#my argument was that Romeo and Mercutio were in gay love but Romeo was in deep denial about it and hence he sets his sights on unattainable

[curiositykilledtheradiostar]

YALL I GOT A 96% ON THE GAY ROMEO ANALYSIS I WROTE FOR ENGLISH CLASS. LOVE WINS

[galahadwilder]

You’re a Lucky Man (She Called You an Idiot)

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Adrien and Marinette have VERY different opinions on the meaning of “Romeo and Juliet.” But hey, at least she’s talking to him.

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, in the right circumstances, is occasionally a terrifying force of nature. It’s not something Adrien’s seen a lot, mind you, but he has seen it occasionally, and he’s heard enough from their mutual friends to know that it happens a lot when he’s not around. Get her emotional enough to forget her anxiety and she becomes a riptide, dragging everyone in her social wake.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng also—apparently—has some very strong opinions on English literature.

It starts innocently enough, with Nino and some gentle ribbing. “Hey, Romeo,” he says as he slides into his seat after lunch, elbowing Adrien in the side. “How go things with the mystery coworker?”

Adrien tries to hide his smile. ”You and your Romeo jokes,” he says, dodging the question. “What’s wrong with Romeo?”

Nino opens his mouth, but he’s interrupted when Marinette mumbles something under her breath. Both boys turn to look at her, confused, and she looks up, realizes they heard her, and tries to hide her head between her shoulders as her face goes red.

“Nette?” Nino says. “You say something?”

”Um, I..." Marinette straightens a little. "Yeah,” she says. “There's... a lot wrong with Romeo.”

Adrien snorts—that doesn't make any sense. "Everyone loves Romeo," he says. "He's the classic romantic protagonist!" He lofts a hand in a manner that is admittedly similar to how he transforms for Chat Noir, framing her face within his fingers. "But soft, what light through yonder Mari breaks?" he says with a winning smile, hoping that maybe she won't freak out this time.

She doesn't. Instead, she growls at him. "Romeo killed six people in two days," she hisses, her hackles raised.

Adrien blinks. "What?" He turns to Nino, hoping for support or maybe an explanation, but Nino won't meet his eyes. Alya, too, is inching away from Mari, though Marinette herself seems not to notice. She's too focused on him, the fire in her eyes like a searchlight freezing him in place and oh, THAT'S what Nino meant about the Mari Penance Stare.

"Romeo and Juliet isn't a romance," Marinette grumbles. "I'm sick of people treating it like one!"

"Okay but none of those deaths were Romeo's fault," Adrien says, holding up a finger.

"Really?" Marinette snaps, her face twitching around her nose like she's trying not to scowl. "Did you even read the play, Adrien?"

Everyone in the classroom is staring at them now. Even Mme. Bustier has stopped preparing her materials for class in preference for watching their argument, and Adrien can't help feeling the attention (that he's fairly sure Mari isn't even tangentially aware of.) "I, uh—"

"Every single death in that play happened because Romeo makes stupid decisions," Marinette spits. "He's stupid and reckless and honestly if I were Juliet I'd have dumped him the moment Mercutio died!"

"He did it for love!" Adrien protests. He's never seen her like this before, fierce and tempestuous—there's iron under her skin, he can see it now, and honestly he can't help comparing her to Ladybug a little. Unfair as that might be to both of them.

"And that makes it better?" Marinette says. "Juliet was twelve and he knew her for two days!"

"I never said it wasn't a tragedy!" Adrien cries, throwing his hands up. "But it's the families' fault! The tragedy is about the feud!"

Marinette shoots to her feet, slamming her hands on her desk. "The tragedy is how stupid and impulsive Romeo is when if he wasn't so reckless he wouldn't have to keep dying in her arms!"

Adrien suddenly gets the impression they're no longer talking about Shakespeare. "You know he'd do anything for her," he says, no longer sure which him and which her he's talking about. It's true for both of them though, and he has to stand up for himself.

Marinette snarls. "God, you're an idiot—"

Suddenly she stops, her breath catching halfway out her mouth with a teakettle whistle, and all the blood drains from her face. "I—I mean, uh—you're—I don't think... you're right?" she squeaks, trembling. Her eyelid twitches and she turns to Alya, who has backed to the very edge of the desk. "Oh my God did I just call him an idiot?" she whisper-shrieks.

Something about that catches in Adrien's brain. She called you an idiot. Why does that sound... happy?

Alya, wide-eyed, nods.

Marinette gasps, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth. "Oh God Adrien I'm so sorry I didn't mean it I'm sorry I don't think you're stupid you're really smart I mean—"

Adrien barely manages to process what she's saying, because suddenly his brain screeches to a halt. If she calls you an idiot, you're a lucky man. That American sitcom with the gay actor and the architect.

Marinette called him an idiot.

"It's—It's okay, Mari, really!" he says, putting up his hands to placate her (and trying to hide the redness in his face). "I mean, yeah, I'm—I'm definitely an idiot sometimes, you know?" He laughs anxiously, knocks on the side of his head. "Hear that? Empty. Nothin' in here."

Marinette stares at him, then giggles, and Adrien's ribs stop crushing his lungs just a little bit. Mission accomplished.

Mme. Bustier clears her throat. "As entertaining as that was," she says, "I believe it's time for class."

Everyone shifts back into their seats and turns to look at her. But Adrien—Marinette called him an idiot. He can't quite let that go. He takes out his phone, hiding it under the desk, and shoots a quick message to Nino.

Adrien: Do you think there's a chance

Adrien: that Mari might

Adrien: ...*like* me?

*

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[turnupswritessometimes]

The One With the Zombies - AshEiji - Ch15

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 15

Word Count: 5163

Description:  Another what it says on the tin from me - it’s a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren’t surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang’s leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn’t last forever and soon it’s only Ash and Eiji. And they’re up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

It didn’t suit Ash. The cheap suit that was too wide everywhere and made him look like he was borrowing Max’s. Which of course, he was, but no one was supposed to know that.

Ash had leant against the doorframe to the bathroom, fastening the tie and fixing Eiji a smirk that, despite the black nylon, made him duck his head to hide his smile.  

Max and Ibe had scraped enough money to move them out of a hotel and into a cramped apartment. They’d played on the refugee part, and continued to act the part of their parents. They were a refugee family – and a gay refugee family, at that.

It wasn’t great, but it was something. It was home.

“Do you think I could get a license to kill like this?” Ash asked, pushing his hair off of his face, even though he was meant to leave it down and fluffy. The goal was to look as young as possible. The younger the boy, the more sympathy they’d gain. It didn’t stop Ash from winking at Eiji.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Eiji was still smiling, his face still burning because – damn, he loved that boy. He loved looking at that boy and seeing him wink and feeling butterflies still fluttering up a tornado in his stomach.

“Yeah.”

Eiji put on his best American accent, “I think if I had one day when I didn’t have to be all confused and I didn’t have to feel that I was ashamed of everything. If I felt that I belonged someplace. You know?”

Ash tried to scowl at him. It didn’t quite work. He was grinning too much to really look angry.

“You’re a real yo-yo.” He said.

“I love you too.”

Ash had laughed and closed the bathroom door to change again. Later, Eiji wondered if he should have stood, left his book on the bed and taken Ash’s tie in his hand. If he should have been the one to change Ash out of that suit.

If Ash would even let him.

But it was the end of the suits. They gave way to pastel button ups and woollen pullovers that made Ash look like Eiji did when he was first in the city. Or, that he should go to a private boarding school. That he spent the weekends playing golf and laughing at a country club, rather than organising a gang and shooting up zombies. They made him look like Max’s son.

There was an argument about that.

“You came into the country as Aslan Lobo. What will they say if they knew we were lying?” Max had been pacing, his tie undone in his collar and only one shoe off in their hotel room. They were planning to try to sell the story, that afternoon, Eiji knew.

“We also pulled a gun on them. I don’t think the lying part will be the problem,” Ash snapped. He sat, one leg up on the bed and his arms hooking around Eiji so that he fell against him. He felt like a human shield, with Ash’s chin on the top of his head.

“It makes a better narrative – that I’ve been trying to find you all these years and now we finally know-“

“You were trying to find me because you let my brother get bitten by a zombie!” Ash was spitting like a wildcat. Eiji leant back, wrapping himself tighter in Ash as if that would appease him. There was something unspoken in that statement. A desperation for the guilt to shift. “You found us by sheer luck.”

“It’s my story!”

Eiji felt Ash stiffen around him. Or maybe he was the one that froze. They all had. It took a moment for Max to run a hand over his mouth and chin. Dark eyes flickered  to Ash.

“I didn’t mean that,” Max said, quickly.

“It’s fine.” Ash was just as quick.

“No – Ash, I’m sorry.”

“Max.” His arms were too tight around Eiji. It hurt but he hardly dared breathe. “You’re right. This is the scoop you’ve been waiting for. I’ll follow you.”

Max gave him another glance. Then breathed heavily through his nose and stared out of the window.

“Go by whatever you want.”

For a moment, Eiji wondered if Ash had planned the whole thing that way.

“I want him to know it’s me. Without a doubt that I’m the one bringing him down.”

“Hey.” There was a gleam in Max’s eye. “I said I’d let you choose your name, not take all the glory.”

And Ash’s arms relaxed. He almost laughed – Eiji could feel it in the chest behind him – a bubble trying to escape but not quite rising enough.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll let you do all the talking.”

“As if you could keep your mouth shut long enough.” Max was grinning, as if the whole argument hadn’t happened. The two always seemed to switch back and forth so fast that it gave Eiji whiplash. And suddenly Ash was standing – they were leaving, because an office slightly uptown was going to hear Max’s story and that gave Eiji butterflies in his stomach. Over the last few days, Ash had been completely absorbed, rechecking facts and figures and going over law books late into the night. Sometimes he was still reading when Eiji woke up in the morning from the sunlight streaming in through their window. It was starting to come through later now, the pounding sun starting to bow down to wind as September started. Ash was obsessed with this case. Obsessed with making it sting as much as he could.

So if they got there and they were turned away…

Eiji didn’t think he could deal with the fallout.

Ash kissed the top of his head, and as he looked up, his lips too. “Will you be okay here on your own, sweetie?”

“Who said I would be here? Or alone?” Eiji smiled, and the fact that he had clearly caught Ash out made him smile wider. “Maybe I’m going out with Soo-Ling.”

Ash blinked. “Are you? Out with Soo-Ling?”

“No.” Eiji was still smiling, as he kissed Ash. “I’m going to the library – I want to Skype my family. Make sure they know I’m alright.”

“And are you going to tell them about your boyfriend?” Ash was curling his fingers in the hair around Eiji’s ear, one knee still on the bed so that he was above him.

“My boyfriend?” It was easier to tease Ash than to hesitate. To think about how he had no idea how he was going to tell his parents. There was a zombie apocalypse. And he was gay. And dating a gang leader. These things may all be linked, he wasn’t sure.

“Your boyfriend.” Ash’s fingers curled tight in his hair, and he leant forward, tilting his head in the way he did when he was going to give Eiji one of those heart-melting kisses.

But he was abruptly pulled away by the scruff of his collar.

“Come on, Romeo. We’re going to be late.”

“I prefer to think of myself as Mercutio.” Ash still had hold of Eiji’s hand, and he brought it to his lips. Eiji supposed he was giggling and blushing like a fair maid in some romantic poem. “Ah, then, I see, Queen Mab, hath been with you-“

“I thought we agreed no romantic crap in front of me.”

“The Queen Mab speech is not romantic.”

“I meant the kissing and stuff.”

“You’re just cranky because your wife divorced you!”

Eiji could hear them bickering all the way down the hallway and found himself smiling. His chest felt fuzzy – like when he was home. Sitting together in the living room or celebrating a birthday. This felt like his family.

So it was weird to sit and see his mother’s face peering into the camera. (Too close. She was sat too close.) And his sister pushing her out of the way and grinning at him. Grinning and crying. Grinning and sobbing tears of relief and joy because –

“You’re okay – you’re really okay! I can’t believe – you’re okay!”

“I’m okay.” Eiji could only smile. Smile and think that she looked young. Very young. “I’m alive.”

There was a babble of Japanese coming out of the computer screen at him and it took his ear a moment to tune into it. That made his stomach flicker with nerves. But it was just a moment, before it was back and he could try to speak over his sister, who was speaking over his mother, who was speaking over his father.

“You don’t look any different!” They were saying – was the gist of it. That surprised him.

When they had first arrived at the hotel he had caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and almost hadn’t recognised himself. He’d lost weight – lots of it – it wasn’t just that the t-shirts were baggy. His hips jutted out alarmingly and he could see his ribs. His hair was a mess – curling around itself like it was trying to turn itself into a thorn bush – and he had needed a good shave.

But it was the eyes that scared him. There was something feral in them. A glint of a wild boy. A boy who had killed zombies time and time again because he had to survive. The kind of boy that pulled a gun on customs officers.

He didn’t look the same.

And they wanted to know everything of course. Wanted to know everything that had happened to him. He hesitated over his story, over the many parts of it that he didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want them to know he had chain sawed a zombie in half and quoted an eighties movie. He didn’t want them to know what he’d let his best friend do to keep him safe. He didn’t want them to know hardly any of it. He didn’t know how to tell them he was gay.

Why was that the scariest bit?

Just be glad I’m alive. Just be glad I’m alive, he wanted to say.

“So this Ash Lynx must be your best friend, no, huh?” his sister asked after an increasingly sanitised version of events.

Ashu Rinks. He could hear the way she said it.

He found himself smiling, trying to find the way to say it. To make the words on his tongue materialise into the air.

But his mom was interrupting him. Asking him a million questions about where he was staying, and was Ibe alright and what was the plan now?

What was the plan now?

He woke up when Ash wasn’t sleeping next to him. That was the only thing he could focus on.  The plan was to stick to Ash. No matter what. He wasn’t sure how to say that to him. Instead, he focused on the court stuff. Said that Ibe was heavily involved in bringing someone who had killed their friend down and that he wanted to stay there until it was over.

Eiji said he’d keep them updated, because he wasn’t sure how to say he didn’t plan to come back home.

*

Eiji started working part time in a café. He said it was because he was bored – that he was putting the money away to save for an apartment in the city – or maybe out of the city – somewhere. Somewhere with Ash. That future made his stomach flip and tumble like a salmon leaping upstream.

But for now, Eiji worked in a café, and came home smelling of coffee. And Ash relished in coming in and burying his nose into Eiji’s hair just to catch a whiff of it. Coffee and sweat from running around in the heat. That made him think of the early days of the Summer. Of the warehouse and standing outside in silence because neither of them knew what to say to each other – only that they needed to be next to each other.  For some reason it made Ash nostalgic. He missed those days. There was something simple about it – he was just a gang leader. A gang leader trapped by his past and with a bloody future ahead of him. But also a happy future. And maybe that was worth the blood.

“You smell like cigarettes.” Eiji mumbled. He wrapped his arms up and around Ash’s neck. Tired. Ash had the same aches – in the small of his back and his legs. They were so tired now.

“They published the story.” It was all he had to say for Eiji to bolt upright, to turn and take Ash’s hands in his. His eyes were glinting. “There was immediate backlash.”

“He’s going to court.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow it starts.”

“Oh, sweetie.”

Ash kissed Eiji then. Kissed him just to feel something because his face had been numb and tingling since the news, and Eiji was warm. Eiji tasted like coffee and he needed more of that, his arms wrapping around him and pulling him as close as he could. Eiji was relenting, letting him take as much as he needed. It worked both ways. In the middle of the night when Eiji would wake up in a cold sweat Ash would let him close. Would let him run his fingers over as much of Ash as he needed to, even if it made his heart panic in the dark. It was so easy for Eiji’s fingers to turn into someone else’s.

“I don’t know.” Ash said. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I can go with you.” Eiji’s fingers trailed down Ash’s jumper and he loved that. He loved being touched as if he was worth something.

“You won’t be able to get it off work.”

Eiji repeated. “I can go with you.”

And Ash opened his mouth to say ‘yes, of course – please.’ His eyes were closed and his mouth was over Eiji’s. He wanted to say please – please, he couldn’t do this alone. And yet, when he closed his eyes all he could see was that face across the courtroom. Ice cold blue eyes. It was disturbing, how clearly he could see every line and twitch of him.

And how clearly he could see Eiji’s face when he had found out about it all. It had been almost worse than if he had been disgusted by Ash. There had just been so much sadness there – such deep and utter heartbreak.

Ash couldn’t make Eiji sit through it. Not for himself. He wasn’t worth it.

“No,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Really?” Eiji’s lips traced his jaw, and Ash could feel a whine forming in the back of his throat. Like a dog – a trained dog, Golzine would say. And Eiji hadn’t even meant it to be teasing – he was just too lazy to pull away and that was where his mouth had been.

His stomach clenched. He had thought it was pressed down – all pressed down so far that there was no way of him ever getting those memories back again. Ash had thought, after a month with Eiji – just Eiji being Eiji – that he’d be fine.

He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like assent. But his hands were hovering over Eiji’s waist and he knew he had gone stiff. Was holding his breath and barely breathing.

And of course, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you alright?”

Ash made another sound, catching the back of Eiji’s head with one hand and burying his nose and mouth into it. Breathe – he needed to breathe – to smell the coffee.

“Ash?” Eiji pressed, chasing creases along Ash’s jumper with his fingers.

“I don’t –“ he knew he was probably holding Eiji’s head too tightly. But it was a lifeline, it was a way on proving to himself that this was all real. This was his life. His life was good now and he needed to move on. “I don’t know how to talk about it.”

“Do you think-“ Eiji’s fingers spread the jumper back out again. “Do you think – would it be best to talk to a –“

Ash could guess what was coming, and he felt himself stiffen. “Therapist?”

“I just…” Eiji trailed off. He eased himself out of Ash’s grip, so that he could look him in the eye. “I don’t know how to make this better.”

“It’s fine.” His stomach was clenched so tightly that it made him feel sick. “You’re fine, just being here and being you-“

“I was going to go,” Eiji said. He didn’t look Ash in the eye. Instead, he hooked his fingers through Ash’s belt loops absentmindedly. Ash put his hands over the top, peeing Eiji’s touch away like he was a clingy toddler. “We’ve been through – it’s been – scary.”

“I can go with you.”

“You can,” Eiji smiled, glancing up at him from under his lashes. “But you’ll have to wait outside.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe I’m going to talk about things I don’t want you knowing.”

“Like how much you love me?” Ash asked. He tucked a strand of hair behind Eiji’s ear and Eiji leant into the touch. He was trying to make his body go back to normal – to go back to being soft, instead of feeling stiff. It felt like he was a puppet on a string. The feeling was too similar to turning up at Golzine’s mansion with Eiji on his back.

“No,” Eiji said, softly. “I’d always tell you that.”

Ash kissed him then, because if he didn’t kiss him, he would cry. Because Eiji was too sweet, too genuine and too good to ever be with Ash. It felt like he’d dragged this boy down into blood with him.

He’d dragged Eiji down as far as him wanting to go to therapy.

“Will you think about it?” Eiji asked. His eyes were barely open and he was smiling lazily. He was gorgeous.

“Yeah. I’ll think about it.” There was no way. No way he was letting anyone pick around inside his brain and figure out just how messed up he was. No way he was going to become the case of a lifetime for some random grown up who’d gone to school way too long.

No way was Ash Lynx going to therapy.

*

Max thought it was a good idea.

Ash had grumbled it to him in the back of the uber they were taking to the courtroom. It had been easier to talk about something – anything, than sit in silence.

“Probably sensible. We can’t all act like characters on the Walking Dead.”

The suit was itchy and a size too big. He’d rolled up the sleeves like a child and now he unfolded them again, scowling.

“The zombie apocalypse was a walk in the park.”

“Not for most people.” Max leant back. He was flipping through his notebook and his hands were shaking slightly. It might have been nerves, but it was more likely to be the five coffees he’d had this morning having a side effect. “Eiji’s just worried about you. He doesn’t know the best way to help you recover.”

Ash sighed. He caught sight of the clock on the car dashboard. An hour and a half. An hour and a half before he would be sat down in the courtroom. Expected to give evidence and testify and try to bring down a Godzilla of capitalism.

And to top it all off, Max was right. He knew what Blanca would have said if he was here. That Eiji couldn’t fix him and he should stop expecting that of him. Should stop expecting Eiji to know how to deal with his menagerie of issues.

“None of this has been fair on him,” he muttered. His palms were damp. He was too hot – travel sick – needed to get out of this damn car and run –

And keep running.

“So, do it for Eiji.” Max said. He was fiddling with his cigarette pack, thumbing the lid on and off. The driver gave him a warning look.

“Fuck you, Lobo.”

“What was that?” Max cupped a hand to his ear, but he had a smirk on his face. “Thank you, Max? Thank you for always giving me good advice, even if I don’t listen and take you for granted.”

“Fuck. You.”

But Max was smiling at him. A smile that made his brown eyes twinkle and the lines around them deepen. Like a dad. It made something in Ash twinge mournfully.

“It’s good to see your nerves haven’t gotten to your attitude,” Max said.

“I’m never nervous.”

“Good.”

They were stopping, even though they were nowhere near the courthouse. A look outside the window showed a crowd of people. Citizens and journalists and photographers. Their cameras were already flashing and Ash had to turn his face away. A sea – a sea of people all clamouring about them and the case and pictures – flash – flash – flash –

He was holding his breath without meaning to. Forced himself to swallow air and meet Max’s heavy gaze.

“Good.” Max repeated. “Because I’m just about shitting myself.”

*

Pictures. There were pictures of Ash on the front of every newspaper, and most of them were bad. They were mostly glimpses of him, from behind Max. His head ducked, or the hood of his coat up, sunglasses covering his face.

Not the face. Ash had said that, when the others had gotten hold of Eiji’s camera and were mucking around with the remaining battery. He hadn’t known enough English to ask them to stop, but he also hadn’t minded that much. What was he going to take pictures of anyway? Zombies didn’t pose.

They had turned the lens to Ash and he had scowled, sticking his palm out to block out the image.

“Not the face.”

It was only when Ash had explained – had told Eiji the whole story that he understood. There was a reason Ash hated having his photo taken. So, this must have been torture. Even more torture than it already was.

But at least they weren’t allowed to film in the courthouse. A small blessing, even if almost every word was in one newspaper or the other.

Ash had taken to leaving early – way earlier than he needed to be at the courthouse, to avoid most of the reporters. So that he could slip in the back entrance with Max. He’d sneak away the moment he could – before the cameras were ready, so that he had a few seconds head start.

He’d come back late – though it got dark so early now that night seemed to last a day in itself, and fill Eiji in. As though he hadn’t been checking the news on his phone at work for any kind of update. The case was at a stand-still. Golzine’s money was starting to trickle through the cracks, slowing down any progress and verdict. It was Ash and Max that were pushing – and pushing hard. There were campaigns online for justice, but it didn’t seem to be having any effect.

The virus had spread down to Mexico and was seeping into South America. The Northern borders were contained and the official line was to wait. All transport in or out had ceased, as had any movement between the borders. Wait, was the official line. Wait for the bodies to decompose. Most in the south had already stopped becoming a threat, the zombies had gone without food in such a dry climate for so long that they had decomposed entirely. It could take four more months for the rest to do the same. No one knew what they would do afterwards – if the soil would be forever tainted by the living dead or not.

And Eiji had started going to a support group, on the recommendation of the evaluation a therapist gave him. He didn’t require intense treatment, the therapist had said – Eiji suspected it was more his empty wallet that led him there.

But it was helping. He was having less recurring memories of decaying faces and yellow eyes. He was picking up techniques to calm himself down when the images and sounds started to replay in his head. And because of that, he was able to help Ash better.

His nightmares had gotten worse. He’d wake up soaked in sweat, shivering, but too hot – much too hot. His eyes wouldn’t even focus on Eiji when he switched on the light and told Ash that it was “okay. They were here, in Toronto. Eiji was here. It was okay.”

It was too much, Eiji knew. This was too much of a strain on him, but Goddammit if Ash wasn’t going to win this case.

Ash was the one who made use of the therapist. Though that wasn’t simple, either. There was a leak in the building – the reporters knew where Ash was staying and where he was going to therapy. He left the apartment by the fire escape, looking like an undercover celebrity – in huge hoodies and shades with his blonde hair hidden. They all wanted his story, his thoughts on how the case was going and what he wanted to do – why he wanted to do it. Ash hadn’t said a word to any of them and told Eiji not to, either.

“They’re not going to want to talk to me.” Eiji had said, leaning back against Ash as he read. They had to keep the curtains closed all the time now.

But he had been wrong. He had stepped out in his barista uniform to go to work and had found lights flashing at him like fireworks, blinding him so he could hardly see straight.

“What’s your relationship with Ash Lynx?”

“How long have you known Ash Lynx?”

“Were you involved with Golzine’s sex trafficking?”

He would have stayed there, blinking at them like a stunned rabbit in the middle of the road, if Soo-Ling hadn’t been roller skating by. Within an instant, he was at Eiji’s side, and tugging him down the street.

“Hey, lay off, would ya? Go find a real story instead of bothering people!” he had snapped, and made a few rude gestures.

The questions turned to him, asking who he was and who Eiji was and honestly it seemed like they were all a hivemind. A bunch of brainwashed zombies themselves, after any scrap of exclusive material for their magazines.

“I’m the kid that’ll punch your lenses out – and I’m not fussy about which ones.” Soo-Ling stuck his tongue out at them, and kept skating alongside Eiji, keeping a hand on his elbow to keep him walking fast.

It was after that, Soo-Ling’s gang would lurk around the apartment and chase off as many reporters as they could. As soon as Yut Lung got wind of it all, his guys joined in. The apartment quickly became a hive for gang members to lounge about in, some of them creating fake leads for the reporters to follow.

Of course, Eiji’s photo had appeared in the paper – of him staring wide eyed at the cameras alongside a long piece about exactly if he and Ash were together or not. Ash had thought the photo was cute. Eiji had wrestled it out of Ash’s hands, so Ash had leapt on Eiji, fingers reaching for the newspaper clipping.

They had wrestled on the bed over it, elbows and knees jabbing at each other. Ash took advantage of how ticklish Eiji was and eventually got the upper hand, pinning him to the duvet. Eiji had been laughing, the paper crumpled up in one hand, until he noticed the way Ash was looking at him. He’d caught that look before. As if Eiji was made of light. As if he was something delicate that couldn’t be handled too roughly. A look of pure adoration that made Eiji feel as though he was full of hot, bubbly cider.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” Ash’s voice was a murmur.

It was a collective realisation that Ash was straddling Eiji’s lap. That his hands were pinning Eiji’s wrists to the messy duvet and that there was something crackling in the air. It was like a storm was brewing in the room and Eiji needed Ash to move – he had to get off because it was too much. Ash’s hair flopping down like that, and the smell of cigarettes on his skin – and that look was just too much.

“Let’s have…” Ash held the word in his mouth for way too long, letting the electricity continue to spark in the air and Eiji’s stomach hurt. “Sex. Let’s do it soon.”

He might as well have punched Eiji in the gut. But he managed to nod. To swallow and nod.

“Now?” he whispered.

Ash didn’t reply. His fingers trailed down Eiji’s arms, ghost, tracing their way down his sides and onto his hips. Slow – so slow, and Eiji was holding his breath when Ash finally reached the waistband of his jeans.

He was watching Eiji with cat’s eyes. More interested than anything else. Eiji just hoped that he didn’t look as warm as he felt. That he wasn’t literally falling apart in front of Ash just because the word ‘sex’ had been said.

Ash popped open the button of his jeans. Slid the zip down, and paused. He swallowed. Closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and took a shaky breath.

Eiji put his hands over Ash’s.

“Maybe not now,” he muttered, because he could barely think straight but he had to be there – had to be there for Ash.

“No, I can –“

“Ash.” Eiji took a breath that rattled his frame. He felt Ash’s fingers twitch underneath his. He’d never felt like quite like this. Not with Ash. Not such a need. “You think I can’t see how uncomfortable you are?”

“You think I can’t see how turned on you are?” Ash replied. His fingers curled underneath Eiji’s waistband. They froze again.

“Stop.” Everything in Eiji was telling him not to say those words. To be a little selfish and get what he wanted. But that was how everyone else in Ash’s life had been, and, fuck, he wasn’t going to add to it. “Sweetie, stop.”

Eiji hauled himself onto his elbows. He was still holding the scrap of newspaper, he realised.

“Not today,” he whispered.

Ash nodded, and swung off of him, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hands through his hair.

“It’s okay,” Eiji said, and tried to smile. “It’s okay. We’ll get there.”

Ash nodded. But then his back started shaking and he half turned to Eiji, a grin on his face.

“Do you think I should mention this in therapy?” he asked, a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

“No! Ash!”

And Eiji threw a pillow as hard as he could.

But he was laughing too.