’s cheek like he has every intent of bowing down just a little bit lower to kiss them, how about that?

   He backs off in a rush, face flushing just as quickly as Rhela’s does, having realized at the same moment what the Exarch himself caught onto. It’s, perhaps, a great kindness that nobody happened to walk in on them, embracing like they were secret lovers....!! (The worst part is G’raha wondering how he could even respond to rumors like that...! How does one deny interest or feign lack of when all one has ever wanted was to be with that person?! It simply would never work out!!)

   “A-Ah...... Thank you, G’raha...”

   “It’s, ah....it’s no problem at all. You know I’m more than happy to support you and provide encouragement.” By the Twelve, he wishes to hide his visage away in his hood...!! This is killing him.

   Which is why it breaks his heart as much as it does make him relax a little when Rhela backs up for the door. “Well, I.... I better head out. There’s still so much to do, so much to see-”

   “O-Oh! Yes, of course...”

   “I’m sure.....Thancred or Alisaie is wondering where I am...”

   “Y-Yes. Do take care, Warrior.”

   “Mmmhm. You too.” And with all that awkwardness, they’re gone. As quickly as they came, but now leaving G’raha with a burning, aching hole of want in his heart. A hand coming up to absentmindedly clutch his robes- right over his heart- and stare where they had left.

   ....Once upon a time, he had woken up, virtually alone in a new world. One not his own, where the Warriors had long since died out. Not even Cid was there....nor anyone else who might have been a part of NOAH. A single Mystel- Miqo’te- and the star of the WoL, who- almost like a promise- indeed left a star behind in which to chart his desperate, hopeful course. But now faced with the realization that they would not so simply let him die.....and left G’raha with a hesitation of wanting to go in the first place...

   “...You make things so difficult,” he mused quietly, pulling up his hood and turning away from the door. “You say such things, not knowing that I, too, would like to........”

   He shook his head. Words were unimportant right now. More importantly.... He needed to do as Rhela bid him to do. They had not want him to go away a second time? Then gods willing, he could do something- anything- to make it happen.

[vickypoochoices]

Partner In Crime part 6.

[MASTERLIST.]

Part 5.

Wrapping the thick fluffy blanket over her shivering body, Lyla reached one frozen hand out shakily, stuffing another chocolate in her mouth.

There was no point even attempting to fix the heating problem, she’d lived here long enough to know that she was clueless when it came to anything like this. And Zig was so handy. He’d know exactly what to do. Shame he was out again, with his new girlfriend Cherry. Whore.

Lyla smiled to herself as the word danced on the tip of her tongue, accidentally spilling out to the empty apartment. Zig could keep her for all she cared, if he was willing to do the dirty with someone named Cherry of all the fucking names under the sun, then he could keep her and all the STI’s she was bound to have picked up. Slut. Lyla managed to keep that last insult to herself, pulling the last chocolate from the box into her mouth, barely taking the time to savour the taste.

Who says she needed Zig anyway? If she sat here for the next three days eating chocolate then there was a small chance her wedding dress would no longer fit surely. You can’t get married without a dress right? Knowing Dean he’d have a back up dress, and a back up for that one too. She’d come up with all kinds of solutions to her problem this evening, every one of them knocked back. Run away? Too obvious! Dean was a rich prick, he’d hire someone to sniff her out in an instant. Lock the door and barricade herself in the apartment? He’d either pay to have the damn building knocked down or he’d just leave her to starve to death. The latter being her preference if she had a choice in the matter.

Lyla sank back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over her head and huddling under it’s warmth. The overwhelmingly familiar scent that she knew as Zig’s stung her nostrils, feeling a sharp stab of pain surface unexpectedly. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.

She shot up hurriedly at the rapping on the door, blanket trailing on the floor as she padded over to the peephole.

“Aaron?” Her nose scrunched up in confusion as she pulled the door open.

“Hey chickadee. Woah, why’s it feel like the North Pole in here?” Aaron stepped forward and around her, heading straight for the kitchen.

“The man of the house is out.” Lyla replied dryly. “And the heating’s on the blink again.”

Aaron dipped his head under a white cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, hands twisting a few knobs. Huh, so that’s what that thing is!

“No worries, I cracked it! Sucks that Zig is out though, it’s been a while since we last caught up!”

“Wasn’t he just round yours a few nights ago? He slept in until 6pm the next day, said it had been a long one with you.”

“Ahh sorry chicky, I don’t think so. That’s why I came round actually, to check Zig’s okay. It’s been weeks since we last hung out. Is something going on?”

Lyla’s stomach dropped, tears pricking the back of her eyes as realisation sunk in. He’d been lying to her all along. He’d been fucking that bitch this whole time.

***

“So Ziggy, I’m only in town for a few more nights. Can I count on your company?” As she shook her deep red mane the perfect waves fell just short of her breasts, tightly compacted into a figure hugging dress. Not that Zig had even noticed.

He took a steady sip from his bottle, running over how to play this in his head. “Do you have to go?” What the hell was that you desperate fuck?!

She ran her tongue along her lips, thick with sticky gloss and overly plump. “You’re sweet baby, but we both know this isn’t going anywhere.”

Uncertain how to respond, Zig found himself giving her the slightest nod in recognition, a meek smile on show.

“For what it’s worth Zig I appreciate you taking the time to get to know me.”

“Of course why wouldn’t I...”

“We don’t need to pretend any more sweetie. I know you aren’t interested in me. Don’t get me wrong, i’ve had fun playing with you, but you’re a good boy at heart. I’d eat you alive given the chance.”

“I...”

“You have a girlfriend, I know.”

“How?” He felt a warm rush creep over him at her choice of words, the idea of Lyla being his girlfriend one day, after all this shit was over, made him giddy with excitement. But how could Cherry possibly know that? He’d been careful not to mention Lyla’s name, not wanting to drag her into this mess if he could help it.

“What I wouldn’t give to have someone look at me the way you do when you think about her. You’re so oblivious, it’s adorable. Those pretty little eyes of yours light up all of a sudden, and it’s like I don’t exist, no one else exists. You can carry on a conversation but you’re not really here. Don’t even think about denying it, after all these dinners we’ve been on I think i’ve finally got you sussed.”

Zig was rendered speechless, taking a moment to catch himself. Good going Zig!

“Am I that obvious?” She offered him a teasing smile, the bags under her eyes crinkling upwards as her face stretched wide, despite the mound of make up attempting to hide them.

“Even if I wasn’t so good at reading people, there’s no way I could ever miss that massive hickey you’ve been sporting all week.”

Zig’s hand swiftly trailed to the sensitive spot on his neck, the once dark purple bruise having faded to a yellowing brown. He’d completely forgotten it even existed, his mind fixed on more important matters recently. He felt a pang of regret as his mind wandered to Lyla. How little he’d seen of her recently, how badly she must be feeling. He just needed her to hang on a little longer. There were just three days left until the wedding and he wasn’t about to give up now. He was close to finding a way out of this, he could feel it.

“Which leads me on to my first question. What are you doing here with me? I get the impression it’s the last place on Earth you want to be.”

“That’s...not entirely true. I could think of worse places for sure. You are a lovely girl Cherry.” A genuine smile slipped into place. He meant it. As much as he didn’t want to have to be in this position, dipping into what little savings he had to take out a stranger every night in the hope she would eventually open up to him about her idiot ex boyfriend, she had been friendly and kind, despite clearly seeing through him.

“Okay sweet boy, save the speech. My next question for you is how did you find me?”

“With great difficulty. Sheer grit and determination some might say.”

She chuckled warmly, casting him an appraising look, teeth sinking into one talon like ruby red fingernail, a decoy to hide the sincere smile slowly spreading.

“Alright alright. I have my fair share of secrets myself, I’ll let you keep yours. Just let me tell you something handsome. I suspect me and you may have a common enemy. And he’s the reason why I have to skip town soon.”

“Why?” Zig sat forward in his seat abruptly, back straightening, eager to hear more.

“This is my life now. This is the only way to stay safe. As a matter of fact, i’ve never risked so much before as I have recently just by being here with you.” Cherry discreetly glanced around the restaurant, seeming to be on edge all of a sudden.

“Will you tell me about him?”

“Is there any point? You already know anyway. What’s the plan here kid, get me to stand up and testify for you somewhere that Dean’s a dirty scumbag that beats women up because he can?”

“He...Hurt you? He hit you?” Shit. Lyla swore he’d never gone as far as to hit her, but what did Cherry stand to gain from lying about it to a stranger? That made no sense. She was telling the truth.

Her eyebrows raised as she watched his face in silence for a minute before continuing. “And the rest.”

His mouth gaped open, fear stabbing his chest as his thoughts turned to Lyla.

“He had me fooled for a while. We were young, first proper relationship for both of us. I thought I was in love with him. Sure, he was controlling. But in a way it turned me on. And the possessiveness, I liked it. I thought that’s what I wanted. Someone to tell me I was theirs so often I couldn’t possibly forget. I got a rise out of his jealousy, it made me feel sexy and wanted. I struggled for years afterwards, thinking I was the fucked up one. I was so young, naive and stupid.” Her chin wobbled as she placed a hand over her mouth, taking a moment to compose herself.

Zig reached over, placing a comforting hand on the top of her shoulder, a weak smile the only response for a full minute.

“Anyway it is what it is. As soon as he got that ring on my finger everything changed for the worst.”

Zig’s head snapped up. “Ring?”

Her head bobbed up and down in an uncertain nod. “I thought you knew. That’s why you went to the trouble of tracking me down right?”

Zig’s brow furrowed in confusion, words failing him.

“It seems Dean has done a good job of covering his tracks then. Money will do that for you. Of course his parents know, they were the only witnesses we actually had, he arranged the whole thing. They put on a good show, but deep down I know they are terrified of him. They know what he really is. He’s the one with all the cash these days, he’s the powerful one. They’ll stick by him no matter what.”

Zig ran a shaky hand through his hair, struggling to control his breathing. “So you end up leaving Dean, get a divorce and he pays you off to keep quiet. Why are you constantly moving around then?”

“What...No. That’s not right! I don’t need or want that prick’s money. I ran away and I left him yes, but there’s a reason I’m always on the move.”

“What are you saying Cherry?”

“We never got divorced. We’re still married.”

***

Zig all but skipped through the apartment door, gathering Lyla up in his arms and spinning them both round on the spot just once, before he recoiled, her hands slapping at his chest hard. As her feet settled onto the ground she wasted no time in putting distance between them, her eyes dark and cold.

“Don’t.” Lyla barked, a blush creeping up her neck as she struggled to control her anger.

“What’s going on Lyla?” Deep grooves surfaced as Zig’s forehead crinkled in confusion.

“As if you don’t know! Are you that fucking blind?”

“Talk to me baby.”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t act like you give a damn about me. I trusted you Zig...I...fucking trusted you!

The sound of Lyla’s sobs echoed through the silent apartment. Taking a tentative step towards her, Zig winced, resisting the urge to clutch at his chest as it painfully hammered away quickly, too quickly, on the brink of breaking there and then.

“Please talk to me.” He managed, his voice wobbling as his nerve slipped.

Lyla’s eyes narrowed as she rounded on him, jabbing him harshly in the chest with one pointy finger, throwing as much of her weight behind it as possible.

“Now you want to talk? So you can sweet talk me like you did before? I thought you were different Zig. I thought you actually gave a damn about me. Yet here you are, thinking with your dick and fucking around like every other jerk out there.”

At some point she’d traded sharp jabbing fingers for heavy relentless pounding. Zig stood there, too shell shocked to react, taking the full force of her anger wordlessly. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I... What?” His scrambled mind started racing, trying to make sense of the accusations she was so freely throwing around.

“Just so you know, she’s definitely a stripper at the very least with a name like Cherry.” Lyla’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, her mouth twisted into a unpleasant smirk.

Zig’s pounding heart stopped thrashing at the sound of Cherry’s name. How the hell did Lyla find out about that? And why was she so angry? All he’d done was try to help.

His mouth took over, a quick comment slipping out before he had a chance to even process what he was saying. “I’m pretty sure that’s not her real name.”

Lyla’s eyes blazed as she bit back equally quickly. “Look at you defending her, how sweet. Well I hope she’s worth it all Zig.”

“What the fuck is going on? This is all for you Lyla. For us. You need to listen to me.”

“No Zig. I’m done with you.” The definitive tone in her voice made Zig suddenly take note of his surroundings, eyes falling on two buldging suitcases at the hallway entrance.

“What the...”

“I’m moving in with Dean.”

“You what? Why Lyla? Whatever you think is going on, it's not worth running away to shack up with that vile prick!”

Lyla’s back straightened, her face impassive. “Say what you want about him Zig, but one thing I can tell you is he would never cheat on me.” Her eyes searched his, before roaming his face. She took her time, following every inch of his face, committing it to memory, before snapping them shut, head lowered, unable to look at him any longer.

“I’ve already blocked your number. And for the record, you're not welcome at the wedding. Neither of us want you there. Goodbye Partner.” Her bottom lip trembled, faltering for just a second, before collecting her bags and striding out of the door, leaving Zig rooted to the spot reeling. Fuck!

Part 7.

Tagging: @zigortega4life @emerald-bijou @littlegreenmoo @krsnlove @choicesthot

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

Little Talks

They would be leaving for Spain tomorrow. Mike was looking forward to the trip for several reasons. One, it was yet another exotic international location that they’d have under their belt. Two, to add to that, it was the homeland of a good friend of theirs who probably would be all too happy to show them all the best points of interest. Three, it was another title defense, one that Mike felt pretty sure about. There was nothing they liked better than showing off in front of an audience, giving their fans what they wanted, and proving just why they were champions. The best part, Mike thought with a smile, was doing all these things with him. They’d made the most of their time off- training physically and mentally, sure, but also doing other things- they’d bought a Christmas tree and decorated it together, strung up a pretty respectable light display outside (even wrapping the ring ropes in multi-colored fairy lights), and Mike had done some early season baking. Not just because they enjoyed the season immensely, but well… Mike knew it’d been over two decades since their beloved partner had a good Christmas, or a Christmas at all. They wanted it to be everything a good holiday season should be, something to make up for all he’d missed out on through no fault of his own. And as soon as the last bits of work for the year were done with, Mike was looking forward to just that time alone to enjoy it with him. They were really starting to cherish that- just time alone in their own home in each other’s company, with nothing to do but just be. And that’s how they were now on a December evening, a nice rainbow-tinged ambience in the living room from the lights on the tree and outside. The TV was on but Mike wasn’t really paying attention to it, far more interested in the person they were nestled on the couch with, tucked comfortably under his arm. “Hey.” They tilted their head up, an easy, relaxed smile on their face, the tone of their voice matching. “You all ready for next week?”

John flinched out of whatever headspace he had delved into. Thinking about nothing in particular.

“I guess.”

He thought about the luggage he packed last night.

“Yeah.”

“You excited? I’ve never been to Spain before. Heh, truth told, I’ve never been to most of the places we’ve been. When I was back in Florida we more or less stayed put, and none of the other places I worked had much means to travel far.” Their fingertips idly ran themselves along his arm, a soft hum buzzing at their lips.

“I don’t mind it.”

He paused.

“Sometimes it's overwhelming. Don’t think I could do it alone.”

“That’s why we’re a team. I’m always gonna have your back. I wouldn’t want to do all this stuff any other way either, you know.” Their hand slid downward, resting on the back of his much larger one but taking care not to slip in the gaps- they’d learned by now that he didn’t like interlaced fingers. Mike didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter- if it was something he didn’t like, that’s all they needed to know. “I called ahead for Honors, by the way. Got us the same beach house we had last time. I know we won’t be staying in California as long as before, but I kinda liked having our own little place on the ocean not connected to like a billion other fucking rooms and stuff. And after that… I dunno about you, but in my opinion it’ll be nice to just stay at home for a while and not worry about anything.”

As strange as this seems, John had decided that he was okay with their movements. There was less and less of that jolt to the senses when Mike touched him unexpectedly. He understood the intent. That awkward progression was better left unspoken. So he just let it happen. And sometimes, like in this case, reciprocated with a like touch.

“Just us this time.” “Yeah. Nobody else. Just me and you and the ocean. You don’t gotta boogieboard with me this time though.” Mike laughed, green eyes twinkling in the low light, and snuggled a little closer against his side. “I like the people we work with. Mostly. I like that we’re mending things with people we may’ve got in misunderstandings with. I like our friends. But I think I like it best when it’s just you and me, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

There was a silence between them as John paid a small bit of attention to the aesthetics of a town car making a corner in a closed off course. Anything to not pick up on the nonverbal cues being emitted.

“I like it here best.”

“Me too. Heh. I used to kind of hate it here, to be honest. I mean it’s a nice place to live but it wasn’t New York and I resented it cuz being here meant I’d settled for less than what I really wanted and couldn’t even fucking afford to go home. That was before you came. Now that you’re here I don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else. Not even New York. Cuz I don’t think you’d like it there as much.” They shifted a little.

“I want you to be happy more’n anything. Almost anything. I mean this is gonna sound kinda dumb, but if I can be with you an’ make you happy’s you deserve to be, that’s all I really want. Everything else is gravy, y’know?” Their left hand is on his shoulder now, their right on top of it, their gaze tilted up at their partner’s face. His eyes met theirs.

“Yeah.”

Something bubbled up in his mind. It was a surreal notion to make.

“Sometimes it wasn’t so bad. It was just my life. I mean, I don’t want to go back. Maybe I shouldn’t have been there.”

He closed his eyes briefly.

“I never got why. But a lot of times, it was just me. That was okay.”

The wheels were turning and he wasn’t too sure what he was trying to say. In the quiet of their home, he confessed after the millionth time of not getting across his point.

“I feel like sometimes I’m not right.”

“Hmm. I think you’re perfect just like you are. Like I’ve said before, I like that you aren’t like anybody else. You’re different. Different than anybody else I’ve ever met. That ain’t bad. And it don’t mean that you ain’t right or there’s anything wrong with you. Just means you’re not the same as everybody. But I like you better than everybody.” Their expression was all but completely enamored- most people would take one look at Mike and see someone utterly, helplessly in love, and wanting to express that love in full, unabashed ways that may or may not involve chocolate syrup. One hand slips from his shoulder, resting on his chest instead, the Bronx brawler sighing softly at the steady feel of his heartbeat.

“That’s why I like you, too.” “I want to show you how much.” Scootching up, they kissed his jawline. They’d done it before, but things had moved forward since then. Maybe this time, after all the little forward progress they’d made…

He froze at first.

And then relaxed. His hands sat rigid where they were however.

He inhaled, closed his eyes, and let Mike advance. They kissed him again, gently cupping his cheek in their free hand, their other tucked around his shoulders as best they could without their cast making things awkward. They kissed him on the mouth a couple more times, almost as if they couldn’t get enough of it, before planting another on his lower jaw, then one at his throat. A significant blush was tinting their cheeks a shade of rose that, though they would’ve denied it, was rather cute, especially mingled with their freckles. “You can touch me if you want to, y’know…” Their chuckle was soft, somewhat breathless, teasing but not mean. Encouraging, even. John’s outside hand trembled just over their side. Mike’s hand went over his and like a guide, settled it on the side of their breast. Wordlessly, Mike nodded and their hand squeezed his in the hopes of imitation. Moving their hand away, they rest it again on his chest before slowly, almost daringly moving downward. Their fingers brushed against the front of his jeans, fingers fiddling with the button on his fly. Their heart was pounding, but then they paused. They could feel John’s hand on their breast, shaking like a leaf. He was allowing this, but nothing in his body language was reciprocal. They sighed softly, pulling back but not away entirely. “...John? This is gonna sound like a stupid question, but… do you even like me? I mean, I know you do, but I mean like… are you even attracted to me at all? I’m a mess, I know I am…” He’d said he liked how they looked. Said they had a warrior’s body. But there was a big difference between finding something aesthetically nice and being attracted to it. John wanted to clear and concise in his response but he fumbled all over his words. Until-

“I am.”

But his hand moved down to their hand and halted it. Not in any way that was brazen but with a soft touch. But still a barrier between Mike and an encroaching darkness he never wanted to be enveloped in again. That thought was wrong. But its effects still lingered after all this time. And not just that. Before, too.

With all of his strength and with the knowledge that he has once again has disappointed someone, he continued.

“And I just need your help.”

With what, he wasn’t sure. It was always some boogeyman. A voice in the vent. Never correlated to the obvious. A never defined boy shattered and trapped within the limitations of his mind. Unable to answer a simple question. Two adults doing what adults do and he can’t seem to get it right. What’s right, he wondered. Because it never seemed right before either.

“And I’m not sure what that means. But I won’t go anywhere.”

“Neither will I.”

Mike gave him one more kiss, more reassuring than longing this time, and moved off his lap after, but only to re-settle in that comfortable place at his side.

“Don’t worry. We’ll work this out. Whatever you need, however I can help you, you know I will. Promise.”