#my heart broke when I saw i missed your birthday so lets celebrate an un-birthday!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petersasteria · 4 years ago

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What You Don't Know Won't Hurt - Tom Holland

Tom || Main || Taglist

Pairing: Tom x Chalamet!Reader Requested? Nah 4,289 words

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“Happy five-month anniversary!” You whispered in Tom’s ear as you hugged him from behind. He smiled and turned around to pull you in for a short, but sweet kiss.

“Happy five-month anniversary to you too, babe.” He said softly with a bright smile on his face. “I spoke to your brother.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows before pulling away from him to prepare breakfast for you and Tom. “What did you talk about?”

Tom shrugged, “Nothing important. He greeted us, that’s for sure. He’s inviting me to hang out with his friends, actually. Should I go?”

“Do you want to go?” You asked and he nodded slightly. “Then, go for it. When is that supposed to be?”

“Tomorrow after lunch.” Tom answered and you nodded. Both of you prepared breakfast and ate breakfast. You didn’t eat that much because you knew you’d puke it all out later. You’re two weeks pregnant and you wanted to tell Tom later tonight.

You and Tom haven’t been confirming your relationship to the public despite being seen together for a bunch of times. That’s about to change, though.

You and Tom were caught by the paparazzi and it was normal for both of you, but what you didn’t know is that you two were caught kissing and that caused so much reaction from the media. When you two got home from your shared flat, you were surprised that your relationship was outed by the paps. It was something that surprised both of you. You had no problem with that because you didn’t want to hide anymore. Tom, however, was fucked.

Tom’s phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID and quickly went to your shared room to answer it. You didn’t even have the time to ask who it was because he just bolted straight in the room. You didn’t mind, though. It was probably his manager or publicist or someone important from his team.

It was his girlfriend, Nadia.

Tom answered the phone immediately. “Na-”

“When were you planning on telling me that you’re cheating on me? Did you even want to tell me?” Nadia asked. She was mad and rightfully so.

“I was planning on telling you, but-”

“Cut the bullshit.” She said angrily. “It’s so unfair that you and her have gone public, but you haven’t gone public with me and we’ve been together for a year.”

“I was planning on leaving her, I swear!” Tom hissed.

“You leave me with no choice, Tom. Goodbye.” She said before hanging up. Tom let out a frustrated sigh as he sat on the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands and just sat there.

A few minutes later, his phone’s blowing up with notifications from Instagram. He clicked on it and was shocked to see Nadia’s post about her relationship with him. He scrolled through each comment and he was hurt that everyone started going against him.

Timmy saw the post and sent it to you. You were confused as to who Nadia was but when you looked through the pictures and read her caption, you realized she was Tom’s girlfriend. His real girlfriend. You went up to your shared room and saw him sitting on the bed with a shocked face.

“You didn’t have the decency to tell me that you were taken?” You whispered as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t have the energy to speak loudly. “All this time, I thought you were single when we met because that’s what you told me. Everyone’s going to think that I’m the snake who took you away from her, don’t you realize that?”

“That’s not my problem.” He said before getting up and grabbing a suitcase to pack his things. “We’re done, Y/N. I lost her because of you.”

“Wait a second.” You grabbed his arm and he looked at you. “Why are you acting like it’s all my fault? There’s two of us in this relationship! It’s your fault too!”

Tom went back to packing and said nothing. You watched as he moved around the room to grab his things. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach when you realized that you’re carrying this man’s baby.

“You came on to me!” Tom shouted and you flinched at the sound of his voice. He was angry.

“No, that’s not true and you know it! Don’t twist this!” You shouted back. “How dare you blame me for something I didn’t know! If I knew you were taken, we wouldn’t be where we are right now!”

Tom was finished packing his things when he stared at you one last time. He took in your features. Like your older brother, you had a face that made you look like you came straight out of a renaissance painting. In truth, Tom was lucky he was graced to wake up next to a beauty such as yourself.

“Look, I’m sorry. I have to go.” Tom sighed as he grabbed his suitcase and left your shared apartment. You knew he was going to try and get his girlfriend back. You stared at the man you loved as he left your shared flat without another word.

News broke out and Tom defended himself saying shit about you and that he was working on apologizing to his true love which he did. He even got her back and vowed not to do it again. He still got his job and because of all the attention he got, he was being asked to take on roles left and right.

You got the short end of the stick, though. Everyone thought you were a liar and the few people who defended you were facing backlash for being on your side causing them to leave you. Your parents had no say and your sister just dismissed you. Timmy stayed by your side and he never left. He even defended you when no one else would.

This caused a rivalry between Tom and Timmy. Timmy took it personally because even he didn’t know that Tom was taken and Tom promised him that he’d care for you and love you. Tom, of course, didn’t let it faze him. He was still a jackass.

Meanwhile, your pregnancy was going well. The baby was healthy and Timmy has been very supportive. He’s the best uncle in the world, in your opinion. You still get casted for some roles, but you asked them to hide your pregnancy and you were thankful that no one said a thing.

The media still wasn’t so nice to you, though. Since they didn’t know you were pregnant, they assumed that you let yourself go after Tom left you. They made rumors about you having breast implants, you gained so much weight after Tom left, and so much more. This pissed Timmy off because he kept asking you to clear the rumors and just tell them you’re pregnant.

“I don’t want to, okay?! I want this baby out of the spotlight! You saw how the media treated me and I admit that it’s shitty, but can you imagine how the media will treat my baby?! They won’t be so kind and we both know that.” You frowned. “I don’t want Tom to know either.”

“Fine.” Timmy nodded. “Don’t stress yourself, okay? How’s the baby?” He asked as he sat next to you.

You smiled and looked at him, “The baby’s fine and I know the gender.”

“Spill!” Timmy said in excitement. His eyes sparkled and he was happy.

“I’m having a boy.” You grinned.

“Ahh!” Timmy screamed in joy. “Tu as un fils! (you are having a son)” You laughed and nodded as he pulled you in for a hug.

A son. You’re having a son. He’s the center of your world.

A year later, Beau Julien Chalamet is now turning 1. He was very playful and he was always laughing. It brought you joy despite having a tough work life. You were thankful that Beau took almost all your features which made him really look like a true Chalamet. In short, his name suited him well.

Today is Beau’s 1st birthday and you were celebrating in your flat. Your sister will come over later and Timmy won’t be able to come because he was halfway across the world to attend an awards show. You were now waiting for his call while Beau watched Sesame Street in the living room.

You were looking at Beau with an amusing smile as he danced around to the song Elmo was singing on tv. Your phone rang in your hand and you glanced down to see that Timmy wanted to FaceTime you. You smiled and quickly answered, “Hi, Timmy!”

“Hey!” He grinned. “Where’s the birthday boy?”

“Il regarde la télé! (he is watching tv)” You turned the camera to Beau and he was watching while dancing. Timmy laughed and you turned the camera back at you. “I thought you’re at an awards show.”

“Yeah, it was. It’s the after party now and I’m in the men’s room so that it’s quiet. Everyone’s having fun out there and I figured they’d be too busy to go to the bathroom.” Timmy explained.

You nodded, “Tu es intelligent. (you are intelligent)”

“Merci beaucoup.” He said with a playful smile on his face. “Anyway, I want to speak to the birthday boy!”

You grinned and called over your son. You pulled him on your lap and he instantly smiled when he saw his favorite (and only) uncle in the whole world. “Who’s that?” You asked Beau.

“Timmy!” Beau said with a cute smile which made yours and Timmy’s heart soar. Timmy was his first word and your brother will never not let go of that.

“Hey, buddy! I miss you so much!” Timmy pouted. “When I come back there, I’ll give you lots of presents. Okay?”

“‘Kay!” Beau smiled. He can repeat the last syllables of words, but he can say ‘mama’ and ‘Timmy’ really well. It was weird, but hey, every kid is different.

You, Timmy, and Beau kept talking for a few minutes. On the other line, Timmy didn’t notice Tom entering the bathroom. Tom has never seen Timmy ever since the incident and seeing your brother made Tom nervous. He noticed that Timmy was talking to you and he hid in one of the cubicles to listen.

“Y/N, you don’t have to worry about me giving gifts to him. He’s my nephew! I’m allowed to spoil him. Plus, that’s mom and dad’s first grandchild.” Timmy said.

“I know. I’m just telling you not to spoil him. I can’t afford those things and he might go looking for them.” You told him which made Timmy sigh.

“That’s why I’m here and that’s why I’m his godfather. Besides, who else is going to do that? His deadbeat dad? No fucking way, Y/N.” Timmy shook his head. “I swear I’ll beat him up, but at the same time I’ll thank him for giving you Beau.”

“Don’t beat him up, but thank him for me too.” You said. “Well, I have to go. Pauline is coming over in a few minutes and Beau is making a mess in the living room right now.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later before you go to bed.” Timmy said.

“Okay. Bye! Beau, say goodbye to Timmy.” You smiled as Beau walked over to you and showed his face to Timmy. He gave Timmy a toothy grin and said, “Bye!”

“Bye!” Timmy smiled and flew him a kiss through the screen. “Bye, Y/N/N. Take care.”

“You too.” You smiled before hanging up.

Timmy put his phone in his pocket and washed his hands. Tom emerged from one of the cubicles and stared at Timmy. Timmy looked up and saw Tom through the mirror. They stared at each other and Tom cleared his throat and said, “H-How are-”

“Skip the formalities and tell me what the fuck you want.” Timmy hissed. He turned around to face Tom and he crossed his arms.

Tom gulped and took a deep breath. “Y/N has a son?”

“Why does that matter?” Timmy raised an eyebrow.

“Is he mine?” Tom asked.

“Everything related to my sister and my own sister will never be yours. Excuse me.” Timmy said angrily before leaving Tom in the bathroom.

Tom looked at the door where Timmy left and he pulled out his phone to call Sam who was back at home and because he conveniently lived near you.

“Hello?” Sam answered. “I thought you’re at an awards show.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Tom said quickly. “You live near Y/N, right?”

Sam was silent on the other line before speaking again, “Why? Are you planning on getting on with her again? Because if you are, at least break up with Nadia first. What you did was fucked. You’re lucky mum and dad love you.”

“That’s not it, Sam. I think she’s hiding something from me. I overheard her brother saying something about having a nephew and the kid having a deadbeat dad. I’m the deadbeat dad, Sam. I think she hid that from me.” Tom said.

“Are you drunk?” Sam asked in concern. “You know, I think you’re an alcoholic.”

“I’m not fucking drunk, Sam! Just check. Please.” Tom begged.

“I can’t just show up at her place a year later! That’ll be weird. What will I say?” Sam shrieked in panic.

“Tell her that I told you to get something of mine that’s still there and then look around. Tell her that I must’ve left my jacket there.”

“Are you hearing yourself?!” Sam shouted. “That’s fucking weird! You left your jacket and you want it back a year later??? Do you know how suspicious that sounds?! Just straight up ask her!”

“I don’t have her number!” Tom hissed.

“Grow a pair and ask her brother! I won’t help you do your dirty work. Besides, if she did have a child that she hid from you, she has a reason for doing so. If she wants to keep the kid away from you, then she has every right to do that.” Sam told him.

Sam had a point. A minute later, Tom hung up and exited the bathroom to find Timmy. He looked around and he couldn’t find him anywhere. When he asked Timmy’s friend, they told him that he left. It devastated Tom.

A week later, Timmy flew to London to stay with you for a couple weeks. Because he hasn’t seen Beau in a while, he decided to go on a roadtrip with Beau to somewhere far away so you can have some alone time. Your alone time was ruined when someone knocked on your door. You looked through the peephole and furrowed your eyebrows when you saw Tom.

“What the fuck.” You said as soon as you opened the door.

“Hey, Y/N.” Tom said with his hands in his pockets. “May I come in?”

“No.” You said and closed the door, but Tom stopped it with his foot. You inwardly groaned and opened the door again to face him. “What?”

“Where’s my son?” Tom asked.

Inheriting your great acting skills from your older brother, you acted like you didn’t know what he was talking about. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You asked.

“Don’t bullshit me. I overheard Timmy talking to you last week. He was talking about a nephew and a deadbeat dad.” Tom snapped.

“Why are you listening to conversations that don’t concern you?” You asked angrily. Tom shook his head and invited himself inside your flat. You rolled your eyes and sarcastically said, “Sure, come in. Be my guest and make yourself at home, will you?”

You closed the door and walked to the living room as Tom walked around the flat in search of a little boy that he hoped would resemble him. He found the room he once shared with you and saw a crib there. He went back to the living room and asked, “Where is he?”

“It doesn’t concern you.” You simply said.

“I have every right to know because I’m his father!” Tom shouted.

“You just gave me your sperm and I did all the work with the help of my brother. You’re technically a sperm donor, Thomas.” You said with your arms crossed. “Besides, you went back to your girl. I didn’t have the time to tell you.”

“You could’ve-”

“No, I couldn’t. Do you know how that’ll turn out? It’ll be messy! You have a relationship to prioritize and I can’t imagine how she’ll feel when finds out that the girl you cheated on her with is having your baby! That would totally suck! I was thinking of her more than you because she’s been through so much hurt. I wish I could apologize to her, but she probably hates me.” You admitted.

“Fuck that shit. You could’ve told me! When was I supposed to see him? Huh? You took him away from me! I want my son and I have every right to have him! You're so selfish!" Tom yelled angrily.

Tears streamed down your face as you looked at him while you sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and calmly said, "You got your girl back. You got all your dream roles and you are constantly wanted by directors for their movies. You have friends and family who are supportive of you. You have parents who love you and cherish you because according to them, you're the best thing that's ever happened to them. You have all the money in the world to support yourself and there's no doubt that you'll be financially secure for the next ten years. You have everything that I've always wanted."

"Tom, I don't have anyone by my side; I'm single. I've been single ever since you left me. I never got my dream roles and I rarely get casted for anything and if I do get casted, I play either a whore or a mistress because that's what the public sees me as. My whole reputation is now tainted as 'Tom Holland's side chick' and the media will forever portray me as that. It wasn't even my fault because you never told me that you were in a relationship that was hidden from the public."

"Ever since news broke out about you cheating on your girlfriend with me, I lost all my friends. They're all disgusted with me now and everyone thinks I'm a liar when I tell them that I never knew you were taken. My parents? They don't like me; they never did. I may be the youngest, but I was a mistake that they decided to keep because my siblings wanted me. My parents never loved me and they never supported me. I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to them. I don't have all the money in the world because like I said, I rarely get casted for anything. I don't want to live off of my brother's money because he worked hard for it. I struggle to make ends meet and I struggle to find work and I'm doing my best at that while being a single mother for MY son."

You sighed as you wiped the hot tears that never stopped falling from your eyes. "My son is the best thing that's ever happened to me and he's the ONE THING I did right. He's also the one good thing that came out of our little mistake. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's the only one I have and you want to take him away from me? Hell, he's the reason why I'm alive right now. When I look at him, I want to be better so he can have better. You don't understand that, Tom. Just because you're a hot shot doesn't mean you can get everything that you want."

"I just want to be with him. I want him to live with me for a while." Tom said.

"Over my dead body, Thomas." You said sternly. "You can't just strut in here like you own the place. I'm sorry you had to find out through someone else, but I won't let you take him from me."

"Were you planning on telling me?" He asked and you shook your head.

"You told me that being with me was a mistake and that you didn't want anything that has to do with me. So, I kept my mouth shut when I found out. I hid it well and when I did an indie film where I was, you guessed it, a mistress, I was already 5 months pregnant. But I hid it well."

"I just want to help you because I was absent in this child's life."

"I got through it with the help of my siblings, especially Timmy, but I did most of it alone. If I can do it alone now until the rest of my life, I'll do it. I don't need you."

"The kid needs a father and that's me."

"No, he doesn't. You're just thinking that because it's like a trophy for you."

"That's not true." Tom shook his head. "My parents want grandkids and he's my son. I want them to know him."

"They can have grandkids the right way. My son was born out of marriage. I'm sure they'd want their grandkid to be a legitimate child." You told him before getting up from the couch and walking to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

"Lock the door on your way out, Thomas." You called out from the kitchen before drinking water. Tom sighed before leaving and slamming the door on his way out. ‘The audacity of that man.’ you thought as you shook your head.

Tom went to the pub with the boys and told them everything. Sam shook his head and said, “You pushed through it?! You pushed through your stupid plan of seeing her?! That’s really stupid!”

“Watch your mouth, Sam.” Tom spat.

“You shouldn’t have done that. Besides, she’s right. Nadia will be really hurt if she found out that Y/N’s having your baby. If Y/N can do it without you, she can manage. Just leave her alone. At least you know.”

“Yes, but I want to see him at least. I missed one year of his life. I want to be there for him forever.” Tom frowned.

“You can’t.” Sam shook his head.

“I agree.” Harry nodded. “You ruined Y/N’s reputation and that kid is the only thing that holds Y/N together. She kept it a secret because she wants it all to herself because the media will say shit about her again. If you’re in the kid’s life, you’ll be exposing him to the dangers of the media. She’s just being a mum and that means she’s not risking it.”

“Well said, Harry.” Harrison nodded. “He has a point. You’re not good at keeping secrets either.”

“So what should I do?” Tom asked.

“Nothing.” Tuwaine answered. “Don’t do shit until Y/N says so. Besides, her brother can straight up kill you because you broke her heart and you’re forcing yourself in her son’s life like nothing happened. You’d be a dead man. Imagine the headlines.”

Harrison laughed, “It’s hilarious; ‘Tom Holland killed by Timothée Chalamet’! You’re sending yourself to your own grave, mate.”

Tom sighed heavily as his brothers and friends laughed at his misery.

You told Timmy about Tom’s visit and it angered him. You had to stop him from going to Tom’s flat to give him a piece of his mind. You assured him that Tom wouldn’t bother anymore and that it’s up to you if you want Beau to know who his father is.

It wasn’t until you got your big acting break that you revealed Beau to the public. You’ve been casted in a big movie alongside Timmy and you’ve never been happier. You confided with Timmy and he agreed that it was time to reveal Beau.

You saw Tom’s comment on your Instagram post and ignored it. It’s his first time seeing how Beau looks and he’s probably shocked that Beau doesn’t look like him. Tom messaged you on Instagram and you didn’t want to reply at first, but you figured that it’s been years. Beau is now 4 years old and you knew it was time to let go of your past. It was time for a new chapter. You replied to his message on Instagram and began talking.

With Timmy’s advice and consultation, you allowed Tom to meet Beau and if he wants to, he can visit him every other weekend as long as he follows your rules.

You finally spoke to Nadia about your past issue and now both of you are okay. She believed every word you said and you thanked her for that. She even said that Beau was a very bright child with a great future ahead of him.

Tom wasn’t around all the time due to his schedule, but whenever he’s in the country with a free schedule, he makes sure to give it to Beau. They may not be as close as Tom would like, but at least they were getting along.

You moved on with your life and you finally got everything that you wished for. You got your dream roles, your parents were finally trying to have a decent relationship with you, your sister was around you more, the media was finally asking your side of the story to clear your name, you’re financially secure, Timmy finally moved in with you to help you with Beau, and you started dating someone again. Life is great.

* * * *

sorry if the ending shitty

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12 @more-like-reyna @caitsymichelle13

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shots #tom holland angst #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh #chalamet!reader #timothee chamalet

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lu-undy · 3 years ago

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Happy birthday, Solitude But Two!

Here is a bonus Chapter!

"You guys will be alright, yeah?"

"Of course, Micky, it's not the first time you leave the kitties with us."

"But it's gonna be more than an evenin' this time. Also, before I forget, I put one of Lu's shirts in the bag, they need it to sleep, don't forget it or they'll harass you until you give it to them."

Perle was gladly following Caroline around while Soot lay on Mike's lap, purring as the old man gently massaged the black cat.

"Bah, we raised you and we used to have cats as well as dogs."

"Your Mum's right." Mike answered from the sofa. "We'll be fine. You go and have fun with Lucien. Did you tell him by the way?"

"Nah, not yet. I'm keepin' it a surprise for him. Speaking of, I really gotta go or we’ll be late. He’s waitin’ to have lunch with me before I take him."

"You arranged everythin'?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, almost. Right, you guys take care, alright?"

"We will, Micky, you go and have your fun with your Lu'." Caroline answered as Mundy opened the front door.

"Meow!" Perle came trotting to her father and Soot jumped out of Mike's lap to join her.

"Oh, sure, baby, c'mere you guys…" Mundy squatted down and dealt headbutts and scratches left and right to both the felines. "You behave with Grandma and Grandpa, yeah?"

"Meow."

"Good babies." He left a kiss on their heads and pushed himself back to stand up. "See ya!"

"See you in a few weeks, Micky!"

A few moments later, the Aussie was on his motorcycle, racing through the streets and in his own mind. He had been preparing this for a while now.

It had been one year.

One year since he had put a ring on Lucien's finger and vice versa. Well, it would be one year exactly in a few days and this was what it was all about, celebrating the first anniversary of Lucien and him being… well… husbands?

Of course, their legal status remained single but in their hearts and their heads, they were very much taken and faithful to each other. Mundy never did attract a lot of attention from ladies and gents, but Lucien…

Every time the couple was having dinner outside, or enjoying a party with the few friends they had made, one person would walk to Lucien and hit on him. The first time it happened, it was a woman but Mundy nonetheless felt the itch to show her the rings, Lucien's and his. As he came close to his lover, he heard Lucien chuckle at the poor woman's attempt to pull her into her bed. He remembered it with a smile now…

“Oh, here you are, Mundy.”

“Hey, Lu.”

The woman had raised her eyes to the Aussie.

“This your friend?” She asked.

“More than that…” Lucien put a hand on Mundy’s chest and leaned on him. “Please meet my everything, Mundy. Mundy, this is the charming Amanda.”

“Hey there.” Mundy had stuck to being cold but polite, a defensive hand went to grab his Lucien and pull him to himself, almost defensively.

“What d’you mean, ‘your everything’?” She chuckled with a raised eyebrow, confused and slightly mocking.

“I mean this.” Lucien answered and pulled Mudy’s neck down for the Aussie to be at his lips height. He pushed a loving kiss on his lips and released him. Mund opened his eyes again, his mind still on the kiss even though Lucien’s lips had parted from his.

Amanda’s jaw hung low and wide.

“He is my husband, look!” Lucien went on, uphased. “This is the ring. It has only been a few months, mind you, time flies, but we love each other as if we were half our ages… Oh? Amanda?”

The woman had spun on her heels and left, leaving Lucien to chuckle and turn back to Mundy.

“So, mon loup, are you enjoying your evening?”

[My wolf]

“Uh… Y-yeah… Wasn’t she hittin’ on you?” Mundy nodded in the direction of the woman.

“She was, very much.” Lucien answered. “But for some reason she left now. I cannot think why… Women shall remain a mystery!”

“Maybe that’s cause you snogged me like there’s no tomorrow in front of her?” Mundy answered.

“Oh, that? Maybe.” Lucien answered and leaned against Mundy’s shoulder again. He stared at the woman refilling her glass with whatever strong alcohol she could find before he raised his light blue eyes to his lover.

They exchanged a smile.

“You’re a devil, you know that?” Mundy said.

“Maybe, but I am having great fun.”

“Why did you do that to her? You could have just said that you were already with someone.”

“And miss this laughter we shared? For nothing in the world. This ring that she chose to ignore,” Lucien raised his hand to Mundy. “It means that I vowed to make you happy. You did laugh, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. “

“Then I am upholding my vows. Très bien.”

[Very well]

“You’re mean, Lu’. Look at her now…”

“I am not mean. If anything, she was.”

“What?!” Mundys eyebrows jumped in surprise.

“I am wearing my engagement ring and she still chooses to approach me. She knew she was taking a risk and she liked the thrill of it. Well, let this be a lesson for her: not all the risks are worth taking, Madame Amanda.”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Mundy agreed.

And Mundy reached his destination, which pulled him out of his daydream. He parked the motorcycle safely and entered his house.

“Mon loup, c’est toi?”

[My wolf, is that you?]

“Oui, mon amour.”

[Yes, my love.]

Lucien rose from his armchair and met his love at the front door.

"Your accent when you speak French is delicious…" He said before pushing himself to the tip of his toes and kissing Mundy.

"I'm makin' progress, aren't I?" Mundy laced his arms around Lucien's waist.

"Oui, but please, never lose your accent."

"If it goes like it does with you, I'll still have my accent in a hundred years."

"Are you saying I am old?" Lucien frowned in an exaggeratedly sad way.

"I'm not the one spendin' my time sayin' 'You'll see when you get to my age', eh!"

"Pfff…"

They chuckled together.

"You ready?" Mundy asked.

"Where are you taking me for lunch?"

"Where d'you think?"

"Hm…" The couple exited the house and Mundy locked the door as Lucien thought out loud. "Maybe the new Lebanese place that opened in town? I am told it is exquisite and very reasonable in price."

"Since when d'you care about the price of things?" Mundy smiled. "Oh, no, no, Lu', we're not goin' with the bike. I called a taxi."

"Oh? This means that you intend to get drunk, so maybe the Irish pub? But isn't it early to get drunk?"

"Never too early to be with you, baby." Mundy raised his arm for the taxi to stop while Lucien's blush took a moment to fade.

They both embarked in the taxi.

"Where to, Sir?" The driver asked.

"Where I told you on the phone, please." Mundy answered.

"Alright." The driver let his foot press on the gas pedal and off they all went.

"Tu me caches des secrets?"

[You are holding secrets from me?]

"Oui." Mundy answered.

"Dis-moi où tu m'emmènes." Lucien asked.

[Tell me where you are taking me.]

Mundy shook his head and took a glance in the inside rear view mirror. The driver was busy. Good. The Aussie slid his hand to take his lover’s.

“C’est une surprise, doll.” He answered with his accent.

[It’s a surprise.]

“D’accord.” Lucien smiled and nodded.

[Very well.]

And the ride took them away from where the usual restaurants the couple frequented used to go. Lucien straightened his back and looked through the window. He started frowning when he saw the control tower of the airport, the same one he had landed in, a few years ago now. And it got him thinking. What if he could go back and see the Lucien that disembarked on the plane that day. Would the slightly younger Lucien believe him if he had told him what he would become? What would he even tell him?

Tu rencontreras l’homme de ta vie et ta vie basculera. Tu ne demanderas plus comment ni pourquoi. Tu vivras l’instant, tout simplement, comme quand tu avais vingt ans. Tu vivras et aimeras, comme quand tu avais vingt ans. Tu seras heureux comme jamais tu ne l’as été.

[You will meet the man of your life and your life will flip upside down. You will not wonder how or why anymore. You will live the instant, simply, as you did when you were twenty. You will live and you will love, as you did when you were twenty. You will be happy as you never were before.]

Would the younger Lucien believe him or would he laugh at him, scornful and disdainful, before he would realise that perhaps, the older him was senile, old, and out of his mind?

Pff, in the end, Lucien did not even care. He smiled at that version of himself. The bitter, cynical and lonely old man. He was now even older, but so much happier…!

"Lu'?"

Mundy's voice broke the Frenchman's train of thought.

"Oui?"

"Je t'aime."

[I love you.]

Mundy said those words with such honesty in his eyes that Lucien's cheeks turned pink on their own.

"Moi aussi."

[Me too.]

He smiled back at him and clenched his fingers a bit harder between Mundy's.

"Alright, we're gettin' there, Sir. Which door should I drop you at?" The driver asked.

"Departures, please." Mundy answered, his eyes sealed on Lucien's and the Frenchman's eyebrows jumped.

"Departures?" He repeated.

"Yeah."

"Are we… travelling?"

"Yeah."

"But Mundy, we haven't taken any luggage with us?"

"Don't be silly." Mundy gently chuckled as the driver parked.

Both men exited the car and Mundy winked at Lucien.

"C'mon, Lu', keep up! We don't wanna miss the flight…!"

"W-wait!" Lucien caught up with his lover.

The airport was as busy as an anthill. People coming, going, running, pushing carts, holding their hats on their heads as they ran.

"Mundy, were you serious?"

"Course I am! We're goin', c'mon!" Mundy glanced up at a screen and quickly spun on his heels to change direction. Lucien followed, sometimes even trotting after his lover.

"But where are we going?"

"Told you, and in French at that, it's a surprise."

"You cannot keep the surprise going forever, I will soon know." Lucien answered.

"Yeah, but meanwhile, I'm likin' this whole 'Lu' doesn't know what's happenin'' business." Mundy smirked and looked down at Lucien, which he knew the Frenchman had a weakness for.

"I shall find out myself!"

"Alright, good luck, Sherlock." Mundy winked and Lucien smiled.

They walked through halls and corridors.

"Uh, uh, uh! Gimme what you took from my pocket back!" Mundy stopped walking and turned to Lucien

"How could you possibly know?!" Lucien stopped. "I made every effort for you not to feel it!"

"You stole somethin' from my back pocket." Mundy said and opened his palm flat. "Give it back…"

"How did you know?" Lucien frowned.

Mundy sighed with a smile. He took the step that separated him from his lover and bent slightly such that his lips were next to the Frenchman's ear.

"I felt you touched my butt, and I liked it."

"Ah…" Lucien lowered his head and raised the plane tickets that he had taken from Mundy's back pocket.

"Thank you, now stop bein' a spook and follow me."

They went on following sign after sign and looking at all the screens they met.

"Here, that's the search thingy. I hope you don't have your blade with you." Mundy said as they queued.

"What do you take me for?"

Both men started undoing their belts. Mundy removed his glasses and his hat. When the Aussie finished, he walked through the metal detector and soon after, his lover followed him.

BEEP!

"Ah, oui, I must explain myself." Lucien calmly said and Mundy observed the scene. "This is my passport. If you run a check on me, you will understand."

The security employee took the passport and disappeared for a while. He came back and his colleague stopped him.

"Hey, don't let him go, he had a knife in his belongings!"

"No, we have to let him go." The man handed Lucien his passport back. "With the knife and all. Have a good day, Sir, and sorry for the inconvenience."

"No problem, you are but doing your job, Monsieur." Lucien took his belongings back and left the area. "Mundy? Are you coming? I do not know which gate we should head to."

Mundy had been standing there, his belt half put on, half still dangling down. His jaw had dropped as he watched.

"Uh, y-yeah."

"Mundy." Lucien stopped him.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should finish putting your belt first?" Lucien tilted his head on the side and Mundy looked down at his waist.

"Ah, uh, yeah…"

A few moments later, both of them were standing in front of a screen.

"Well, this is the moment where you'll see where I'm takin' you, doll."

"Oui, it is. So? Which gate shall we go to?"

"Forty-five."

Lucien's eyes scanned the screen.

"Oh… Mundy, but… Why Paris?"

"Because I love you, and I wanna see what it's like over there."

"I…"

"C'mon, let's go."

When they sat on the metallic, back-breaking bench at the gate, they chose a corner where they could be alone and in peace.

"Mundy, why go to Paris, honestly?" Lucien looked up at his lover.

"Told you. I wanna see what your life was like when you were there. I mean… I know you told me you're not from there. But still… Besides, you've been livin' with me in Oz for a while, you've seen me and my life, I wanna see yours."

"I have indeed seen the Bushman in his natural habitat." Both exchanged a chuckle.

"Look, if you don't want it, we can go back home. I don't wanna force you, baby." Mundy cast his eye around and dropped his hat on his thigh. He then slid his hand and pulled Lucien's underneath it. The Frenchman felt Mundy's thumb brush against the back of his hand.

"So, what d'you say?" Mundy asked.

"I say we go and I will show you the city where I grew up." Lucien answered.

"You sure?"

"We are about to board, Mundy, it is rather late to turn and go back home, non?"

"No, not at all. If you feel awkward or anythin', we can go back home. I wanted to make it a surprise for you but the point's not for you to feel weird about it."

"Non, Mundy, you are right. I should show you." Lucien clenched his grip on Mundy's hand.

"You sure? I mean, are you happy to do it?"

"Delighted."

And Mundy took a second to stare in his lover’s eyes. Was he lying just to please him? To not make him feel awkward? The Aussie slightly squinted. He looked through the crystal clear irises to see the soul beyond them. Were Lucien’s lips deceiving the Aussie? Bah, it wouldn’t be the first time but… When was the last time that Lucien had lied?

Hm.

Oh! Yeah, Mundy remembered it, it was…

At the lake, almost exactly one year before, the wig. Lucien had worn a wig because he thought his lover could only look at him with the eyes of love when he made himself more feminine. It was obviously wrong and Mundy had tossed the long-haired lie away. That was Lucie’s last one.

Mundy blinked and his eyebrow relaxed. Lucien was not lying. He was looking up at the Aussie with eyes that screamed his limitless love for him.

“Alright then, doll. Glad you’re happy to show me around.”

“Of course.” Lucien answered. “I am surprised by this trip but welcome it warmly. I think we should probably have done that before but I suppose we did not stop to think about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Got any ideas on what we should see?”

“Apart from the classics like the Tour Eiffel, the Arc de triomphe, and other tourist attractions? Hm, I shall think about it.”

“Can I ask you to show me some stuff in particular?”

“But of course. What do you have in mind?”

“Where you lived, where you worked, places you liked to eat at, that kind of thing.”

"I will."

They exchanged a conniving smile and the call to board the plane interrupted them.

"Ready, baby?"

"Oui."

"Right, let's go and queue."

A few minutes later, both found their seats in the plane and Mundy looked through the window. The sky was blue despite the relative cold of winter. Well, once in Paris, it will be summer… The plane took off and when the couple was higher in the sky than the clouds themselves, Lucien looked up at Mundy on his left.

“I am surprised.”

“You’d better. Been hidin’ evidence of everything.”

“How did you do it?”

“Gave the tickets and everything to my Mum.” Mundy smiled. “I even tried to not think about it. I never know with you; could turn out that you can read my thoughts or somethin’.”

Lucien chuckled.

“I could indeed.” He confirmed with a lingering smirk on his lips. “However, I choose not to.”

“Why?”

“The Lucien of the previous life used to read minds because he needed it.”

“And now it’s just a hobby?” Mundy chuckled.

“Almost.” Lucien answered. “Non, I value my relationship too much with you to not give you the same privacy that you give me. It is a question of respect. However, it is cute to see you try to read me to see if I lie sometimes.”

“Ah, uh, well…” Mundy scratched the back of his head. “Sorry... I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you…”

“Not at all. It gives me the impression that you really want to know what is going on in my head, which I appreciate.”

“Really?”

“Oui, I like this side of you, the side that wants to read all my fears in my eyes before I am fully aware of them.”

Mundy blushed.

“Yeah, well… Sorry, can’t help it.”

“It is a gift and a blessing, thank you for being so.”

“You’re welcome, baby. But uh, Lu’?”

“Oui?”

“Why did you say you were surprised?”

“Ah…” Lucien chuckled before he even gave the answer. “I did not take you for the business class ticket kind of a man.”

“I was gonna go for the economy thing, but then Mum said that in business we’d get a booth and we wouldn’t be bothered by people givin’ us looks. So I can do this…” Mundy reached for Lucien’s hand and took it. “And no one’ll look weird at us.”

“Cutely thoughtful of you, mon loup.”

“You can thank my Mum for that.”

Both chuckled and Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder.

“I will, but in the meantime, thank you, mon amour.”

Minutes passed that turned into hours and the sky naturally darkened. After the dinner they were handed in, the couple closed their eyes.

“Mornin’, luv’.”

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

[Good morning, my love.]

Both yawned, woken up by the bright morning sun above the clouds.

“Slept well?”

“I think my neck will hate me for a few hours only. What about you?”

“My legs…”

“How long do we have left until we land?”

“Uh…” Mundy checked his watch. “A few hours…?”

“Mundy.”

“Some number of hours…?”

“Mon loup.”

“Alright, ok, we got three hours left.”

“That isn’t that bad, actually.” Lucien answered, surprised.

“Yup. Oh, Lu’, I just thought about something.”

“Oui?”

“Uhm… Y’know how I told you I wanted to visit your workplace?”

“Oui, I remember.”

“How’re you gonna do it? I mean you're supposed to be dead for the Ministry back there, aren’t you?”

“Indeed, I am. You will have to call me by my second name when we get there so as not to raise suspicions.”

“But you still look like yourself. People will recognise you, won’t they?”

“Non, they will not. I was once a spy: entering places I shouldn't be while being someone I am not was my occupation for decades and not a trade easily forgotten.” Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy. “Do not worry, I will show you the Ministry.” He smiled tenderly.

“Alright, I trust you. But if you think we can’t make it or somethin’, there’s no shame in sayin’ it.”

“Non, absolutely not, you are right. But this will be easy.”

A few hours and a nap later, the pilot announced the imminent landing. Mundy looked at the city below the plane. He could see a river flowing, zigzagging through the capital.

“C’est la Seine.”

[It is the Seine.]

“Oh…”

“Ca, c’est l’île Saint-Louis… Et ça ? tu peux me dire ce que c’est ?”

[This is the Saint-Louis Island… And this? Can you tell me what it is?]

Lucien pointed and Mundy squinted to see better.

“It’s… Oh! C’est la Tour Eiffel, non?”

[It’s the Eiffel Tower, isn’t it?]

Mundy answered in French and Lucien looked at him as he always did, yet each time, the Aussie couldn’t help but fall slightly deeper for his lover.

“Oui, c’est la tour Eiffel.”

[Yes, it is the Eiffel Tower.]

Lucien confirmed.

“It’s the real thing? It’s tiny…”

Lucien’s smile vanished.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s tiny! I thought it was supposed to be very tall!”

“Well, you will climb it using the stairs and I swear to God your thighs will make you regret these words!” Lucien answered and Lundy burst into laughter.

“I’m jokin’, you sensitive, patriotic old baby…”

“Hm, joking now, aren’t you…? I will still make you climb to the top of it on the stairs.”

“How many steps is it to the top, d’you know?”

“One thousand six hundred and sixty-five. It takes between half an hour and forty-five minutes to climb it to the second floor which is not even the top.”

“You're pulling that out of your arse, aren’t you?”

“You shall see….!” Lucien leaned back on his seat with a smug smile on his lips.

“Hm… Hold on, we aren’t gettin’ closer to the ground, the Eiffel Tower’s still tiny…”

“It is because it is forbidden to fly over Paris.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oui, I am, it has been so since the Second World War, if I remember correctly.”

“Woah… You guys know no Germans are gonna come and bully you again, don’t you?”

“We know. But we would rather keep our sky blue and free of planes.” Lucien answered.

“Fair enough. Makes it more calm I guess."

When the plane landed and both made it through, Mundy held Lucien back in front of the airport's closed doors.

"Hold on, before we step into actual Paris…"

"Oui?"

"I love you, Lu'."

Lucien smiled.

"I love you too."

"Alright, now, we can go."

They took a step more and the doors slid open. The first rays on the Parisian summer sun hit their skin warmly and the lightest of breezes grazed their cheeks before rolling up to the sky.

“Here we are then, eh? Paris.” Mundy said looking around him.

“We are outside of the city itself but I guess you booked a hotel inside?” Lucien asked.

“Actually, I didn’t.”

“Oh?” Lucien raised surprised eyebrows.

“I was kind of counting on you to know where to go…?” Mundy admitted with a half ashamed smile.

“Oh, of course. I have recommendations.”

“You choose then, Lu’. I looked up the hotels and stuff but there were too many of them and I didn’t know which one to pick.”

“It is fine, let us call a taxi, I know where we should go.” Lucien smiled.

“Thanks, Lu’.”

“My pleasure.”

After half an hour inside a taxi, both stepped out in front of a hotel and Lucien waited for the car to disappear behind him.

“Welcome to the Ritz.” Lucien said and Mundy looked up to take the large three-floor building in. The architecture was nothing like he had seen so far. At the end of a flight of stairs hidden by a red carpet, the doors stood wide and tall between spiral-trimmed slim plants and equally fancy dressed porters. A French flag was flying above the double door that put a slight proud smile on Lucien’s lips. The walls were all made out of light beige stone and on each floor, rectangular windows were neatly and equally spaced. On the first floor were slim balconies adorned with a golden plated logo of the hotel. As Mundy’s eyes followed the column of clean stones, jumping from one window to the one above, he noticed that high up, the roof was covered in dark slate with windows surrounded by smoothly moulded, light beige stone.

“Gosh…”

“Come on, we both need a shower at least.” Lucien smiled at how absorbed Mundy was by the looks of the building.

The couple decided to take a few days of rest and let the jet-lag fade away slowly. They had their clothes bought and delivered to them at the hotel and enjoyed their meals either in their suite or in the restaurant downstairs.

“What did you say the room we’re in was called?”

Lucien chuckled.

“It is not a room, but a suite, mon amour, and it is called the Coco Chanel suite.”

“Funny name…”

“It is the name of a prestigious designer. She designed the room herself.”

“She was French?”

“Oui, she was.”

“Ah, guess it makes sense… How much is it per night?”

“A price that pales next to that of your company.” Lucien poetically answered.

“Thanks, Lu, but I meant in Francs?”

“About a hundred…”

“Oh that’s quite cheap for a suite.”

“... Thousand Francs per night.”

“WHAT?!” Mundy almost spat his coffee out.

Lucien burst out laughing, catching his breath in the short little snorts that Mundy fell in love with.

The next couple of days were spent visiting all the tourist-heavy places: the Eiffel Tower, the cathedral of Notre-Dame, the Palace of Versailles… Mundy saw more paintings and sculptures in those few days than he did in his entire life.

“Stop.”

Lucien’s voice was firm, too firm and cold to be addressing Mundy. The Aussie turned and saw Lucien with his hand on a young man's wrist.

“Hold on, that’s my wallet in your hand…!” Mundy snatched it back from the stranger's hand.

“La prochaine fois que tu pick-pocket quelqu’un, choisis mieux ta cible et ne regarde pas autant que ça à droite et à gauche, on te voit venir à des kilomètres.”

[Next time you pickpocket someone, choose your target more carefully and don’t look so much left and right, you are telegraphing all your moves.]

The young man opened wide eyes and as soon as Lucien released his wrist, he darted off.

“Attends.”

He stopped and turned to Lucien, a few metres away from him.

“Tiens. Et tu n’es pas mauvais, tu devrais en faire quelque chose.”

[Here. And you are not bad, you should do something out of it.]

Lucien handed him a note. The young man took it and left.

“You gave him money?” Mundy asked.

“Oui.” Lucien resumed his walk and Mundy followed him.

“Why?”

“Because stealing is rarely a hobby. If one does it, it is out of necessity. Throwing this young man in a cell will not help him at all. On the other hand, helping him such should.”

Mundy fell silent for a moment.

“Besides,” Lucien started speaking again. “I was once this young man, only I never got caught.”

The next day, the couple woke up normally. Good, the jet-lag had finally passed.

“Mundy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to visit the ministry today?”

The half woken up Australian opened wide eyes in a flash.

“Sure. Uhm, how are we gonna do this?”

“I have an idea. But I need to call Maurice first. You go and take a shower, I will telephone him and will let you know.”

“Alright.”

A couple of hours later, both men stood in front of an elegant building in the heart of the fifth district of Paris, or as Mundy liked to call it ‘the fancy one”.

“Shall we?” Lucien asked.

“I’d follow you but ho ‘re we gonna go through these soldiers?”

Two military looking people were guarding the entry and checking everyones credentials.

“As easy as just follow me.” Lucien answered with a smile before he took the flight of stairs up and met with the soldiers.

“Bonjour, Messieurs. Nous venons de la part de Maurice de Ronzières, en Australie.”

[Good morning gentlemen. We come on behalf of Maurice de Ronzières, in Australia.]

“Je dois vérifier.”

[I must check.]

“Faites donc.”

[Pray do.]

Both men waited at the door and when the guard came back to them, he let them in.

“Gosh, Lu’ - I mean, Louis… We’re in…”

“Oui, welcome to a place that they redecorated and I barely recognise…” Lucien shook his head disappointedly as he held his hips.

“That means we can’t visit it cause you don’t know where stuff is anymore?”

“Non, non.”

“Then why d’you look uh… not happy with it?”

“Because they redecorated and made it is ugly!” Lucien raised his arms in the air before letting them drop again. “Had I been still alive, I would have given the Minister of Defense a piece of my mind…!”

“Hold on…!” Mundy caught up with his lover and walked through the corridors.

They abruptly stopped walking in front of a small door hidden under the stairs, on which Lucien gave a few knocks.

“Qui est-ce?” A muffled, old man’s voice asked.

[Who is it?]

“C’est moi.” Lucien answered and the door opened.

[It’s me.]

“Grand Dieu, Maurice a dit vrai…!”

[Good Lord, Maurice spoke the truth…!]

A short, skinny, old man emerged from what Mundy understood was the broom closet. He had lost most of his hair on his head and wore round, thick glasses.

“Comment allez vous, Georges?” Lucien opened his arms and the old man took a step forward and hugged him.

[How are you, Georges?]

"Ça doit faire une éternité! Les cheveux gris vous changent, Louis, mais je vous reconnais bien.”

[It must have been an eternity since last time. Grey hair makes you look so different, Louis, but I still recognise you.]

“Parlez-vous un peu d’anglais?”

[Do you happen to speak a bit of English?]

“Oh, j’ai les rudiments, à force d’entendre tout ce qui se passe…!”

[Oh, I learnt the basics on the fly here, as I’m forced to hear bits here and there…!]

“Then,” Lucien naturally switched to English. “Please meet my husband, Mundy.”

Mundy blushed beyond his ears. It was so uncommon for Lucien to introduce him as his husband straight away.

“And Mundy, please meet Georges, the ultimate spy.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mundy extended his hand and the old man shook it with a smile.

“Does he understand French?” Georges asked, his accent so thick that next to him, Lucien sounded like a native…!

“Bits, oui, I have been teaching him.” Lucien answered.

“Then, mes félicitations, mon garçon!”

[Congratulations, my boy!]

“Oh, uh, thanks… But how are you the ultimate spy?” Mundy asked.

“We can chat as we walk, boys, come on, follow me!” The old man pulled a trolley of rags, dusters and all kinds of cleaning products out of the closet before he started pushing it. Lucien and Mundy followed him.

“Georges here is responsible for the cleanliness of everything you see. He also happens to have the keys to every room in this building apart from a very select few of them. And all of that makes Georges the best guide to this place." Lucien explained as the trio walked through the corridor.

The old man pushed his trolley through the corridors, making sure to take all the stair cases that nobody usually takes.

"And I forgot to say," Lucien added through Georges' explanation of the rooms and corridors. "This man here is invisible to everyone meaning that if we stick to him, we become invisible too."

"And so you don't break your cover… Ah, I get it…" Mundy nodded to himself.

"Georges, could you take us to the portrait room, please?"

"Yes, I can. They didn't move it cause they say history can't be changed." The old man answered, the keys jiggling from his belt loop.

"Ah, perfect."

Georges took a second to unlock the door and push it open.

"You have ten minutes, fifteen tops, before my colleague comes here to dust everything off. I'll try and buy you some time but he's young and finds I talk too much so he usually just leaves me alone to do his job. Counting on you, boys, be careful with the time!"

"We will be. Merci infiniment, Georges."

[Thank you infinitely, Georges.]

"Avec plaisir."

[My pleasure.]

Both men entered and Lucien shut the large, wooden double doors after them.

“Wow, what’s this place? Who’re these people?” Mundy said as he found himself in a room surrounded by painted or printed portraits. The oldest were black and white engravings while the most recent ones were coloured.

“This is the portrait room. It contains the photograph, painting or engraving of every man who made a decisive contribution to the establishment or security of this country.” Lucien explained. “Please, do have a look.”

Mundy started walking in what felt more like an art gallery than a room. He admired the faces, sometimes commenting on the military attire or the old style moustaches and beards. Lucien tried his best to recall the bits of history he knew about those important figures of the country, mentioning a few anecdotes when his memory allowed him to.

“Golden frames for everyone, eh? That’s fancy as all hell…” Mundy said.

“Indeed it is.” Lucien answered. “I am told that nowadays, when young spies finish their training, they are brought here and come out of this room with the hope that one day, their face will be on thiese walls.”

“Yeah, I can get the enthusiasm.” Mundy said. “Oh, Lu’... Hold on… Is that…?” Munddy squinted in front of a photograph and took a step forward. His eyes zigzagged on that of the man with light eyes and coal black hair. “Bloody hell, isn’t that you?!”

Lucien chuckled.

“Guilty as charged.” The Frenchman said.

“How old were you on this? You look half the age of the others!”

“I started my career early and abruptly. Some would say I even started without knowing it myself. But to answer your question, I was in my early twenties in this picture.”

“Bloody hell… You look like an angel back then already.”

Lucien smiled.

“Merci.”

“What did you do to get your face up there?”

“I helped in the Résistance to free France from the Germans. I started as a courier boy, delivering messages until I grew up and understood that my, ahem, ease to approach women could be an asset for the country. Countless Nazi were caught through their wives and their mysterious lover.”

“You…?”

“Mh-hm, me. I broke a lot of German hearts back then, even before France’s liberation.” Lucien chuckled.

“Wow… Id love to take a picture of it.”

“We could take it back, if you want.”

“What?! You wanna steal it?!”

“It is my face and I am dead. I can claim it back.” Lucien shrugged.

“Hm.” Mundy fell deep in thought. “You know what?”

“Mh?”

“Leave it there.”

“You have changed your mind?”

“Yeah, leave it there for folks to look up at you and remember you. You changed my life, yeah, but you also changed an entire country before that. Let them have a souvenir.”

Lucien smiled.

“Very well, mon loup.”

The next day, the couple woke up with the first rays of light, wrapped in the satin sheet of the Coco Chanel suite at the Ritz.

“Lu’?”

“Oui?”

“Uhm, there’s somewhere I wanna take you today.”

“Oh?” Lucien’s surprise was obvious. Mundy wanted to take him somewhere? Where? Why? And above all, how? The Aussie had spent the past week or so following his lover blindly and complaining that he did not know how Lucien could know where he was going. “Sure, when do you want to go?”

“This evenin’, if that’s fine with you too. We can go have dinner somewhere and then we’ll go?”

“Perfect for me, Mundy.”

And for the entire day, Lucien kept on thinking about it. Where would Mundy take him…? Until of course it was time to go. He followed his tall lover through the streets. The Aussie stopped only a few times to check his map and make sure they were heading in the right direction.

“Alright, should be after this street.”

They stopped when they reached beautiful dark blue, wrought-iron gates.

“A park? You wanted to take me to a park?”

“I uh… I don't think it’s any odd park.” Mundy answered and Lucien frowned. They both entered and wandered inside, following the yellow narrow roads.

“Why did you want to bring me here, Mundy?”

“I think you guessed why.” Mundy answered. “You know we’re not in any park.”

“Indeed, I do, so why here?”

“Because it’s part of you and it’s important.” Mundy answered before he stopped walking. “Now, you gotta guide me.”

Lucien took a deep breath and let it all out in a long sigh.

“Très bien.” He started walking and it took a few minutes of silence before they reached their destination, under a tree.

“Is it here?” Mundy asked.

“Oui, it should be.”

“Gimme your blade.”

Lucien took it from his inner pocket and passed it to Mundy who went down to sit on his knees and started digging. The Frenchman waited, his arms wrapped around himself. He felt slightly cold even though the day had been scorching hot and he evening was still warm.

“Here we go...!” Mundy unearthed a small tin box. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” He stood up and dusted his knees off before both him and Lucien headed back.

When they were in their suite and alone, Mundy headed for the bathroom. He cleaned the box of all the soil on it and brought it back to the living-room on a towel. Lucien had been sitting on the sofa, his stare blank.

“You alright?”

“Oui,” He shook his head as if to land back into reality. “I was just lost in thought.”

“C’mon, ask me.” Mundy said and Lucien sighed.

“Why did you do this?”

“Because you told me that everythin’ that was you before was in a box, that you had buried it in a park in Paris as the rain was pouring down in the middle of the night. You told me that it has all sorts of things like pictures of you, maybe even of your family and everythin’.”

Mundy took a deep breath and took Lucien’s hand in his.

“It’s been one year of you and me bein’ a solid thing and it’s been even longer of us just spendin’ all our time together, and even longer of me lovin’ you to bits.” Lucien blushed at the last part and smiled shyly. “And today, it’s been exactly one year of us being a thing. I put a ring on your finger and you put one on mine one year ago exactly. I just… I don’t wanna make you feel bad at all, I love you, I just wanna see your life from before and beyond that, I want you to be at peace with what you were before.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t care what you were, I just want you to accept whatever's in that box as a part of you. It doesn’t need to be buried down in the ground, it shouldn’t be there. It should be with us, with our pictures and memories.”

Lucien had sat silently through his lover’s speech.

“You understand, baby doll?”

Lucien raised his eyes to his lover.

“You are right, Mundy.” He took the box and put it on his lap before gently opening it. “This is the only photo album I have ever bought in my life, before we got ours. The oldest pictures are of my parents, then me as a baby and a young boy. The next picture is when I was officially made a spy, after the end of the Second World War, during which I served in the Résistance.”

He flipped the pages and pointed for Mundy to follow.

“Wow, you were already gorgeous back then.”

“Thank you.”

The Aussie wrapped an arm around his lover to pull him close and Lucien leaned on him.

“Mundy?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know which hpark it was?” Lucien asked. “I don’t think I mentioned the name of it.”

“I asked Maurice for the park where we could spend some quality time that would mean something for you.”

“Ah, I see.” Lucien turned the page. “This is the few pictures of Marie and Jérémy that I have.”

“She was real pretty.”

“Oui, she was.” Lucien smiled at the pictures.

“And Jeremy kind of looked like you a bit, I mean, his hair’s lighter than yours but…”

“He was born blond like the sun.” Lucien said. “His hair darkened as he grew up and was dirty blond before he passed.”

“Oh, I see.”

“This is us, all together.”

“Look at you bein’ a dad… You look so comfy handlin’ the baby. I’m always scared when I’m handed a kid. Always scared to drop them or hurt them or somethin.”

Lucien smiled with nostalgia.

“You should not. They are indeed very fragile but you are very strong.” He turned his head and pushed his lips on Mundy’s.

“Thanks, luv’.”

“Thank you.” Lucien put the photo album aside.

“There’s more stuff in the box?”

“Oui. Here, this was my first ever blade.”

“Oh, you kept it?”

“Oui, as a souvenir. When I was in the Résistance, I never thought that doing what I was doing would turn me into a spy, get me a job and a life that is reasonably put together. I just did it because I could and I was told I had a gift for it.”

“And you went on to become the best spook ever.” Mundy said, recalling the portrait at the Ministry.

“Something like that.” Lucien smiled. “Here, this is all black and old, but it used to be silver and shining bright.” He handed a thin, yet very old string of metal to Mundy.

“It’s a bracelet?”

“It bears my name on it. It is a common gift that young children are offered here. I kept mine because it reminded me of my mother, whom I loved beyond everything else. Oh and this is a very old and worn out thing now, but I used to wear it to cover my mouth and nose, for people to not recognise me when I worked to liberate France.”

“It’s a black bandana?”

“It used to be Burgundy red.”

“We could give a polish to your bracelet and a good wash to your bandana. I’m not good with clothes but I’m sure there’s ways to bring it back to life.”

“I think so, oui. Ah, there it is… Although it is broken, this used to be the bracelet that I offered to Marie, when we first started to meet each other regularly.”

“It’s a pearl bracelet?”

“Oui, I have always liked pearls on women, I think it might be because my mother used to have a pearl necklace that she treasured more than anything else. It was a gift from my father. I remember as a child, I one day found it as I was prying into whatever I could lay my hands on in the house and she told me off for touching it.”

“Oh, wow…”

“Wow indeed.”

Mundy took a second to look at the way Lucien was looking at his belongings from another life. His eyes were almost dreamy and his gaze, very soft, filled with nostalgia and bittersweetness. And soon, the smile widened and it was not an awkward listing of antics but objects that threw the Frenchman’s mind back when pictures were only black and white, when uniforms were compulsory at school, when with a Franc, you could buy a mountain…

“Oh, I am enjoying this actually, Mundy.” Lucien raised his eyes to his lover. “Thank you so much, mon chéri.”

[My darling.]

“You're welcome. See? It’s better to acknowledge everythin’ and even if it's bad things or mistakes that you can only blame yourself for, so be it. The only way to repent I guess, is to not make those mistakes again.”

“You speak truth and wisdom. May God keep you by my side for as long as we want.”

“Amen, baby.”

“Thank you for… Well… Half-forcing me to do this. I realise that I should have done it long ago.”

“How d’you feel?” Mundy asked.

“Better, lighter in a way.” Lucien wiped a silent tear.

“Hey, you sure you good?”

“Oui, it is not tears of sadness. It is… The intensity of all this. Finding myself in the Ritz again, but this time, not on duty, not for business, just for our enjoyment, the breakfasts, lunches and dinners here now taste so much more flavourful, I never realised that their food was exquisite. I knew it but I never felt it as much as I have in these past few days. And the outings with you, seeing the sights, guiding you through Paris, telling you her story. It is better than a dream come true.”

Mundy smiled compassionately.

“Lu’?”

“Oui.”

“Happy first anniversary.”

“Oh…” The Frenchman dived head first into his lover’s chest and let the tears run down his face.

“It’s ok, Lu’, I’m here.”

“This is why you wanted to take me to Paris?” Lucien pulled himself out of his lover's embrace.

“Yeah, for our anniversary.”

“Je t’aime, Mundy.”

[I love you, Mundy.]

Lucien took his handkerchief out and wiped his face.

“Je t’aime aussi, mon Lucien.”

[I love you too, my Lucien.]

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics · 7 years ago

Text

Better Man - Request

Requested by anon: Hi could you maybe do dean x reader based on the song better man from little big town, if you know the song.

Pairing: Dean x Reader.

Word count: 2.089

Warnings: Angsty-ish, un-beta’d (idk how to spell that...)

A/N: It’s been a LOOOOONG time since the last time I watched Supernatural (like a almost a year) so I’m rusty. Also, I used a similar format to my fic Beneath the Surface (Sherlock). This is quite abrupt, but that’s just how I see these things so... Yeah.

Now, still going on with the Abusive Relationship issues: Physical violence isn’t the only kind of violence, even using degrading words, or harmful comments is a type of violence. Be brave, run from them.

Speak up, be loud and make yourself heard. You are not alone.

Enjoy!

To Dean, the lonely bunker felt like paradise after being stuck in the middle of nowhere during the hottest day of the year. His precious car had overheated, and no matter how much he tried to fix it quickly, he still got sunburnt. He couldn’t ask for help, his phone had died and Sam was out of town.

Then, he went to the store, which had been his destiny from the beginning, only to find that beer was sold out. He tried in five other stores, only to find the same result and, when he left the fifth store, he found his Impala covered in eggs and remains from water balloons, which only made the mess bigger.

By the time he got to the bunker, he was done with life.

He was about to open the door when bird poop fell from the nearest tree. Dean was so mad by then that he didn’t hesitate in shooting the guilty pigeon, which fell over his car, adding feathers and blood to the already scrambled windshield.

The poor man wasn’t even impressed, it clearly wasn’t his day.

He got inside the bunker, and walked straight to the laundry room to leave his shirt on the washer. The heat was such that the rest of his clothes were covered in sweat, and thus he decided to wash his whole outfit.

Sam wasn't’t there, so it didn’t matter if he was naked or not. So, he walked to the kitchen, praying that there would be at least one can of beer - but there were only three bottles of a green water Sam enjoyed drinking.

“For fuck’s sake!” Dean roared and punched the fridge, knowing Sam would be extra angry when he saw the damage his brother was causing to the appliance.

Dean took an ice cube, as a desperate attempt to lower down his temperature, and then walked to his room. He started to charge his phone and then checked the others to see if he had any message.

One of them did.

Letting the ice drop on his bed sheets - something he would regret later that night - he played the message. His hopes were high, that phone was old and only certain people had the number to it.

“Hey dude, it’s Sam,” his younger brother spoke, “I forgot to tell you, I went to the post office before leaving town. There’s something you may wanna read, I left it under your bed, it’s a cardbox. Take it easy when you read it, we don’t have enough money to buy another fridge.”

“Is that your brother?” A female voice spoke from the distance. Dean smirked, thinking the worst.

“Yes,” Sam answered, “Anyway, I’ll be back soon. Have a nice birthday, Jerk.”

“Bitch…” Dean whispered and left the phone aside.

He knelt next to the bed and dragged out a tiny card box. It only had a sticker with the address to which it would be sent, and nothing else. No names, no details, no nothing.

Dean shook it softly, but could only hear inanimate, innocent object being shaken. He then placed it on the floor and opened it carefully, in case it was something dangerous.

The first thing he saw was a picture of him giving a girl a piggyback ride. He must’ve been on his twenties, and he was glowing; his hair was shorter and lighter, his skin was perfect without wrinkles or sun-stains, and his smile was huge.

He recognized the girl from the picture. She was the only one, his one and only love, but she was also the one to rip his heart apart. Nothing had been more painful than her departure, and it still hurt him.

“Yeah, happy birthday to me.”

He kicked the box under the bed and walked to the shower. He was trying to wash of her memory, but it felt impossible. She was still out there, and she had kept that picture for almost twenty years…

Dean remained in the shower until he ran out of hot water which, until then, had seemed to be something impossible to achieve.

He left the shower and walked back to his bed. The ice from before had melted completely, leaving a big puddle in the middle of the bed. Dean ignored it and took his phone; he had thirteen missed phone calls from Castiel and only one voice mail.

“Dean,” the angel said, “I tried to visit you but you were washing. Happy anniversary on Earth…”

“Try again,” Crowley spoke, mocking Castiel.

“Happy anniversary of birth,” Castiel repeated, “Let’s get wasted, pal.”

“That’ll do,” The demon said and then Dean could hear the two of them fighting over the phone. “Happy birthday, squirrel,” And then complete silence.

He tried to drag his mind out of his loneliness, playing music out loud, eating everything on the refrigerator, and, why not, destroying a whole room on his own. But nothing could take his mind away from the real issue.

Dean gave up.

He dragged his feet all the way back to his bedroom and took out the box once again. He held the picture to his eye level and, because of the lamp on his room, he noticed there was something scribbled behind it.

In red ink was an inscription that read: “Summer with the love of my life” next to a drawn heart. He recognized her hand-writing.

“Yeah, right,” Dean muttered to himself and put the picture away.

There were other objects, like the ticket from a contest they never won, or the deflated balloon that Dean had gifted her on their first date. There were a couple folded napkins that had doodles on them in two different inks - something they would do when they waiters took too long - and some other pictures of the two together. Dean remembered each day perfectly, they felt like yesterday to him.

He was starting to get sensible, in a good way, thinking that maybe she remembered him and missed him as much as he did, imagining that was her way of asking him to get back to her, but his heart broke again.

There was a ring inside the box, under all of the pictures and tiny objects, an engagement ring.

Dean had gifted her that ring the same day she left, promising her to become a better man and a life full of love, adventures and dreams. He never knew why she left after that, but by the time he woke up, she was gone.

He held the ring once again, remembering how much time it took him to pick out the right ring for her and his nerves when asking her to marry him. He remembered the strange look on her face, and how numb her voice was when she said yes.

There was a white envelope at the very bottom of the cardbox. His name was written there with a more mature handwriting; a handwriting that, no matter how mature, was still hers.

He kept the ring next to him and took the letter out. The letter inside had a yellowish sheet of paper, and her old handwriting. It was short and Dean could see dry tears over the paper. It smelled like her perfume mixed with dust. She had kept that letter for a long time.

That’s when Dean checked the date: January 24th, 2003.

The memories came back to him like a tsunami wave. That was his 25th birthday, but also the day he asked her to marry him.

Dean had to take a few minutes to calm himself before reading the letter.

“My beautiful lover, Dean:

I hope you don’t hate me for what I am about to do, it really is the only way out for me.

It’s 4 am, and I’m in front of a mirror, convincing myself that this is for the better. I can see your reflection behind me, you passed out from being so drunk and tired… You were celebrating but not me.

I know I said I would marry you, but I can’t. I know now that I am better off on my own, than having a man who doesn’t know what he has. Because, truth is, you don’t know what you have.

I love you, most ardently, but I can’t unsee the damage you did to me. Trust me, it’s been hard to try and forget when it was magic, but I believe I’m finally achieving it.”

Dean then noticed there was a whiter sheet behind that first one. It was more recent, and it smelled of a different perfume and didn’t have as many tears as the other one. This one was longer.

“January 24th, 2018.

Dean,

I came across this box as I cleaned my attic. I remembered I didn’t ever explained to you why I left, and that’s because I wasn’t brave enough to leave that letter you probably just read. I am brave now, and I would understand if you decide not to read this ever… or if you changed your post address. I have to say this, so I can finally close this cycle.

I had to do it, Dean. You kept treating me like I was less than nothing, you always said that the only worthy thing of me was my beauty, but what would happen when I was no longer beautiful? And what about those times you called me a coward? I would think I was being brave by staying with you, supporting you in spite of your abuse, but now I know that I wasn’t being brave. No, now I know the bravest thing I ever did was run.

I miss you, I really do. I confess that, sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again. I can feel your weight next to me, and smell the liquor and the leather that always made you who you are. I can still feel you breathing next to me, and I can almost see your face against the pillow.

I know I’m better off without you, better all alone than needing a man who changed his mind at any given minute. You were so full of yourself, and I had to stand it because I was your partner, and I thought that was how a good ride-or-die girlfriend worked.

Every choice, every plan, every move we made was always on your terms. You took away my freedom to choose. And I was there, hanging on every single careless word you’d say, hoping it would turn sweet again like they used to be in the beginning… But they never did.

I can hear your jealousy once again… Worst thing was you never expressed it against whoever was making you jealous. No, it was always against me. You would always talk me down, confident that I would always be around no matter what.

I did try to fix it, to get you back to who you used to be, but you always pushed me away. I wasn’t one of your loaded guns, Dean, and I certainly wasn’t trying to harm you. I guess you never thought I’d run.

You may be wondering why I held onto all of these memories. Well, I always felt the need to have you close somehow, to have proof that we ever existed, I had to hold onto this because it was all I had. I even doubted that I did the right thing by running away, but now I know why I had to say goodbye, and I’m finally free.

I gave you everything I had, I gave you my best. You can’t deny that, you really can’t. And honestly, I still wonder what we would’ve become if you were a better man.

We might still be in love, you would’ve been the one… I would’ve married you. But you had to be a better man, and you’re not.

Sadly for you, I still know you. I only wish you were a better man, but that is it.

I just miss you, and that is it.

I hope you have a good birthday, and I hope I didn’t ruin it with this letter. My gift to you is the goodbye I never gave you, the goodbye you deserved...

Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean breathed out loudly as a tear slipped down his face. That was it, the one thing he wanted ever since she ran away, and he didn’t feel complete yet.

And so he realised he would never feel complete ever again, not without her.

~ Unnecessary Extended Ending ~ Word Count: 467

It took him a lot of time to finally locate her, but when he did he didn’t hesitate in driving straight to her instead of searching more about her life.

The house was beautiful, with a white picket fence and bushes with flowers. The windows had fancy-looking curtains and the air smelled of home-made food.

Dean could see her from the outside. She looked gorgeous, in spite of the tiny wrinkles around her eyes and her messy hair - which was tied in a bun. She had a red apron over the beige sweater, and was right by the stove, stirring whatever was on the pan.

He approached the door and knocked. (Y/N) sighed and opened, thinking it was someone else.

The look on her face when she saw him could not be described with words.

Dean smiled at her tenderly, and before she could ask why he had suddenly appeared, Dean snapped his lips against hers. She slapped him, pushing him away as fast as possible.

There he realised, the look on her face was nothing else but utter regret for having sent that letter.

“Mommy, what’s going on?” A tiny voice broke the silence. (Y/N) turned around and Dean caught a glimpse of a tiny kid, that looked nothing like him, running towards her.

“Nothing, it’s just a seller. Go back to daddy,” (Y/N) calmed the kid with a sweet voice and then turned back to him again, giving a step out so she could close the door behind her.

“That’s your…?” Dean whispered and she nodded. “But the letter… And the pictures… You kept all those things for twenty years and…”

“I wrote the last letter ten years ago, when I met my husband… I didn’t send it because I figured you’d come back, so I left it in the attic and forgot about it,” She explained.

“But you did send it this time,” Dean insisted.

“I was clearing up some space for a new room,” She muttered, looking down to her belly. “I realised how… Unfair it had been to leave without saying goodbye and I sent it, but I guess it was a mistake.”

“I’m a better man now, (Y/N), give me another chance,” Dean sniffed, holding back the tears.

“I’m sorry, I moved on and you should too.”

Dean left, without saying anything else. He only took one last glimpse of her, regretting everything he had done for he knew that she could be his, that the life she lived could’ve been theirs.

The roar of the Impala was the last thing she heard of him. His future was uncertain, as always, and so she decided to consider him dead ever since. After all, he didn’t even know if he’d survive the night, and that was his life.

Masterlist.

Schedule.

To-Do List.

Requests.

Forever Tags: @dekahg @myfriendmagislit @thecrazyhatwoman @pureawesomeness001 @bingewatchingmylifegoby @cutie1365

SPN Tags: @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @roseyhxnt @thisisjessicatalking @hotwinchester @pizzarollpatrol @colorfuluniversewhispers @destiel5100 @bones-can-only-fly @frayedphan @shadyladyperfection @baconlover001

Dean Tags: @coffeebreakandwinchesters @procrastinating-my-life-away @rdy4thevoid @baconlover001 @wonderwinchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday

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niemernuet · 4 years ago

Text

The Victor and the Runner-Up

Summary: Alexis beat Marco in the 2021 men's overall racing. Luckily, Marco is a good sport.

Warning: explicit

Not to sound condescending but it was really for the best that he was the one who had won, Alexis mused. The crystal globe felt nice and heavy in his hand. He rocked it gently, weighed it back and forth then threw a glance towards the few forlorn photographers in the distance. Ah merde, why not? He lifted the trophy and planted a kiss on the cool surface. It would make for a nice picture, though he did feel stupid the moment he put his lips on the glass.

Whatever.

The biggest advantage, he continued his inner monologue, of having spent the majority of his career in the shadow of a legend (curse you, Marcel!), was that it had given him an almost Buddhist-monk-like serenity and a quiet sense of humour. Johan called it cynicism but Alexis was sure it was only his senility speaking.

So his family was not allowed here to celebrate his biggest success and on his birthday to boot? So the arena looked as if a deadly virus had ravaged the population in the last year and left the Alpine Ski World Cup like the last stand in a zombie film? So there would be no parties in the town, no masses who waited for him anywhere? So what? Alexis once spent eight years running like Wile E. Coyote behind the Roger Federer of his sport. There was nothing that could rustle him anymore. And it was exactly the reason why he had had to win and not Marco.

The photographers were still merrily clicking away on their gadgets and Alexis threw a glance to his right. Even with a mask and a hat hiding most of his face it was clear as day that Marco was not smiling, at least not really. Alexis knew Marco's real smile pretty well after all, the little wrinkles around his eyes and the golden radiance he emitted, the spring in his step and the candour in his shoulders that came along with it, as if he was just waiting for someone to come into hugging-distance. He was generous with that smile of his and nothing in the past season, not FIS safety protocols, not mile-long cotton swabs up his nose, not empty stands and last minute cancellations had been able to destroy it. Sometimes he had been the only one to smile and had looked like a rainbow in an otherwise dull world and Alexis probably should stop staring at him. He turned his head back to the front and lifted the globe once again though the photographers were beginning to slow down. Next to them, still unperturbedly clapping along with the rest of the team, Clément glared at Marco. Alexis' smile grew a little. He was so resentful, especially concerning perceived slights against his colleagues, and he had not forgiven Marco for his interview right after the second course of the giant slalom yesterday.

"The course was the same for everyone, dipshit", he had growled. "It wasn't the snow, it was you."

Alexis had shoved his elbow into his ribs. But not too hard. "Be nice! It's still raw for him."

"So what? I came in second too but you don't hear me crying to the press about Schwarz."

"He wasn't crying about me."

"He might as well have. Childish git."

Alexis really did not mind Marco's words, after all he knew too well what it felt like to come in second. It made you want to lash out to anything that crossed your path, and unfortunately in the arena that anything was reporters and cameras.

No, Marco did not deserve to win under the present circumstances, his entire being too loud and flashy for this subdued ceremony. He deserved to win in a normal world, with thousands of people shouting his name and waving banners with his face, with a parade through the village and music and parties all night long. This here, the barren place and the scrawny applause, this was for Alexis.

He did not mind.

_______

Alexis pitied the hotel keeper who was nervously stalking up and down outside the big hall, probably expecting the police any minute. The tables had been arranged according to the rules, spread far apart and with only four people per table and stands of plexiglas between them. The guests should have dispersed after dinner, preferably into their beds or at least into groups not larger than five people. But tonight the French team ignored all rules and stayed until long after dessert, chattering in one large group and toasting with the vinegar they produced in Switzerland and sold as wine because tonight they had a victory and a birthday to celebrate and Jean-Baptiste to bid farewell to.

Victor filled Alexis' glass again before he could even feign protest. Alexis raised the glass with a wink and took another sip.

They really should have brought their own wine.

He excused himself after a while, head swimming from the alcohol and the warmth of the hall, and fled outside. The village lay silent and abandoned in the cold night. Through the trees, Alexis saw the black mass that was the lake. It seemed as if the French were all alone in Lenzerheide. Or almost alone. One last person stumbled along the lake, their gait at once determined and yet unstable. Probably drunk. Suddenly the person stepped to the side and crossed the road, barely missing the only car that had come along in a long time. Definitely drunk.

Alexis' heart jumped in his chest. "Hey, idiot, watch where you're going!", he shouted from the patio. The drunk stopped, looked to the patio, then sped up. As he crossed the street light Alexis finally recognized the person and his heart jumped again. He ran over the terrace and through the small park and caught up with Marco just as he turned into the driveway.

"There you are", he announced.

"What are you doing here?", Alexis hissed and pulled Marco away until they were behind the wall that bordered the park of the hotel.

Marco looked at him as if he had asked the dumbest question in the world. "I've come to see you."

"And why?"

Marco sighed. "To apologise. See, yesterday I was in a bad place, and I said some things to a reporter that were not…mature. That alone gave me a guilty conscience but then today Justin confessed that Clément had cornered him and had forced him to translate what I had said and then I knew it would get to you and I really don't want you to go like that because I didn't mean it, the course was fine, I was just angry at myself for failing. You were the best this season, fair and square, and I just wanted to tell you this one more time and also I haven't wished you a happy birthday yet and I really wanted…"

Alexis smiled and held his hands up and Marco stopped rambling. "It's okay, really. I've been second too. I know how it feels."

Marco nodded serenely. "Good. Also: Happy birthday! I'm sorry we can't have a party. You deserved better."

Alexis waved him off. "It's fine, I don't mind. It's…" An unsettling thought crept into his head and he broke off. Marco stared at him curiously, head tilted like a puppy, golden eyes beaming in the street light. He was well and truly sloshed.

"Aren't you guys in the hotel right by the slope?", Alexis asked.

Marco nodded.

"And isn't that a couple of kilometres away?"

"Five point two according to google", Marco answered and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his sweater.

"And you walked here all alone?", Alexis shouted and Marco dropped the phone.

Alexis grabbed Marcos cheeks and felt his ice cold skin because he was a bit tipsy too and it felt somehow reasonable. "That's how people die, moron", Alexis scolded.

Marco laughed, and a few strands of his blond hair tickled over Alexis' hands. "Of course I walked. I'm way too drunk to drive."

Alexis bit his lips but Marco could always coax a smile out of him. He dropped his head a little bit, until his chin was resting on Alexis' palms, and laughed at him with little wrinkles around his eyes and golden radiance and oh so tempting lips and honestly, Alexis never stood a chance.

__________

They snuck by the desperate hotel keeper and the not-party in the hall and hurried to Alexis' room. Alexis studied the brochure that was in every hotel room all over the world and looked for the number of the local taxi company but before he even found the right page two cold arms wrapped around him and a cold body clung to him.

"That's not why I brought you here", Alexis lied.

"Of course not", Marco mumbled and softly bit Alexis' neck.

Shivers ran down Alexis' spine. "I'm serious. I'm calling you a taxi and then it's off to bed with you."

Slowly Marco forced Alexis around and kissed him towards the bed. At least his lips were warm again. Alexis' breath hitched when he felt something tug at his belt and trousers.

"Don't let me disturb you", Marco said when their lips parted again and shoved Alexis on the bed, pulling his trousers down to his knees with the same movement. Breathlessly laughing Alexis fell on his back and stared intently at the ceiling. The brochure was crumpled in his fist.

"As I said already outside", Marco explained between kisses and nibbles along Alexis' stomach, "happy 30th birthday! And congratulations on your victory. You deserve it."

Alexis focused on his breathing, tried to stay steady but his pants suddenly felt too tight.

"I'm sorry there's no real party", Marco continued and his lips and hands wandered down Alexis' thighs and they were not cold anymore, no, they were hot, scorching even and Alexis pressed his lips together hard. "But on the upside, there's more time for me to be a good runner-up." Marco's lips left Alexis' skin and he looked at him quizzically. "I am a good runner-up, right? I wouldn't know, it's my first time."

Alexis laughed uproariously and grabbed a handful of Marco's soft hair with his free hand. "Bien sûr, tu es un petit ange chaste et innocent."

Without breaking his smile or looking away from him, Marco pulled at Alexis' pants and exposed his hard cock. "I know, and I keep telling everyone but nobody ever believes me." He shrugged, as if he could not comprehend why nobody would trust his word, then he bent down and took Alexis' entire length in his mouth. Alexis' head fell back onto the bed and he ripped a few pages out of the brochure when he buried his hands in the pillow above.

"Marco, dieu…merde", he moaned softly and lost himself completely in the heat and the soft tongue that danced around his dick. First drops leaked out of Alexis and with overpowering lust he felt how Marco sucked it all out of him and swallowed. He worked relentlessly, determinedly, like he did on skis, like he always did, leaving Alexis no time to catch his breath.

"Fuck…merde", Alexis stammered. "Marco…putain…"

Appalled Marco let go of Alexis' cock and looked at him. "What are you calling me?" His lips had turned a burning shade of red and made him look like a literal angel.

Alexis laughed again, his fingers caressing Marco's hair without pause. His dick was throbbing and Marco stroked languidly along the shaft.

"My coaches want me to start participating in slalom races", Marco explained without taking his eyes off Alexis' dick. Pensively he rubbed the wetness that flowed out of Alexis. "So I can beat you next year." He looked up to Alexis and grinned. "Though I don't know why I just thought of that."

"A mystery", Alexis gasped and moaned shamelessly as Marco's lips started exploring his cock again. Familiar heat was pooling in his groin and he knew that he was close. His hips bucked upwards but Marco's strong hands kept them in place while his mouth sucked without mercy.

"Fuck, Marco…dieu!", Alexis groaned and suddenly it was too much and he lost all control. Everything turned a blinding white and Alexis came. Marco leant forward and swallowed greedily everything that shot out of Alexis until he could give no more.

When the world finally stopped spinning and Alexis could move again he found Marco standing in front of him, smiling again like the angel he was most certainly not. Alexis did not have to ask or guess, it was glaringly obvious. Slowly he sat up and pulled Marco closer by the hooks of his trousers until he could burry himself in Marco's crotch. Hungrily he bit along the stiffness under the trousers until Marco's gasps turned to moans.

"Alexis…", Marco panted, hands laid around Alexis' head.

Patiently Alexis opened Marco's trousers and shoved his damp pants down, revealing his erection. Marco's groans crumbled to a whimper as Alexis started sucking him off and his thighs trembled. It did not take much, too far was Marco gone, and his knees folded as he came in Alexis. Alexis wrapped his arms around him and held him steady until it was over. Slowly, Marco sank down on Alexis' lap and kissed the salt off Alexis' lips.

"I can't wait to race you again next season", Alexis whispered when they finally parted and caressed the lines and dimples of Marco's smile.

"Next time I won't be as nice", Marco warned.

Alexis laughed. "Try me!"

Marco grinned, planted one last kiss on Alexis' lips and stood up. Quickly he pulled his clothes together again then he inspected his phone. The screen had cracked on the frozen ground and Marco sighed.

"Could you order this taxi for me now, please? I have to be in Engelberg in…" he looked over to the television and read the time, "eight hours. I'm supposed to inaugurate a new gondola with the abbot of the local monastery."

Alexis, who had been scrolling through his own phone, let it sink and stared at Marco. For a few seconds nobody said anything, then Alexis burst out laughing.

#skiing #alpine skiing #marco odermatt #alexis pinturault #i have soooo much to do irl #but i will always abandon my commitments to lose myself in plot bunnies #sport rpf #mine

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bienmoreau · 7 years ago

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so here’s a quick belated (and completely un-beta-ed) birthday thing for my sunshine // with a bunch of our hc thrown in @wesawbears & @faintlyglow

There are a number of traditions that have been developed over the years for Trojan birthdays and Jeremy Knox’s is no different, he is in fact instrumental in their existence.

Due to its timing he is very rarely able to make it home to his family for the actual day but the team make sure to fill in and make their sunshine leader feel the love.

The first year Alvarez baked him the cake it did not go well, they were both still very much baby freshmen but in hindsight it really was what cemented their life long friendship.

Jeremy had not been looking forward to getting up on what he expected to be just another day with the slight tarnish of homesickness ever more acutely felt due to the fact that it would be the first birthday where he didn’t wake up to his mothers breakfast and a table full of happy siblings. The numerous voicemail messages and texts awaiting him from them all unfortunately only making him feel worse as he prepped his morning coffee.

What he hadn’t expected was to be greeted by the one and only Sara Alvarez crashing through his door. She was already in full swing with a raucous rendition of Cumpleaños Feliz! as she swung the huge cake in her hands onto his little dorm table. It was, to put it nicely, a work of modern art, he wasn’t sure what shape it had originally been but it hardly mattered, as soon as the initial shock dissipated the overwhelming realisation of what she had done washed over him. There was nothing in the world that could have stopped his tears as he dove at her wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing the breath out of her as she reached the end of the song.

Without them even talking about it more than Jeremy telling her in passing how big a deal birthdays were in his family she had taken it upon herself to shower him in love the whole day even getting a large amount of their fellow freshmen on the team involved in the celebrations after practice. Her cake fed them both for the following two days, and while it wasn’t a scratch on his mothers cooking Jeremy would swear on oath that it was the best thing he had eaten since starting at USC.

Of course he repaid Alvarez twice over when her birthday came around.

Their second year was much the same, just with a little more preparation on both sides and Alvarez successfully dragging all the new freshmen in to the party they put together for it. Jeremy didn’t mind in the slightest that it was only maybe 45% about throwing him a big party and more about Sara’s ginormous puppy crush on the teams new goalie. And he really couldn’t mind when the two of them called him over with huge proud smiles and brought out possibly the most elaborately decorated sun shaped cake he could ever imagine.

The skype call he had with his family that evening was loud and busy and perfectly wonderfully normal and he went to bed grinning wide and looking forward to the year ahead of them all.

Being Captain changed a lot of things for Jeremy, but not the important things, not his friendships or the way he felt increasingly like USC was his home away from home and the team his second family. The new intake of freshmen were instantly brought into the fold by their upperclassmen and they were introduced to the Trojan birthday mentality, to Jeremy’s surprise and no small amount of delight the seniors took it all the more seriously now that he had proved himself to them all.

He even overheard a couple of them explaining to the newbies after practice on the 8th “We gotta show the cap a good time so he won’t work us too hard!”

October 10th of Jeremy’s third year saw the biggest of the team birthday parties since he had started. They all ended up on the beach, music loud, food plentiful, alcohol for those that wanted it and a sun-shaped cake twice the size as the year before.

It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t miss his family, didn’t miss the way his birthdays had always been growing up, but this; this gathering of his friends, this team-wide celebration was really, if he was being honest, just as good in so many ways.

The celebration traditions only expanded from there. With Laila the duo had become a very strong and influential trio, able to make nearly anything happen. Birthdays on practice days had one set of traditions, birthdays on weekends or rest days another, and those that took place during their holidays had either early or belated celebrations with the team when they best fit the scheduled. Thankfully Alvarez and Laila took charge of this particular part of team organisation so that Jeremy could throw himself into proving that he really did deserve the faith his team had in him and that he could measure up as an even better captain for them for another year.

His birthday couldn’t come soon enough that year. everyone wanted a reason to blow off any residual party energy from the summer before Jeremy and Coach Rheman started their practice in earnest.

Over the last two years the Trojans Exy team parties had been gaining fame among the rest of the student body. Not that this was a problem in the slightest, the beach stretch they tended for was plenty large and while the team may be technically the ‘hosts’ nobody looked to them to manage the event. People came and went and the team members were able to exist at the heart of it for as long as they liked, or remove themselves back to the designated exy dorms.

It suited Jeremy just fine, it was just the kind of energy he had come to love, to thrive in.

Laila’s perfected cake recipe and Alvarez’s increasingly ridiculous birthday gifts were the cornerstones that held the whole day together perfectly for him.

Jean- Jean was a wildcard going into Jeremy final year, he was still all sharp edges, raw and violent and so very very angry in October, everything still too new and strange and hard to comprehend let alone accept for him. but that wasn’t going to stop the team, wasn’t going to stop Alvarez from ‘taking care of her boy’ as she had termed it on that first birthday together years before.

It just meant that a few concessions had to be made.

Jeremy was already more stressed out and tired than he normally was so early in the year, still feeling around the edges of what having Jean with them meant trying not to cut himself on all the potential problems.

When Al found him slumped over his desk after classes, head in his hands and seldom-used glasses pushed up into his hair she knew the normal party just wasn’t going to cut it this year. The team would understand, and nothing was stopping them from going out to the beach they just might be minus 1 birthday boy. Jeremy just needed his partners in crime tonight.

Jeremy made no sign of recognition at Alvarez’s entrance into his room but after a pause he asked quietly “When do we need to leave fr the beach? What are we going to do about Jean? - shit where even is he? Sara, what am i going to do?”

He didn’t need to clarify that he was talking in a the longer run, asking about what he should do as captain, as potential, hopeful friend to Jean, if the other man continued to fight them they way he was. It wasn’t what he needed to be worrying over on the evening of his 23rd birthday. But here he was, ever the studious caring captain. Perhaps to a fault Sara worried sometimes.

“We have sugar in our room, and a very big cake that I’m not letting anyone else have some of till you’ve made yourself sick of cake from it.”

His head came up slow, “..sugar? sugar sounds good.”

Jeremy followed her down the two doors to her and Laila’s room without another word, he knew he must be a sorry sight but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that when he stepped past her into the little sitting room area he was confronted by the scene of Jean Moreau sitting cross-legged on the floor with a sketch book out on their coffee table and Laila quietly talking to him about something or other. Neither of them looked up until he reached the back of the sofa but when they did Laila beamed at him leaping to her feet on the sofa cushions and leaning over it to wrap him in a hug so she could wish him a happy birthday. Jean watched the exchange indifferently before meeting Jeremy’s eyes over Laila’s shoulder and inclining his head in the smallest nod. Jeremy was quite frankly stunned.

“Is it time for cake!?” Laila asked excitedly, “we worked really hard on the decorations thing year! Jean even helped!”

Talking about being stunned, Jeremy wasn’t sure he could have possibly hard that right, but Laila was smiling at Jean encouragingly and Al was grinning from where she stood by the kitchenette.

“We thought since the beach party probably isn’t really Jeans scene just yet and you’re practically dead on your feet today we could just skip the big team affair and gorge ourselves on my beautiful girlfriends cake and chill out, sound okay Jere?”

It was like his first year all over again, like Sara had read his mind without even seeing him all day and was doing everything he didn’t know he needed to make it through the day. realising his voice would probably crack if he tried to speak just then Jeremy nodded numbly, managing to smile at Al before moving around the sofa and slumping heavily onto it.

Laila dropped back down next to him giving him another tight squeeze then turning back to Jean. Jeremy tried to follow their conversation, something about art theory or history or someone who did something revolutionary, he really wasn’t following it well at all. What he was doing was watching Jean nod along and answer softly or gesture slightly as he made a comment and every so often the slightest of smiles would grace his face and he would look down at his work or glance up and meet Laila’s eyes. It was the most amazing thing Jeremy thought he had seen all year.

When Al broke the quite by emerging around the breakfast island singing a much calmer rendition of Cumpleaños Feliz then normal and placed a tray down in the space on the coffee table Jeremy was bowled over yet again by the cake upon it. it was the same clip art sun shape as it had been for the last three years but instead of Laila’s usual delicate swirls and paisley icing patterns the center of the cake was adorned with a cluster of neatly iced sunflowers each one looking almost 3D with their detail and layering. Jeremy breath caught as he took it in, his eyes lifting to Laila’s face, the awe clear in his expression but she simply ginned and nodded to Jean in explanation.

Jeremy’s eyes widened and switched to focusing on Jean, his mouth falling open a little unable to form a response to this information. The other man met his gaze steadily for a moment before fixing on the cake between them.

“I just noticed how much you like them. That bunch on your desk- from your family,”

“Jean” Jeremy breathed “its amazing, thank you.”

It wasn’t like everything suddenly stopped being hard work, Jean was still a challenge on court and a minefield of sharp edges off, but as unexpected gifts go seeing the first real signs of progress from Jean was a hell of a good one, and far better than Jeremy could have asked for.

#jeremy knox #jean moreau #alvarez #laila dermott #lailalvarez #the sunshine trio #jerejean #exy: the trojans #jeremy knox fic #mine #tfc fanfic #my writing #signs of progress

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