#mask its summertime time for your life to get worse again!

[finrad]

Is It Love - Finrod x Reader

This one is like 3k words and it took me forever to write and I'm proud of it.

Warning: It's kind of an emotional rollercoaster???

0o0o0

Finrod Felagund. The fairest and most beautiful elf in all of Arda, in your eyes. And yet he seems to choose to be drawn to you. A simple and plain elf that happens to live in Nargothrond. You were very drawn to Finrod. His blue eyes, his voice, and his golden hair are like a giant magnet while you were a piece of metal, slowly attaching to the king.

The way Finrod looked at you was different than the way you looked at him. You gave him sweet and gentle glances, while he gave flirty looks that continue to drag you to him. He looks at you with a gleam in his eye and as if he were a lion, ready to catch its prey. And you didn't seem to figure out what he was doing to you.

Some nights, you would have Finrod at your side, as gently whispered some cold elvish phrases into your ears. Phrases that were so full of lust or love and came out as smooth as silk. You couldn't believe that such a king would fall for you.

Other nights, you lay in bed alone, thinking about the bitterness of the world. Heartbreak, death, and all that junk. These nights were the ones where you felt incredibly overwhelmed. Your weariness was sometimes very visible, as many have noted that you appear to be tired or worn out.

"It was, but you need to realize that I don't want it to be like this." Your lips turned in a frown, and you were looking down. To hide the shimmering tears that slid down your face. "You see, I want to have a relationship with love in it. I don't want this... whatever this is. I want you."

Perhaps having someone at your side assuring you that it will all be fine helped you not feel cold and afraid. Finrod had always made you feel fine, but little did you know that he was playing games, and slightly toying with you. Not in a horrific way that will kill you, but in a way that confused you. A way that hid his feelings. A way that led you into him, and think the wrong things. Boy was he good.

Finrod's words always led you to think that you're in total love and someday you'll be wedded to him. Whether or not that was the intention of the king, you had to figure out. People have told you things that you weren't too sure about. They said that the king was baiting you in with sweet kisses and gentle words, and you were soon to be reeled into an ugly game of love and lust.

Obviously, the words of the others made you question this romance you have with Finrod. Was it all a lie? Was all of this just good fun or was it love that was endearing and true? Elves weren't for these types of things, so this whole experience was weird for you.

One day, you decided that you had no choice but to confront Finrod about everything that has ever happened between you. That is, until you fall into his arms and he'll kiss you in such a tender way. This madness was making your head spin. Why, out of all of the elves, whether they be in Valinor or on Middle-earth, did this have to be on your hands? Who decided that this is to be your life?

"Finrod?" you squeaked, the moment you laid eyes on him today. "There must be a discussion between us. About what we are." The king was tall and mighty, and you were slightly intimidated by his power. Never have you been this scared. At this point, you wanted to simply melt and not have to go through this.

"What do you think we are?" Finrod asked, his smooth voice trailing you in. As he spoke, you got closer to him, until your chest was against his. Here goes nothing.

"I-I don't know." you answered. "That's why I'm asking you. I'm not too sure if–" Your words were cut off by a kiss. One that was passionate. Instead of separating from him to continue speaking, you melted into the kiss. And that was something you regretted doing.

Finrod moved away just a hair and whispered, "Isn't this just plain fun? To me, this is you and I, having a wonderful time."

What does this mean? Before you could ponder any longer, Finrod placed his lips against yours and now he's the only one you can think about. People were watching this happen, which caused you to be nervous. This had to stop.

Quickly making a new distance, you said, "Finrod, so is this not love?" The king smirked and shrugged.

"That is up for interpretation." he replied. So this all must be a lie. It's secretly lust hidden behind a mask. You couldn't go on any longer. What's the point of being with him if he was going to continue to not truly love you. At the moment, you felt tricked; deceived. Finrod never looked like somebody who was like this. He seemed like the kind of person who would love somebody, and never lie about it.

Leaning in to continue to kiss you, Finrod placed his arm around your waist. You were no longer going to be tangled up in this mess any longer. So, you decided to push him away and cross your arms. You wanted this to be serious. You wanted you and Finrod to be real. But it didn't seem to be that.

"What was that for?" the king asked, his voice more childish. You've never heard him talk like this. "Didn't you like this? Wasn't it all fun?"

"Of course." you told him, now wrapping your hands around his neck. Then, Finrod kissed you sweetly, as the fireflies danced with the flowers. Instead of the feeling of regret and intoxication that you used to get from his kisses, you got the feeling of pure and electric love. Your heart fluttered, and his lips had a taste that you haven't had for a long, long time.

"You do have me, though." Finrod retorted. "You have had me since the days we first met, in the gardens while the moon was out."

That day was seemingly the best day of your life. Fireflies danced around the two of you, and the flowers were fully bloomed, ready to be picked. In that moment, you felt that Finrod was the one. Yet now, you weren't so sure. In fact, now, you were convinced that there wasn't a person for you. After falling into this, you never wanted to love again.

"I don't believe you." you told Finrod, with a stern tone. "Right now, it's best if we don't kiss or stay together. Come back to me when you learn how to love."

Although it was late at night, you decided to go drink some wine to wash the sadness away. No one was going to join you. You didn't want to cry with a friend, you wanted to cry alone in the dark and wake up with a fuzzy memory of it all. At home, you brought out a small bottle and began to drink. 

This day is the worst one ever. Just now, you had found out that the elf that supposedy loved you in fact didn't love you. He probably never did. Sniffles and sobs could be heard from your room. Please say that nobody is nearby, listening to this whole fiasco. If somebody listened in and mentions it later, you'd be so embarrassed to the point that you'd flee from this place.

Approximately an hour ticked by. You had one too many glasses of wine. A knock came to your door, and you decided to open the door. Your fingers were tingling, and you felt as if you could drop to the floor and wake up hours later with a tiny headache.

It was Finrod, at your door. With a small flower in his hand. What did he want? He can't have learned to love now. It has only been an hour or two since you broke things off with him. The two of you were over now.

"Mae govannen." said Finrod. "I have come here to say that I love you." His hands went to your shoulders and he went in for a kiss. Falling into his game once more, you began to kiss him, the feeling of shame and pleasure in you. You fell for him again, but it felt wonderful. The taste of his lips sent you on a ride.

Soon, your hands dug into his gorgeous hair. It was perfect, not a single knot on it. Kissing Finrod was so wrong. All of this was wrong. You moved away, speechless. What have you done?

"I..." you hesitated. One wrong word and then you'll find yourself in a sticky situation. "love you." Oh, for goodness' sake. That was not the right thing to say. And the next thing you know, you find yourself kissing the tall king of Nargothrond.

The next morning, you woke up next to Finrod. This was not what you wanted. You went to fix your hair and change your clothes. And so you did that, wanting to get out without waking Finrod up.

Out you were, hoping that you wouldn't run into Finrod again. If you did, you knew that you were going to be in his grasp. He always cared for his people, but you felt that he made an exception for you. No, he didn't mistreat you. He just slightly took advantage of you. This side of the king was one that only you have seen with your very eyes. Because only one who end up in love with him could see it.

If only he loved you. If only you lived happily with him, and every single "I love you" was true. But, life always gives people obstacles to go over. And you struggled to get over this one.

Right now, you craved his love. You craved just one taste of what he is like to one that he truly loves. Not even a full experience. Just a single taste. He stayed on your mind, and you wished to never think of him. But then again, you wanted to think about him.

Nobody around you noticed that you were struggling. All they saw was a happy face that you put on to make sure that everyone assumed that you were fine. You wanted to handle this alone, and if anyone learned of your sadness, the whole kingdom will end up knowing thanks to gossip.

The skies were blue and the sun high. Currently, it was laer, which was the elvish name for what humans call summer. Usually, people associate this season with sunshine, joy, and warmth. However, you were feeling as if dark clouds were above your head. You felt cold and broken.

Curse that elf that broke your heart. He ruined your laer. Instead of being happy with him and enjoying a life under the Sun, you had a case of some summertime sadness. Right now, a kiss from Finrod would cheer you up, but not in this case. It would only make things worse.

Why was he still on your mind? It's not like you wanted him anymore. Images of the old times where you and Finrod seemed to be in love flashed by. If only they were made by genuine love. But instead, they were made by a false love that you weren't aware of.

It was going to be long time until you want to even look at Finrod again. And what sucked is that you lived under his rule, you had to see him. There is no other option. You didn't want to run away. Kinslayings had recently happened, and darkness was upon this world. You didn't want to put yourself at risk. Chances are, you'd get killed if you did. And you didn't want to die. Death was not an option.

Later, you realized that you needed to head home, or else you might end up running into Finrod. At home, you told yourself to never answer the door if there is a knock. Risks could not be taken now. If you took a risk, you would end up harming yourself.

***

Days have passed since you spoke to Finrod. Leaves were beginning to fall from trees and the air was beginning to get cooler. You lived in peace, and you were happy. No more tears, no more sadness. Or so you thought.

Secretly, you desired for Finrod to come back. A desire burned brightly inside of you. You wanted him to love you. To treat you with care and shower you with affection. Because you had this desire, you spent days staring at a portrait of him. Longing for his love. You said that you never wanted to see him again, but you were lying to yourself.

Tonight, you ran outside under the pale moonlight, wearing a white gown that you believed to be your favorite one. To the gardens you went, to secretly weep and dance. You were happy, until you found your longing for Finrod to be so strong that you couldn't contain yourself.

While you danced, you felt a cold hand on your shoulder. A hand that gave you memories of the past. One that reminded you of love and heartbreak. Whose hand was it? It was none other than Finrod's. He stood behind you, standing with his back slouched and with a painful frown.

"We meet again." you said. "I haven't spoken to you in months."

"I know. And I don't like that." Finrod told you. He looked at you with a face that you have never seen before. One that you saw your parents give each other every day. "Let me explain myself to you, please."

"No." you sternly stated. "I know that you'll say that you love me and then we'll go through this insane cycle again." Finrod tried to continue talking, but instead, you ran away from him. You can't trust him now, no matter how much you love him.

Oh, Valar, did you want him. You wanted him to tell you that he loves you again. Even if he didn't mean it... What are you thinking? That thought was absolutely absurd. Maybe you do need to talk to somebody about this crazy mess that you and Finrod made.

To vent out your issues, you decided to talk to your friend. She was a kind elleth who would understand and be caring. You knew that she was the right choice. This was actually the first time you've ever vented to a friend. People have said that it feels nice to get everything off of your chest, so you hoped they were right.

"Hello, what would you like to talk about, mellon nin?" your friend asked you.

"It's about Finrod. I need to get this off my chest." you answered. "Well, we kind of split up like months ago... and today he came back telling me that he loves me."

"Why did you two break up?"

"He didn't really love me, and I didn't want to be in a relationship without love."

"Then he doesn't deserve you. Even if he is a king, don't take him back. You deserve to be loved." You figured that she was right, but what if Finrod loved you now?

"I think he does deserve me though..." you said. "Recently, I have been longing for him, and I'm not sure what to do."

"I'd say to go with your heart." Your friend flashed a smile. "If your heart tells you that he is definitely the one, then it's most likely true."

You took your friend's advice and thought about it. Thinking about it all day made you really want to see Finrod again. He's irresistible, honestly, like an appealing dessert sitting right in front of you. It was bad for you, but you wanted it. Or was he bad for you? There is a chance that he's what you need.

The next night, you figured that you have made a decision. Hopefully, you won't regret it. Because there might not be going back. There might be a chance that you won't be able to change your mind. You were nervous, for you didn't know what the future had for you. This choice could change your future. It could help or hurt it, depending on how Finrod feels. You wanted this choice to help your future.

That night, you went to the gardens to wait for Finrod. You had a gut feeling that he'd be coming back, to find you alone and dancing in the dark under the pale light of the moon. Tonight could be the best or worst night you've ever had.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, you saw Finrod coming in from the distance. Goodness, was he handsome. His blond hair that he inherited from his father, Finarfin, was the best hair you've ever seen. He told you once that his sister, Galadriel, probably had the best hair out of his family, but you think that he is wrong. But, who knows, perhaps she does have the best hair, and you are yet to see it.

The king called your name in a desperate tone. The look on his face screamed "I'm utterly in love." Once he made it to your side, you pursed your lips, preparing to tell him what you needed to say. You were so nervous, though. You were as nervous as you were on the day you first told Finrod that you loved him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your legs were shaking.

Now, the sky was decorated with beautiful little stars that shine bright along with the moon. You now wore a red gown, while Finrod wore a grey gown. Both of you had your hair loose, flying with the soft wind. Flowers were underneath your feet, swaying as the wind blew.

You took Finrod's hands and saw that little fireflies surrounded you. They danced in the night while the two of you spoke. This moment felt so magical, as if it were straight out of a fairy tale. Fairy tales weren't really your thing, but you were glad to feel as if you're living in one.

"Listen to me..." you hesitated. "I would like you to speak the truth and only the truth. If I catch a lie in whatever you are saying, we will never speak again. Do you love me?"

"Of course I do." Finrod replied. "I lied to you back when we were together, but that was because I didn't take things slow enough with you. I let things happen too fast."

A smile tugged on your lips. "Do you care to prove it? I don't wish for another crazy mess to happen again."

"Well, you're never off my mind. You stay in there, dancing with your hair flying in the wind. I want to love and hold you for as long as I live. No longer do I want to use you and trick you." he said. "I now know what it means to love. I know how love feels. And I feel love for you."

"Hey, Finrod?" you said. The king gave you a small nod. "I believe you. And I love you as well."

"So can we start again, and correctly this time?" he asked, feeling a little hopeful.

Ever since that day, you found the side of Finrod that he shows to his lover. The side that you have always wanted to see since the day you met him. Boy, was life great.

[pendragonfics]

the heat

Paring: Clint Barton/Reader

Tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns used for reader, summer, hot, moving out, light angst

Summary: It’s too hot to cope, and your boyfriend Clint isn’t the best roommate. 

Word Count: 1,485

Current Date: 2020-06-14

Summertime never came easily. There were either cold days, and then hot days, and no in-between. But then, once the heat had hit, it was there to stay. And stay it did: it lingered like a bad smell that remained with a vengeance. It didn’t help that Clint Barton’s apartment was most certainly not up to code, and all of this heat made its home in his home. If only you’d taken up the Avengers’ offer of living in the tower in Manhattan, and not rent-free in Clint’s trashy studio apartment that had rats, no insulation and terrible water pressure. 

At least you didn’t live in a location often targeted by any of the team’s arch-nemesis. 

Right now, you’re struggling to get up from the couch. It’s from the goodwill, has a perpetual stickiness to it, and has you now stuck to it in a layer of sweat. At least from the couch, you can scroll through your feed and charge your phone relatively unencumbered -- of course, despite the lack of air conditioning. From the other side of the living area, Clint sits at the dinner table, fiddling with his arrows. Somehow, he’s not as affected by the heat as you. 

While you look like a melting popsicle, he’s the sort of hot that makes his body glisten rather than melt into the polyethylene around the place. His phone, a cracked smartphone that sends janky emojis, plays the radio and he hums along to it. If you push yourself up on your elbows, you can see he’s smiling and humming along to the music while he makes a mess of his arrows. If the heat wasn’t so cloying in your mind, you might think of him as a sex god, or a complete himbo (or honestly, how he’s both of those simultaneously). But seeing him so unaffected makes you feel worse. 

“How can you…” you whimper, falling back on your back, the pool of sweat-slick as you slip into it once more. “Ugh, you’re too perfect.” 

“Hmm?” he looks your way. “What?” 

“I can’t deal with this,” you moan. Clicking off your phone, you struggle to make your body obey your commands and getting up, you look at your practically perfect boyfriend. “It’s too damn hot!” 

“Ever since that mission to that active Icelandic volcano, the heat just doesn’t get to me,” he boasts cluelessly, going on with his business. Taking a trick arrow, the signal-jamming one, he flicks the switch on. His phone stops playing the music, and panicking, he switches the arrow back off. He looks back to you, and seeing that you haven’t spoken or moved, frowns, “Babe?” 

You shake your head, and with little strength, stalk off to the bathroom. Perhaps a cold shower can fix the drowsiness. But when you get in there, you’re met with an ungodly mess. How was the man you love allowed to be an adult, let alone an Avenger? 

Turning on your heel, incensed, you grab your bag. Grumbling about his obsession with the putty arrow under your breath, you shove your flip flops on. You don’t look his way, and throwing things into your duffle that’s usually for longterm away missions, within five minutes you’re in rideshare on your way to the tower. 

Either the heat is just too much, but when you get out and access the entry to the once-Stark Tower, there’s little to no fans or press gathering there, to which you’re glad. There’s no way that your armpit stains were presentable enough for a pic in the gossip rag. But once you get into the Tower, there’s a feeling that comes over yourself; relief or orgasm, it’s heavenly. 

Thank Thor’s father that Stark spared no expense with his state of the art thermostat. 

Once you make it to the level assigned for team meetings and such, you’re sure feeling like life has come back into your body. Dumping your duffle on the empty oval table, you stalk toward the minifridge by the wall of windows and take out a bottle of water. 

“Is there a mission I missed the briefing for?” 

You choke on the mouthful of ice-cold water, and spluttering, turn to see Sam Wilson standing in the doorway. He’s wearing his own Captain America t-shirt merch under a jean jacket and laughs as you wipe the water off your front. 

“You ass,” you cough, but he doesn’t react. Taking a moment, you look at the duffle, and back to Sam. “...I can’t believe I only lasted two weeks there.” 

“To be fair, that man is used to worse places to hang his jacket,” He raises a brow, and coming further into the room, takes a good look at you. “No, yeah, I see just why you’re here…” he laughs, “your sweat patches have sweat patches.” 

“Stop it,” you moan. “...I’m in a proper mess.” 

“Do I look like someone who can help with your love life?” he asks, deadpan. “Look, ______. It’s on you that you moved in too quickly with the team’s resident disaster.” 

You agree. As you take a moment to centre yourself, Sam goes to his usual seat at the table and takes a seat sideways so his legs are over the armrests. You take a deep breath and place the water bottle on the table, and then start to rummage around in the duffle for your phone. Your hand touches everything else but your phone; your gym clothes, a sleep mask, the tee-shirt that Clint let you steal that has gosh I love arrows in writing across the chest. But no phone. 

“It’s on the -,” you sigh, and turning to Sam, ask, “Can I borrow your phone?”

He looks over. “No,” he says, but slides it your way. 

“I owe you so much,” you tell him, and type in your number, calling your phone. Apart from the jingles in advertisements and your parent’s landline, you can’t remember Clint’s number beyond the first two digits. “Name the favour, and I’ll do it no matter how big…” 

“Just call your boyfriend so I can go back to playing my phone game,” he teases. 

Clint picks up on the second ring, and answers, “Sam! I know you’re cheating on me with ______!” 

You can’t help but laugh. “Clint! No, it’s me. I’m at the tower.” 

“Huh,” he says. “...are you cheating on me?” he asks. 

“No!” you sigh and palm your forehead. “Clint, no. I - I love you.” He’s quiet on his side of the phone line. Maybe it’s because this whole thing is unprecedented, or because neither of you has ever said the l word before about each other. Taking his silence as a good thing, you add, “but I can’t live with you anymore. It’s just so...hard to live there.” 

“I love you too,” he says, quietly. 

For a moment, both he and you are silent, and you feel a small thing in your chest; whether it’s sadness or a tinge of hope, you’re not sure. But it’s growing with every second that you can’t find the words to say what you need. 

“I - I’ll move places. We’ll get a nicer apartment, with no rats and good water pressure. Closer to the water. I have the money for it,” he says. 

“Clint, I can’t live with you,” you say again. “I’m moving into the Tower.”

“Is this…” he says, and quietly, asks you, “Is this you breaking up with me?” 

“No, no…” you murmur. “No. No, Clint, I love you. I just can’t live with you right now. Especially with this heat, and the way you leave a mess all over the place, and I really - I think we need some time living apart. But no, gosh no, I’m still into you. Big time.” 

“Big-time?” he repeats, and for a second, you wish that you could see his face. God, he was stupid, but beautiful, a skilled Avenger but a child at heart and soul. “Okay, um, okay. I’ll bring your stuff over next time I can, your phone too.” 

“I’m sorry about how I handled all this,” you tell him. “I’m...you know all this relationship stuff is new to me.” 

“Yeah,” he sounds like he’s smiling as he says, “Don’t worry. I’ll be the best boyfriend that doesn’t live with you that you can ever have.” 

You smile. “Thanks, Clint.” 

“You betcha, babe.” He says, and with a few more words, hangs up. 

You look over to Sam, but he’s not sitting over where he was. You can’t see him at all, and when you look down at his phone, you realise that the last time it was used before you got it, was yesterday. 

“...I gotta get my powers in check,” you mutter, putting the phone down. Gathering your duffle, you move back to the elevator, and start the process of setting up yourself for your new life in the Tower. 

[jubilantwriter]

Jaspvid Week 2020:  Day 4 - Hurt/Comfort

(AO3)  @jaspvid-week

get ready for a gratuitous amounts of capslock 

Remember When They Were Bad Friends in Canon?  Well- NEVER HAPPENED.  Aha!  Oho!

Summary:  David was never good at the whole sleeping thing.  He’s been working on it, honest!  And he’s been getting better at it, even if there are some places he’s better at sleeping with than others.  But sometimes... sometimes when he falls asleep, all he wants to do is wake up.

Word Count: 3148

WARNINGS:  PTSD, Graphic Descriptions of Wounds (just to be safe)

David knows that dreams aren't real.  That the chronic nightmares that plagued his sleep as a child were nothing but the result of his fears and anxieties left unchecked and unacknowledged for so long.  He thought he'd gotten over that part of his life - sure, he still had bouts of insomnia every once in a while, especially at Camp Campbell, but he'd very rarely suffered from nightmares that had him waking up screaming bloody murder.  And it's all very rare indeed!  Gwen has only needed to wake him up a few times throughout their time working together.  

He really thought that he was finally okay.  That's what he thinks, when he looks down at hands covered in an inky red before looking back up to see Jasper, hunched over with hands trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

Jasper's bleeding.

Pained blue eyes, wide with fear as light fades fast from them, stare deep into David's own horrified greens.  

"Davey," he gasps out, before collapsing to his knees.  

"Jasper!"  He lurches forward and catches his boyfriend in his arms, and it's just a dream, just a dream, just a dream-

"You have to run!"  Jasper shoves David away as best as he can, already wheezing as blood continues to drip down his chest.  Long, deep gashes that look worse than they did years ago reveal themselves to David through a shredded t-shirt and it's just a dream just a dream just a dream-

"I'm not leaving you here!"  David grabs Jasper as he slumps forward, and it's just a dream just a dream just a DREAM-

His hands feel wet and slick and sticky and red red red-

NO.

Just a DREAM just A DREAM IT'S JUST A DREAM-

But he feels warmth, Jasper feels warm, he feels warm and wet and cold and wet and the wet feels warm and Jasper feels cold and Jasper is solid, solid in his arms and heavy and David can feel his body heave with every desperate gasp every pained shudder every wet cough-

JUST A DREAM!

JUST A DREAM JUST A DREAM JUST A DREAM JUST A DREAM-

BUT WHY DOES IT FEEL SO REAL?

His vision swims and swirls and spins and he can't see there's tears falling from his eyes real tears streaming down his cheeks as he cradles Jasper's weak body and he hears every little "plip" and every little "plop" his tears make as they land on Jasper's face-

Jasper's face Jasper's pale face Jasper's dying face and David begs begs begs to wake up, please wake up he wants to WAKE!  UP!

He doesn't want to feel like he's losing his boyfriend like he's watching the same scene replay over and over again like he's letting things repeat like he's let this happen before one time two times three million times and he doesn't want to FEEL THIS ANYMORE!

HE DOESN'T WANT TO SEE THIS ANYMORE!

WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP BLOOD ON HIS HANDS BLOOD ON HIS CHEST AND IT'S REAL AND WET AND OH GOD PLEASE WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP THIS ISN'T REAL THIS CAN'T BE REAL HE DOESN'T WANT THIS TO BE REAL WAKE-

"-UP!"  A deluge of cold water hits his face and he screams, log tossed into the air as Gwen steps back.  "David, shit!"

"I- huh- whu-?"  He pants heavily, looking wildly around the room as he tries to get his bearings.  And then he remembers blood on his hands and blood on his chest-

"Jasper- Jasper!  I have to- I gotta-"

"Woah woah woah!"  Gwen catches him just as he tumbles out of bed.  "David, deep breaths!"  Com on, with me now.  In, out..."  She guides him through a breathing exercise, calming him down just enough for David to finally make sense of where he is.

He breathes in, and he recognizes the cabin he’s in, and where this cabin is.

Camp Campbell.

He breathes out, and feels the heat all around him, hears the crickets, and recognizes what those all mean to him.

It's summertime.

And as he steadies his breathing, all his thoughts connect back to a crucial bit of information.

Jasper's at their apartment, waiting for him to come back.

Jasper's alive.  And well.  And far far far away from the forest, away from bears, away from childhood memories that still struck fear in both their hearts.

"What..."  He blinks blearily, looking out the window and realizing just how dark the sky is.  Or still is, rather.  "What time is it?"

"Three am."  Gwen rubs her temples, exhausted and sleep-deprived.  Whoops.  That was definitely his fault.  "You were shouting- well, screaming, in your sleep.  It was damn near impossible to wake you."  He looks down to see the mud-caked slippers she still has on and winces.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize."  She waves off his guilty look but quickly grows concerned again when his shoulders still droop.  "...Listen.  I called Jasper."  

"You WHAT?"  Though peeved at his shriek, she gestures for him to settle down.  

"Fucking relax, you weren't waking up and I thought he'd have some idea for how I could wake you.  He suggested the cold water.  The bucket was all me."  David blinks before remembering that, oh right, he's currently drenched.  Gwen tosses him a towel before he can start shivering.  Just like Gwen to be prepared like this.

Although he wishes she didn't have to be prepared for this kind of situation.

"Are you gonna call him?"  Gwen watches as he dries his hair, towel now resting on his shoulders as he looks to his phone.  The device sits unplugged, probably from Gwen yanking it from its charger in her desperation to find a way to wake David.

His very instinct is to dial up Jasper's number, but the time of night makes him hesitate.

"I... probably shouldn't."  Though the thought of hearing Jasper's voice, just to hear him breathe and sigh and affirm and reaffirm that he was okay and that it really all was just a horrible nightmare, he thinks about how Jasper also gets up early in the morning to drive to work.  If he calls him now, would the brunette even have enough time to sleep?  What if he crashes his car because he stood up all night talking with and worrying over David?  Jasper shouldn't have to risk that just because David had a nightmare.  "It's late and- he needs his sleep.  He has to wake up in like, four hours."

"Don't think your boyfriend will be sleeping tonight."  Gwen sits on her bed with a tired plop.  "He heard you screaming and was about to drive over here."

"What?!"  David leaps up from his bed and lunges for his phone.  "He can't do that!  I have to make sure he stays home-"  His speed dial calls up Jasper in a second and he listens to the rings anxiously.  "He has work in the morning, and if he comes here, he won't have any sleep AND he won't have any time to drive back-!"

"I know."  Gwen's smirk graces her lips just as Jasper picks up.  "That's why I convinced him to stay home already."

"Hello?"  David's mind blanks as Jasper's worried voice carries over from the speaker.  Of course Gwen took care of that already.  She puts in some earplugs and puts on an eye mask, already turning onto her side to resume sleeping as he struggles to create words.  "Davey?  Is that you?"

"A-ah."  Well, at least she's giving him some privacy.  That's nice of her, at least.  "I.  Um."

"It's okay, take your time."  Jasper's voice soothes him from miles away, and it's enough to get him to relax just a bit.

"...Right."  He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose, exhaling from his mouth and repeating.  Jasper remains quiet, but David can hear his breathing from his side.  And it's.  It reminds him of where he is, and that everything is fine here.  It was just a dream.  "Hey, Jasp."

"Sup, homeslice."  David sits with his back against the headrest, arm hugging his knees to his chest as he listens to every sound of Jasper he can catch.  "You doing alright?"

"More or less."  He laughs weakly.  "It was just- just a bad dream.  A really bad one."  

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I..."  Large gashes that span Jasper's chest flash in his mind.  Had they gone lower when he was first mauled by those bears...  He sucks in a breath and blinks hard, willing the tears to stay at bay.  "I don't think I can, sorry."

"That's okay."  Jasper assures him gently, and he wishes, really wishes, that Jasper was here with him right now.  It's not the first time he wishes his bed was tucked away in a corner of the room, and not just pressed against the wall.  If only so he could feel some approximation of a hug.  "...You want me to drive up there?"

"Don't do that."  Even though he desperately wants him here.  "Y-you have your job to worry about, and there's the bills and rent to pay-."

"I can take a day off, get my shift covered.  Wouldn't hurt to use up a little bit of my PTO."

"It was just a bad dream, you don't have to-."

"David."  Jasper's voice is firm but still maintains that gentleness he's held since they were kids.  "It wasn't just a bad dream."

"...Y-yeah."

"Bud, are you crying?"

"I'm not."  He sniffs and scrunches his brows together.  "...Okay, maybe a little."

"...I'm driving up there."

"No!"  David doesn't need to be there to imagine the shock on Jasper's face.  "Don't- don't come here.  Please.  Please.  Stay home."  His voice shakes and breaks as he speaks, and he's imagining Jasper in the forest, Jasper facing a bear, Jasper bleeding out and hurt-

"Shhh, okay, okay, I won't."  A gasp escapes him and, dang, he really is sobbing now.  "I'm sorry, I won't come."  He hears the distress in Jasper's voice and immediately panics.

"It's not because I don't want you here!"  He tries to wipe away his tears, but they keep coming, and god, god, he wishes Jasper was here.  Jasper could easily make his tears go away with his kisses and hugs, but Jasper being here is the last thing either of them need.  "It's just- you know, you left Camp Campbell for a reason.  And I'm not going to force you to come back here."  Just because I want you here, he thinks to himself.

"You're not forcing me to come over there but..."  He hears Jasper's weary sigh and imagines the brunette running his fingers through his hair.  "...Is this about your nightmare?"

"I..."

His hesitation is enough for Jasper.

"Okay."  The soft understanding is clear in his voice.

"Sorry."  He mumbles into the phone, feeling like an idiot.  "It's dumb- I'm dumb, I wasn't even the one who got hurt- it was you, but I'm sitting here waking everyone up because of a stupid nightmare and I wasn't even the victim, it was you and-"

"Hey hey, wanna slow down for me?"  Jasper's gentle tone has him stop long enough to breathe.  "What's this about me being the victim?"

"...You know.  The... bear attack."  There's a sharp inhale from the other side.  "It's just- it really shouldn't be me, right?  I shouldn't be the one getting nightmares about this, I don't even have the right to, I'm just-"

"You got some heavy thoughts bouncing around your headspace, my guy."  Despite David's words, Jasper still manages to chuckle.  "Listen man, what happened that day... affected both of us differently."

"...Mmmgh."

There's a creak from Jasper's side.  Like he's adjusting his position on the bed.  David closes his eyes and pretends for a second that Jasper's sitting next to him, one arm wrapped around him as he hugs him close.

"I'm not gonna lie - falling from a cliff and being attacked by bears was the most unwoke thing to have ever happened to me, like, ever."  David laughs a little, because of course Jasper would phrase it like that.  "I still hate nature, and I still hate that you're willing to go back to camp every year in spite of what happened.  But you got your own reasons.  Because that day changed you too."  He imagines Jasper leaning against him, pressing his head against David's as he lowers his tone, almost to a whisper.  "You saw me die nearly twice.  Once, when you couldn't save me from the cliff.  And the second time when you found me in the cave mauled and bleeding.  You saw my wounds and helped me back to camp.  You watched it all happen."

"Yeah, I sure did watch."  He grumbles into the phone and sighs.  "You were covered in scraps and scratches and then QM took your badge away because I used your shoes."

"To save me."  Jasper shifts again from the other side.  "Davey, you did way more than anyone else did for me that day.  And you were just a kid.  We were both kids, and you had to watch as someone your age nearly died because all the other adults barely did anything to help."  There's a slight hitch in Jasper's voice as he voices what David won't say.  "Maybe you’re not scared of bears like me, or even hate nature like me.  But Davey, that day made you so terrified of losing people.  Like, really losing them.  And that’s a real and justified and valid reaction to what happened, man.  Because you don't wanna see another kid fall from a cliff or come back covered in blood.  It messed you up real bad, even if you weren’t physically hurt like I was."

"I..."  David sighs as he thinks about what Jasper would be doing right now.  Kissing his temple?  Holding his hand?  Looking him in the eye while cupping his face?  Maybe all three, knowing his boyfriend.  "You sound a lot like my therapist."

"I'll take that as an 'I'm right' card then.  Just, don't beat yourself up just 'cause I'm the one with the physical scars.  It was a bad day for both of us.  Pretty sure if our roles were reversed, you'd be telling me not to beat myself over it too."

"I mean- yeah, I wouldn't want you to feel awful over something like this."

"Exactly."  A soft chuckle comes from Jasper as he jostles the phone.  "...Feeling better, Davey?"

"A little, yeah."  He smiles to himself as he cradles the phone close.  "I mean, as long as I can hear your voice, I think I'll be okay."

"What, just my voice?  You don't want the whole package deal?"  Jasper makes a wounded sound, drawing a small laugh from David.  "I thought you loved me!"

"I do love you, Jasp.  More than the whole world."

"...Aw, I'm blushing."  His laugh turns into a snort.  "Want a pic as evidence?  I think my selfie game is off the heezy now!"  

"As tempting as it is, I think I'll have to pass."  Jasper takes forever taking selfies.  Something about getting the angle right, then getting the right pose, then making the right face, then choosing the filters, and then he starts all over from scratch if he doesn't like it.  David would probably have passed out by the time Jasper manages to send even one selfie.  "I'd rather see you in person."  David continues to smile when he hears a soft squeak from Jasper.

...Wait.  Hold on.

"Is that an invitation?"

Oh hooey.

"No-"

"It's like, what, Friday today?  I can take the day off-"

"Jasp-"

"-It's no big deal, I'm good at faking being sick-"

"Jasp-"

"-Rent a room at that dank motel, it's a motel right?  All I know is that it's got rooms I can rent, and then we can be alone-"

"Jasper, oh my god!"  He covers his mouth to stifle his laugh, but the chortle comes out all the same.  "I still have to do my job!"

"Fair, fair.  But I can just wait for you.  Maybe sneak out during your lunch or something, give me a kiss on your breaks like I'm a prince waiting for a ride-by smooch from his knight in shining armor."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?"  He can easily picture Jasper wiggling his eyebrows on his face.  "Or am I just happy to hear you laugh?"

"Both."  His laughter subsides as it turns into a content hum.  "...I really love you, Jasp."

"I love you too, sunshine."  David giggles at the nickname as Jasper laughs along with him.  "I'll see you on the weekend then?"

"Alright."  It's not like he can stop Jasper once the man's made up his mind.  And... he really would like to see him again soon. 

"Most excellent, my dude."  

"Ah jeez."  He shakes his head as Jasper laughs again.  "I can't believe you're really coming up here."

"Anything to see your dorky smile."

"You're the dork!"  David rubs at his face, the little trails left by his tears now dried up and gone.  "...Um, Jasp?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks.  For.  Just talking with me."  He smiles against his knees, a light blush on his cheeks even if Jasper can't see him.  "It really means a lot to me."

"...Of course, Davey.  I know you'd do the same for me.  Hell, you already do!"  A sleepy smile matches the sweet laughter on the other side.  "It's getting late.  I'm gonna call in sick and take a nap.  You get some sleep too, alrighty?"

"Mhm."  Warmth blossoms in his chest as he gets up to grab his sleeping log.  "I can't wait to see you."

"Same, homey.  It's lonely without your goofiness to make things bright again."  

"Okay, I'm cutting this off before this continues any longer."  Jasper chuckles on his end before sighing.

"Right, have sweet dreams, Davey."

"You too, Jasp."

"That's easy when all I gotta do is think of you!"

"Jeez- good night, Jasper!"

"Night, Davey!"

He hangs up the call, a soft smile on his face as he giggles to himself.

Right.

It was just a dream.  A bad, awful, horrible dream, sure.  But it was just a dream.  Because Jasper is still here.  Being his goofy, lovable self.  And he'll get to see him on the weekend!  

So maybe he hasn't quite gotten over it as he'd hoped.  But... that's okay, in a sense.  He's not dealing with it by himself.

He never was.

He plugs his phone back in to charge and sighs as the time flashes up at him.

Well, two hours of sleep isn't so bad!

As he curls up on his bed, avoiding the damp parts of it in favor of the drier parts, he thinks he'll take a note from Jasper's methods.

And for those two hours.

He'll just have sweet dreams of Jasper.