#no beta and i wrote this on a train so idk what shape it's in

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her. 

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked. 

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad. 

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on. 

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding. 

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

“Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him. 

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

[si1verghosts]

Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

[hey-michael-young-history]

About Chiyoko

Anonymous: Hey again, I saw you reblogged a post about curious anonymous people, so I'll take this opportunity to clear one more question, hehe. About Chiyoko, what was her childhood like? Did her parents accept her right away or did they want her to be an Alpha? That question keeps hitting my head, lol. By the way, I really loved the story of this character, she might as well appear in the next game, right? 

Anon, please. Without questions, I might actually have to try to sleep.

Join me under the cut.

She was born in a small village where her mother was taken in when she came seeking sanctuary while pregnant. Her parents were Betas. Her dad left them, and her mom was a simple woman who didn’t fully understand what having an Omega child entailed. Betas are kind of like, “I don’t see why secondary sexes are such a big deal” because it isn’t… to them. Secretly, she would have preferred a Beta child. Her mom loved her, but she was young, unprepared for single parenthood, and very busy working to provide. Fortunately, her village was very much “it takes a village,” so Chiyoko’s childhood was uneventful.

She was very much a girly girl and nurturing Omega. She didn’t dream much beyond wanting to find an Alpha who would care for her.

She found that in her wife Chiaki, a warrior class Alpha. All children of this village had to learn basic survival skills and self-defense. Older children spread rumors that it was because there was a clan lurking in the shadows, targeting children to torture and send back as brainwashed monsters.

Anyway, they were teenagers and became best friends. When they both finally presented, they were crushing on each other, but Chiaki was pulled quickly for her pathway as an warrior. Before she was taken to a secret training camp, Chiyoko confessed to her, and being a hormonal teenager, Chiaki proposed. Chiyoko promised to give her an answer when she returned.

Chiyoko wrote letters to Chiaki, although she couldn’t send them. She kept them in a box to present. In the meantime, she learned domestic work. She was a beautiful girl, and her love for Chiaki caused her to freely produce a joyous scent that her elders scolded her for. She didn’t care. She turned down proposals from other people who warned her that she was going to wait for Chiaki, just to get abandoned and be too old to find a suitable partner.

Chiyoko didn’t care. She wanted to honor Chiaki’s proposal.

Chiaki returned ten years later, in the best shape of her life. The ladies reunited, Chiyoko presented her letters, and it turns out Chiaki had the same idea! They laughed at how seriously they took Chiaki’s proposal back then and promptly got married and had a nice dinner.

It was rough at first because they were young and were infatuated with each other. But they were friends first and in a matter of years, they settled into happy domestic life. They had six children and eventually Chiaki worried that she would not be able to protect her family while she was out on missions for the village.

Chiyoko took it upon herself to look for a new place and discovered that the Shirai Ryu was being rebuilt and seeking people. The rumor was that the grandmaster was a reformed wraith.

They were accepted and things were wonderful. But in the safety of the Shirai Ryu and her children growing, Chiyoko decided to search for something to define herself outside of being a wife and mother. She loved being able to relieve her family’s injuries and heal them when they were ill so she studied under the healers of the Shirai Ryu, then decided to seek out a shaman, to learn even further.

She was nervous about leaving her family for so long but they all encouraged her to follow her dreams and do something for herself.

So, she set out.

And idk if you’ve read the MKX comics but around this time, the kamidogu that Raiden asked Hanzo to guard started… talking. I would post what happened but I honestly try not to look at that section >_>

The blood demon got ahold of Fox, one of the students, and he slaughtered the entire Shirai Ryu, save Takeda and Hanzo. It was a mess.

She returned to find her entire family, her community DEAD. And if she hadn’t found Takeda, and Hanzo, she would have withered away right then and there. Hanzo, who was still recovering from losing his family, and Takeda, who’s mother was murdered, helped her. She wanted to use her new medical skills to help rebuild the Shirai Ryu. This motivation helped her power through the abandonment scars and her mating gland hardened for a few years. Eventually, it healed, though she never had another relationship or any more children, to honor the memories of those she lost.

She single handedly trained just about all of her staff and built a hospital that treated all Shirai Ryu, not just the ninjas.

She sees all of her patients as family and Hanzo is her dearest friend. She never interacted with Takeda in the series but he values her greatly and always visits her. She started replacing the sweets that Hanzo would take from him for Kuai Liang and Bi-Han.

She empathized greatly with Kuai Liang because her youngest son was an Omega. Male Omegas are rare, so she felt blessed to have him, even though she knew that life would be a little more challenging. She sees Kuai Liang as an Omega boy without his Omega mother, just as she is an Omega mother without her Omega boy.

December 29th, 2021 7:08am

[demi-drawing]

popsicles - diodeshipping

word count: 3615

unfortunately i can’t add a link for ao3 because tumblr is dumb and this won’t show up in searches if i do so my ao3 is @demipancake!! it’s on there

i wrote the last two sections of this past midnight last night so idk if they’re any good but ace seemed to think they were so Here We Are i guess

anyways ash and clemont? gay

thanks to @aro-ace-thetic for betaing this for me!!

Clemont sighs as he puts the last cardboard box down in the future living room of his new apartment. He glances around and out the window, gazing at the city view for a few seconds. Bonnie left ten minutes ago to catch up with a friend who lives in the city, and of course she left the heaviest boxes for him to carry. Something about getting in shape? Clemont wasn't really listening.

Finding the apartment hadn't been easy - after all, it had to be close to the college, and given how popular just staying in a dorm was, finding one close was tough. Lumiose City isn't the cheapest place for an apartment, either. They were lucky to find one as close and inexpensive as they did - and even then, it's a twenty minute walk to campus, and wasn't the best quality. Clemont wasn't great at walking - or, running, rather.

Luckily, that's all over now, and all that was left was to unpack.

To… unpack.

He stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by a sea of cardboard. Just moving everything up here was a task and a half - maybe he could just find the sleeping bag he had somewhere in these boxes and order take out.

He's about to do just that when there's a sudden knock at the front door, and he jumps. Clemont picks his way through the maze and opens it.

There's a man standing in the hallway with a bright coloured box tucked under his arm. He has dark, messy hair that doesn't look like it's been brushed in weeks and tan skin, and he's wearing a hat indoors, for some reason. He has tiny lightning bolt marks on both his cheeks, underneath giant chocolate-y eyes which light up when he sees Clemont.

“Hey! You must be the new neighbour, right?” he says, tilting his head to one side in a way that was far too cute for Clemont's heart. “I'm Ash. Ash Ketchum.”

“Cl-Clemont.” The scientist in question desperately wishes his heart would stop beating so loudly - he's sure Ash can hear it.

“Nice to meetcha, Clemont!” Ash grins, showing off pure white teeth. “Can I come in?”

“Well, I, uh… haven't started unpacking yet.”

Ash squints and his nose scrunches up adorably. “Do you have a fridge?”

Clemont blinks. “Uh… yes? Don't all the apartments in this building come with fridges?”

“Well, yeah, but is it working?”

“I think so.”

“Great! Because these popsicles are gonna melt otherwise,” Ash says, holding up the box under his arm so Clemont can read what it is. Sure enough, it's a box of popsicles - three different flavours: pineapple, berry, and… banana.

“Banana flavoured popsicles?” he asks sceptically.

“I like them.”

Fair enough, Clemont thinks, then realises they're still standing out in the hallway and steps aside to let Ash in. He grins and adjusts his hat as he walks in, weaving around the boxes looking for the kitchen.

“So why did you come to my apartment with a box of popsicles, exactly?” Clemont asks, following Ash to the kitchen to find him stuffing the box into the freezer.

“Well, I bought too many popsicles, and I was gonna give them to Shauna, but I've already given her a box this month,” he explains, shutting the freezer with a flourish. “And then I remembered that you were moving in today, so I thought I'd bring them to you!”

“Oh, well, uh… thank… you?” Clemont says, wondering whether he should be grateful for someone dumping their accidental purchase on him.

“You're welcome!” Ash gives a toothy grin, blissfully unaware of Clemont's questioning tone. He claps and rubs his hands together. “So, what box are we gonna start with?”

“What?”

“It's too late to back out of this,” Ash says teasingly, and Clemont can feel his face getting warmer just at the tone. “I'm helping you unpack, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.”

Clemont looks into Ash's eyes and sees he is one hundred percent serious about this, and there really is nothing he can do to stop him.

He sighs. “Okay, well, I guess we should start with… the bed?”

Ash's face lights up, as if he wasn't actually expecting to get this far, and races off to the living room, before poking his head back around the doorframe. “Which box is the bed in?”

Clemont sighs to himself, smiling, and follows.

---

He's been in Lumiose for one and a half months now, and he and Ash have somehow become good friends.

He's gotten over his infatuation for him, too. Really, he has. Yeah, he's cute, but he doesn't have a crush on him or anything.

Seriously.

...Maybe.

In any case, Ash had realised that Clemont had somehow never seen his apartment before. Which is why he was standing outside of it slightly nervously, while loud meowing came from inside.

“Come on, buddy, can't I have one friend over?” drifted Ash's voice through the door. The meowing grew louder, until eventually there was the sound of a door clicking shut, and the mewling was muffled.

The front door swings open to reveal Ash standing there, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, that was my cat.”

Clemont smiles back. “I love cats.”

“He's having a bad day.” Ash glances at the door next to him. Ominous scratching noises come from it, along with the occasional mewl. Ash shakes his head fondly, before gesturing for Clemont to come in.

Ash's apartment is a lot like him, in some ways - there's unorganised clutter everywhere you look, including a few dead houseplants and a Pikachu plush on the coffee table. The couch is red, a few shades lighter than the tone of his cap - or, caps, seeing as Clemont could see at least two strewn about haphazardly in this room alone. There's a few awards for generally doing amazing things for the community (as if he couldn't get any more perfect, Clemont thinks, before hastily wiping that thought from his brain) across the shelves, as well as dog supplies, for some reason.

“Take a seat, make yourself at home!” Ash calls out, heading straight to the kitchen and leaving Clemont alone in the living room. He sits down, and realises there's a photograph lying on the coffee table. It's a picture of Ash and a golden retriever wearing a highlighter yellow vest.

“I got popsicles!” Ash sings, entering back into the living room. Clemont snaps his head up and smiles as he sees Ash holding an already opened popsicle in one hand and a banana one in the other. They're weird, but he's begun to like the taste. Ash hands him his popsicle and plops down on the couch next to him, sucking on his own lolly.

Clemont, struggling to open his, nods to the Pikachu plush. “So, you like Pokémon?”

Ash laughs, accidentally touching his nose with his popsicle and squeaking. “My cat is named Pikachu,” he says sheepishly after he recovers.

“Oh my God, that's adorable.”

“He looks like a Pikachu, I'm telling you!”

“I haven't seen him, I can't say!” Clemont laughs, finally managing to get his banana popsicle open.

“He's very friendly! Just not so trusting of strangers.” Ash gestures to the door, where scratching sounds still emanated. “I can let him out if you like.”

“Oh, that'd be great-” Clemont starts, but Ash is already halfway to the door. He opens it and a golden blur springs out and skids to a halt in front of Clemont. He blinks.

He really does look like a Pikachu.

He's a golden tabby with big brown eyes and stripes zigzagging across his back. He's very fluffy, and his tail almost looks like a feather. He sniffs at Clemont's leg, before jumping up onto the couch to scope him out better. He seems to deem him okay, and rubs his head against Clemont's hand.

“Aw, he likes you!” Ash says, having returned from letting Pikachu out. “I told you he was friendly.”

“I didn't even know you were allowed pets,” Clemont says, stroking Pikachu's back with one hand as he purrs.

“Oh, I pay the extra fee. Pikachu means a lot to me, I don't mind it.”

Pikachu, as if knowing what his owner was talking about, steps forward and leans all the way off the edge of the couch in order to rub his face against Ash's leg. Ash leans down to stroke him, and Clemont feels something in his chest spark at the soft smile he wears on his face.

“You like dogs?” he says after a moment, gesturing to the photo on the table. Ash’s eyes light up.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m a service dog trainer!” He smiles as he picks up the photo. “That’s Kaya, she graduated recently.”

“...Graduated?”

“Yeah, that’s what we call it when a puppy finishes their training.” He smiles, as if remembering something. “One of the other trainers said if she didn’t make it, he’d adopt her himself.”

“I’d adopt her if I had the chance,” Clemont says. Ash laughs, and he feels everything is right with the world.

---

Clemont hasn't exited his apartment in three days, except to go to classes.

He has good reason to though - he has a physics test this week and he doesn't wanna fail. He has enough food to last him a few more days - he has to study or he might not pass, and if he doesn't pass it'll reflect on his overall grade, and then what would he do?

There's a sudden loud knock coming from the front door and Clemont jumps. He glances to his notes on diffraction grating and sighs before getting up to open the door.

As soon as the door opens an inch, Ash is barrelling into the apartment with a box in his hands and determination in his eyes.

“Hey Clemont! I brought friends.”

“What?”

Two girls walk in behind Ash, one of them with short, dirty blonde hair and another with brown in pigtails. He vaguely recognises them and remembers they share one of the bigger apartments above him.

Another girl skips in at the end of the group, and Clemont does a double take. “Bonnie?”

“That’s right!” Bonnie smirks, moving past Clemont to get to the living room. “Ash called me and told me to come over.”

“What? Why? How does he even know you?”

“He’s friends with Max!”

Clemont groans. “Of course he is.”

He follows everyone through to the living room, where they apparently had already made themselves at home. Bonnie already had her feet on the coffee table. Ash comes out of the kitchen without the box, along with five popsicles that Clemont swore weren’t in his freezer before. He hands Clemont, still in shock, a banana one (because of course he does) and gives the others to the girls, keeping one for himself.

“What… is going on?” Clemont asks in a daze, banana popsicle in his hand.

“You haven’t been outside in three days, we’ve come to drag you out,” Ash explains, lifting his pineapple popsicle in Clemont’s direction.

“But… I have a physics test-”

“Doesn’t matter! You’re coming with us. Or at least taking a break.”

Clemont stares at the popsicle in his hand and contemplates kicking them all out and going back to his practice worksheet. Then he sighs and smiles, unwrapping the popsicle and gesturing to the girls he didn’t know. “So… who exactly are you?”

“Oh! Sorry.” The brown haired one laughs around her popsicle. “I’m Shauna!”

“Serena’s my name,” the other says, bowing her head slightly in Clemont’s direction.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Clemont, though you uh, probably knew that already.”

“Alright! Let’s go,” Ash says, dumping his popsicle stick in the bin (how did he eat it so fast?). He pretty much races to the door and swings it open, leaving the rest of the group in the dust. Everyone else laughs and goes to follow him. Clemont takes a last look back at his physics revision, then laughs softly to himself and walks out the front door, locking it behind him.

The entire group except Ash still have their popsicles, though Bonnie’s is almost gone. Serena falls to the back of the group, next to Clemont.

“So… Ash is pretty cool, huh?” she says, and Clemont gets the feeling she’s trying to imply something, but he doesn’t know what.

“Yeah, he’s awesome.” he says warily, wondering what she’s getting at.

She squints at him, and sighs, as if knowing he wasn’t going to get it. “I used to have a crush on him too, y’know.”

He jumps and squeaks in surprise. Ash and Shauna look back at them questioningly and Serena gives them a thumbs up. Clemont can feel his face getting warmer. “I don’t- what? I don’t have a crush on him!” he hisses, trying to not let Ash hear.

“It’s written all over your face. I’m so sorry.” Serena shakes her head slightly and smiles. “He is the worst person to have a crush on.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“He’s oblivious to everything around him unless it’s an animal.” She claps him lightly on the shoulder and starts to move back to walking beside Shauna and Bonnie. “Good luck.”

Clemont looks at the back of her head blankly for a minute. Ash glances back at him. “Hey Clemont, are you okay? Your face is kinda red,” he says, and Clemont shakily smiles at him and nods, unable to speak. He smiles back, and turns around.

Clemont stares at him for a second, then buries his gradually growing more and more red face in his hands.

He absolutely has a crush on Ash Ketchum.

---

Ash bursts into the apartment, and Clemont, having been walking near the door, yelps in surprise and jumps a foot in the air.

“Clemont! Clemont Clemont Clemont-”

“That is not what I gave you that key for!”

“Sorry, but look at these!” Ash shoves a box in Clemont’s face and he takes it and holds it away so he can read it. His face slowly morphs into a mix of disgust and intrigue.

“Peanut butter banana popsicles?”

“Exactly.”

“Wh-” Ash doesn’t wait for Clemont to finish his sentence, instead grabbing his hand and dragging him through to the living room. He’s been holding my hand a lot recently, Clemont realises.

Ash lets go of Clemont’s hand and grabs the box from him. He tosses him one of the popsicles, taking one for himself and throwing the box on the coffee table. He plops down on the couch and tears off the wrapping.

Clemont sits down next to him and unwraps his one, watching as Ash lifts his to his mouth and takes a bite out of it. He immediately makes a face.

“It’s not… bad?” he says, uncertainly. “These flavours should not be cold.”

“Why do you bite into them?” Clemont shakes his head fondly and gives his popsicle an experimental lick. “I like it.”

They eat them in silence and Ash finishes his in under a minute like usual. He taps his finger on his leg a few times before getting up.

“Is this the only reason you came over?” Clemont asks amusedly, and Ash grins sheepishly.

“It was, but do you wanna go do something?”

Clemont tilts his head. “Like what?”

“I dunno, like, go get a milkshake or something.”

“We just had popsicles.”

Ash grins. “Your point?”

Clemont sighs fondly, finishing off his lolly and grabbing the wrappers and Ash's stick to put in the bin. “Okay, let's go.”

Ash blinks. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, sounds fun.”

Ash smiles even wider, and races out the door. Clemont isn't too worried about catching up - Ash doesn't have a car and can't drive, so he won't get very far.

Sure enough, Ash is waiting impatiently next to Clemont's car, and hops in immediately as soon as he unlocks it. Clemont laughs and gets in the driver's side.

“Can we go to Cafe Soleil?” Ash asks.

“What? That's on the other side of the city.”

“Yeah, but they have the best milkshakes.”

Clemont knows this is not a fight he can win, so he drives to Cafe Soleil without complaint.

They tumble into the warm cafe, and Ash orders two milkshakes to go.

(“Clemont, what do you want?”

“Uh… strawberry's fine.”

“One strawberry milkshake please, and uh… do you do banana?”

“I'm sorry, we don't.”

“Chocolate's fine, then.”)

“Clem.” Ash whines when they get out of the shop. “Clem.”

“What?”

“It's almost sunset.”

“...Yeah?”

“Can we go out to the firefly field?” Ash's eyes sparkle, and Clemont doesn't even know what the firefly field is, but he knows they're going there.

“The what?”

“The firefly field! Have you never been there?”

“...No?” Clemont says, wondering if he'll get home tonight or spend eternity in the “firefly field”.

“Come on, you have to go!” Ash exclaims, tugging on Clemont's shirt sleeve.

“Okay, we can go! You're gonna have to give me directions though,” Clemont says, but Ash is already back in the car.

They drive out of the city, sipping on their milkshakes (well, in Ash's case his milkshake was gone before they left the street) and Ash giving directions.

“This is the place!” he says happily, and Clemont stares out the window at a seemingly random cornfield. The sun was setting at this point, and it was getting dark already. Ash jumps out of the car and Clemont follows, slightly bewildered.

“What's up with this… random cornfield?”

“We gotta wait for the sun to go down.” Ash sits on the bonnet of the car and gazes up at the yellow-orange sky. Clemont sits next to him, but can't focus on the sun and keeps catching himself staring at Ash, and the way the sun reflects on his face.

The sun slowly goes down over the horizon as they watch, until it disappears completely. Ash sighs happily, then jumps down off the car and goes to the fence of the cornfield.

“What are you-” Clemont starts, then gasps as Ash hops the fence and fireflies spring up around his feet. “...doing?”

Ash grins at him, the light from the lightning bugs illuminating his face. He runs his hand over the stems and tiny lights spring up from under his fingers.

It's mesmerising.

“Come on, Clem, it's fine!” Ash spins in a circle, lights floating around him and making him look like a god commanding his army of angels.

In the back of his mind, Clemont realises this is trespassing, but he doesn't really care. With some difficulty, he climbs over the fence, and the fireflies respond to his hands as well.

Ash cheers, and suddenly grabs his hand and tugs him through the field. They run along, laughing as bugs fly up behind them, until they eventually collapse in the middle of the stems.

Their laughter slowly dies out and they fall into a comfortable silence. The stars are starting to show now, and Clemont wonders if he'll ever have the energy to get up.

---

Clemont hovers nervously outside Ash's apartment with a brightly coloured box. He keeps going to knock, but then thinking better of it.

Eventually, he manages to do three quick knocks on the door, then immediately panics as he hears Ash's voice on the other side call out “Coming!”

This was a mistake.

He has to wait a bit for Pikachu to be put in the other room, but eventually Ash opens the door and grins when he realises who it is.

“Hey Clem! What's up?”

“Uh, I…” Clemont's having a lot of second thoughts about this idea, and none of them are good. “I have to talk to you about something.”

Ash blinks, face becoming serious, and he seems to notice the box. “Is that… a box of popsicles?”

“Y-yeah, it's, uh… it's just to lighten the mood? I guess?” He laughs awkwardly. “I'm so sorry, this was a bad idea-”

“No, it's okay!” Clemont glances up at Ash. He's looking at him with a weird expression on his face. “Come in, uh, make yourself at home.”

Clemont shuffles into the living room, putting the box on the coffee table, next to the picture of Ash and Kaya that still hasn't been moved. They both sit on the couch, slightly more stiff than normal.

“So, what did you wanna talk to me about?” Ash asks, tilting his head (adorably) slightly.

Clemont can feel his face start to heat up already, and he hasn't even started talking yet. “Okay, well, uh…” He takes a deep breath. “I… like you,” he almost whispers. “I really like you. Like, romantically, I mean,” he adds hastily, knowing how dense Ash could be sometimes. “And I don't- you don't have to pretend to like me back, or anything, and I'm sorry, and I've probably made this more awkward than it has to be, and-”

Clemont is cut off by Ash's lips on top of his.

His brain barely registers the fact Ash is kissing me, before Ash is pulling away, panic in his eyes.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean- I just-”

Clemont shuts him up by kissing him again, and one hand goes up and tangles in his mess of dark curls. Ash starts kissing back after a moment of shock, hand caressing Clemont's cheek.

Ash tastes like banana popsicles and the off-brand peppermint toothpaste he uses. Like fireflies in a field surrounded by stars, and the cold, cold wind blowing through the stalks.

They break apart and Clemont looks into Ash's widened eyes. He imagines his own expression isn't much better.

“I really like you too,” Ash whispers, and Clemont kisses him again.