#now he can REALLY be my little dress up doll. heehee

[spacejade]

FINALLY

I CAN MAKE MAYOI IN SHINING NIKKI

[huramuna]

new valyria - one shot.

aemond x shera stark, modern. 18+, minors do not interact or you will be smited. a banshee's lament au.

new valyria, the hottest club in town, is owned by the Targaryen family. it is themed in the style of Valyria of old with towering pillars of ivory and gold. the dress code is strictly red and black and their signature drink, a fruity and spicy blended brandy, is called 'the Balerion'.

i might do more one shots in this au heehee.

word count: 5.5k

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, shera being a mess, aemond = whore?, aegon has rabies, helaena x shera agenda

ain't it fun - paramore • hard times - paramore

warnings: thigh riding, oral (f receiving), shera has a praise kink, aemond targaryen has a tongue piercing, semi public sex (they're in an alley)

“Sher, please don’t be a buzzkill, it's one night— just one!” Cregan exasperated, hands held out in a pleading fashion. He was pacing back and forth in front of his sister, perplexed. 

“It’s seriously not my scene, Cregan. I mean… loud music, flashing lights and intoxicated individuals everywhere? You really think that’s a good place for me to be?” Shera retorted, lazed back in her fluffy couch, glancing at her phone every once in a while.

“It’s really classy, trust me. There are tables to the side where you can sit away from the action.” 

“Why am I even going if I’m going to be ‘away from the action’?” she punctuated air quotes in his face. 

“When was the last time you left the house except to go to the post office? When was the last time you socialized with anyone who wasn’t me, Moongeist or Helaena?” 

Shera went silent, brow knitting together. She folded her arms over her chest defensively. “Low blow, make fun of the girl with an anxiety disorder and agoraphobia.” 

“I’m… I just want you to experience life! You’re young and spry— you should be out in the world trying everything while you still can! But instead, you insist on staying at home, wearing glasses that make you look like a librarian, and making soap. You already act the part of a grandma.” 

“It’s… I just don’t want anyone to see me, I don’t want to be perceived, Cregan. I don’t want people to look at me, to… to,” she gestured fervently to her eye, hands shaking slightly. She had a scar that ran the length of half of her face, bisecting her one eye into a milky-blue blindness. It was from a childhood accident, which was more or less a hazy nightmare to her now. “Y’know.”

“No one will see you, Shera. It’s… dark and low lit, that’s part of the experience.”

“Thirty minutes. I will stay approximately thirty minutes before I call an uber and go home. And… you have to do my laundry for… a month. No, two months!” Shera exclaimed, pointing out two fingers at him. Moongeist whined on the couch, giving a low warbling noise. 

–

Two hours later, she was dressed. She opted for a lacy baby-blue lolita style dress at first, but Cregan had protested immediately. 

“You look like a scary Victorian doll. Pick something from this era, please. Plus, there is a dress code of black and red.” 

Shoving a rude gesture in his face, she begrudgingly changed. She opted for a red satin dress. It had a scoop halter neckline which was certainly not her usual style. Glancing in the mirror, she wholly considered bailing out of the situation entirely. The snug fabric hugged her curves, her thighs rubbing together as she walked. She felt… exposed, all of the little dips and divots of her body on display— she wasn’t sure if it was even flattering. 

A small frown tugged at her lips as she fiddled with the plunging front of the dress, trying to get it to stay at a point where her breasts didn’t look like they were about to burst out and start kicking ass and taking names. Isn’t there tape made for this sort of thing? As self conscious as she was about the whole situation, there was something… liberating about getting dressed up with (almost) the sole purpose of being ogled at. While her face was something of a sore point, she would hope that at least one person in the club could find her body desirable. She was a ‘short-stack’ as Helaena called her, who worshiped her curves and soft spots like they were the second coming of a messiah. Shera squeezed her thighs together at the thought– if she didn’t get a hookup tonight, she would need to call Helaena. Some itches could only be scratched on your own for so long.

Pressing double-sided adhesive tape, that she used for her soap orders, to her chest, she somewhat successfully kept the satin in place. Giving another look and not quite on board with what she saw, she hid herself in an oversized puffy faux furred jacket. 

Just thirty minutes. It’s just thirty minutes, Shera. You can do this… just… chill out. 

Despite her lackluster words of affirmation and the subsequent panic bubbling in her stomach, she grabbed her purse. Her breathing was uneven and she took a hit from her emergency inhaler, hoping to the Gods at play that she wouldn’t have an asthma attack in the middle of the club. 

Shera imagined, somehow, dancing with some attractive number and getting hot and heavy (as if!) and then having to pull out her inhaler. Lung health is not cute. Oh, yeah, my airways get blocked sometimes by mucus and I can’t breathe. What do you mean you don’t want to stick your tongue down my throat? 

Myriad of issues aside, she pushed out of her room, head held not quite high, but just enough so she could see. 

Cregan nodded in approval (as if he was some sort of fashion expert) and they were off. The drive was quiet and Shera realized he never told her the club name. He always referred to it as ‘the club’. She somewhat understood the need for a dress code at an establishment like a lounge, but color coded? How pretentious. Shera and Cregan didn’t even really look good in red— they were more akin to monochromatic and cool toned blues rather than red. 

Red and black reminded her of… something. She couldn’t quite place it.

They pulled up to the building, which didn’t have a sign or anything. It was wedged in between two other buildings, but its architecture was vastly different. While the adjoining facilities were modern, the club looked like it was from ancient Greece. It had towering ivory pillars, etched in the simplistic but still somewhat complex design of corinthian filigree, the individual chips of the sculptor’s chisel still apparent— they were handmade, hand carved. The inside of the building emanated a foreboding and very deep red. 

Shera suddenly wondered if she was about to enter Mount Olympus— or maybe the underworld, as the sickly maroon color reminded her of the River Styx. 

The bouncer, a burly man who could easily bench press Cregan (an impressive feat, considering her brother was a hockey player built like a brick shit house) stood at the door. 

“Name.” the makeshift Charon grunted. Shera half expected him to start brandishing a wooden paddle. 

“Stark.” Cregan replied, hands in his pockets. 

Not-Charon looked at his list, then at the pair of Stark siblings, back and forth for at least thirty seconds. 

“S-T-A…” Cregan began to spell out their last name in irritation before the ferryman held up his hand in pause. 

“You’re on, go in.” 

Entering the club, to which Shera still didn’t know the name of, was certainly like entering the gates of Hell. She felt like Dante, entering the first circle, guided by Virgil. It was dark, the low boom of bass ringing in her ears. They were guided by a path of red floor lights. What is this? An amusement park? It was a weird mix of trepidation of entering the unknown— which to Shera, could either be the actual entrance to Hell, or the entrance to the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney world. All she was sure of is that she wanted a turkey leg and to go home. 

And yet, some part of her brain, as small and withered as it may be, pressed on for adventure and excitement. They approached the end of the path and it gave way to a large room, still painted in that deep saccharine hue. The roof was high-vaulted and curved inward– it was like stepping into the Pantheon, the coffered, domed ceiling seeming to go on forever. The club was set up in a circular manner, as the room curved around. The bar itself was in the middle, hugging a large stage platform. On the stage was a singular grand piano and a DJ station. All surfaces were decorated in ivory, accented by red velvet. 

The music playing was a mix of the piano and the DJ, working together to create a surprisingly exuberant melody that made Shera’s skin rise in goosebumps. 

“Let’s get drinks, Sher,” Cregan steered her to the wrapping bar quickly, his sights set on something or someone in particular.

Shera didn’t feel much like drinking– she had no taste for alcohol, only trying it a few times in her life and never enough to even get a buzz. She didn’t find the point in choking down liquid that tasted like poison only to feel like living death the next morning. She slipped into one of the velvet bar stools, her feet dangling under her.

“Just cranberry juice, please,” she murmured to the barkeep, who returned her request with an eyebrow raise. 

Cregan began whooping and hollering behind her and she turned to see someone she hadn’t seen in a long time: Jacaerys Velaryon. 

Once upon a time, Shera and Cregan had been extremely close to the Velaryon and Targaryen kids, growing up in the same social circles, they were all an unstoppable and very tight knit little group of hellions. 

But that was years ago– she didn’t talk to any of them anymore, except for Helaena, who she had stayed best friends with throughout the years, and may or may not be in a casual on and off situationship with.

She tried not to remember the fact that, at some point, she had been attached at the hip to Helaena’s brother, Aemond. They were like peanut butter and jelly, like cookies and cream, like macaroni and cheese, and any other iconic food (or maybe not, she was just hungry) related duo. Thick as thieves, they were. Until… the ever creeping monster of puberty and hormones and all the things related to growing up split them apart. Shera developed her terrible anxiety disorder, while Aemond flourished in academics and moved through the social ranks at school. They hadn’t spoken since they were sixteen, when Shera inevitably withdrew from physical school in favor of at-home, online school.

Shera approached him warily, seeing him laughing and joking with his friends that were just… so out of her atmosphere, she couldn’t even imagine having a conversation with.

They hadn’t been close in a few years but… it wouldn’t feel right just up and disappearing from school without telling him, right? 

Some stupid, childish part of her thought he might ask her to stay, ask her what’s wrong, ask her anything, really. 

But as she got closer, she felt all of their eyes on her, their lips pulled into sneers. It's irrational, it's irrational, it's irrational, she tried to reason with herself and her bubbling anxiety in her stomach. They aren’t laughing at you, they aren’t, they aren’t. 

But it… it feels like they were. Aemond’s blue eyes zeroed in on her, one slightly off-color than the other. They had both been involved in a childhood accident, leaving them both blinded. But, looking at the two of them, one would only be able to notice Shera’s glaring scar. 

Aemond’s eye and subsequent scar had been mostly covered up with extensive cosmetic surgery and other procedures, at his mother’s behest, and on his father’s dime, which was seemingly an endless well. His eye, which he lost, was replaced by a near perfect replica. No one who didn’t know him closely would ever notice.

At the time of the incident, Shera’s family was going through a transitional period– namely, her and Cregan’s father passing away while they were both underage, the following legal battle over inheritance with their uncle and just things that no kids should go through. It was the catalyst of Shera’s subsequent anxiety and myriad of following issues.

She didn’t even approach him further that day in the hall. She said nothing to him, merely turning on a heel and leaving.

That was eight years ago.

“Jace, my god,” Shera gaped, eyes wide. He certainly wasn’t a kid anymore and had put on some muscle mass– she assumed from playing hockey with Cregan (even if he was still dwarfed by the absolute unit of her brother). He had those unruly chocolate colored curls, oh-so reminiscent of his rumored father, Harwin Strong. But that was a touchy issue within itself and best left unsaid. 

“Shera!” Jace went in for the hug right away, squeezing the poor girl tight. “You look fantastic.” It felt like an obligated lie. 

“Thank you… um, what are you doing here?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, I’m always around this place most times or another. I DJ on the side when I’m not on the ice. Mom made a spot for me.”

Mom? What did Rhaenyra have to do with this?

She must have looked visibly confused. “You know this… is my family’s place, right? New Valyria?” 

It hit her like a train– a freight train that smacked into her and kept on going until there was nothing left of her but Shera-shaped dust. “Oh.”

“Cregan didn’t tell you?”

Her brother scratched a hand behind his head, looking somewhat sheepish. It was a weird look on him. “I… may have not. I wasn’t lying per say–” 

Shera opened her mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by a cup being slid her way by the bartender. Without looking, she lifted it to her lips and took a deep gulp. It was, in fact, her cranberry juice– but it had been mixed with vodka. Heavily. She suppressed the urge to spit it out and looked back up. “I asked for just juice.”

“It was sent from the gentleman over there,” the bartender pointed to a small alcove adjacent to them where none other than Aegon fucking Targaryen was sitting, legs splayed out like he owned the place (well, he did in some capacity, she supposed) and a lady on each arm. He had the biggest shit-eating grin she’d ever seen, staring right at her. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she put a hand on her forehead. “I’m leaving, Cregan. I don’t give a shit about the deal anymore.” 

“Shera, we’ve been here for five minutes–”

“Five minutes. It took five minutes for someone to somehow recognize me in this stupid red lighting– and not just someone, no, one of my childhood friends who hasn’t spoken to me in eons and is looking at me like I’m his next meal. Not to mention, my shithead brother didn’t mention that the club he is forcing me to go to is owned by said childhood friend’s family. I should’ve fucking guessed it with the red and black dress code, fucking pretentious. No offense, Jace,” she murmured, taking a breath. “I’m done.” she gathered her purse, slipping off of the seat. That vodka must’ve gone straight to her head, as she’d never been so adamant about something. Fuck it. She threw back the remainder of the glass of vodka cranberry (regretting it immediately) and flipped her brother another rude gesture.

She was so blinded by red– not just the color scheme, but the rage she felt bubbling as she rushed to the exit. The rage and anxiety was a more powerful cocktail than anything they served at the bar as she pulled out her phone with trembling hands, trying to call an uber. She didn’t look up the whole time, somehow managing to almost reach the gate to salvation– before she ran head first into a very hard body. A very hard body with a pointy fucking necklace on that stabbed her in the forehead. The force of her stumble was catastrophic, for her, as she fell to the ground on her ass. The hard body stayed upright, only shaken a little.

A heavily tattooed and, ahem, large calloused hand reached in front of her. She took it, half expecting to pull her own weight up, but was easily lifted to her feet. The hand was warm. Unnaturally warm. The smell of cigarette smoke and… sandalwood blew out her senses. She could feel his breath on her face as she swayed slightly into him– he was looking down at her directly, pupils boring holes into her. The heat of the situation rose into a fever pitch as they were practically pressed together, his hand straying to the small of her back so she wouldn’t fall over again. It felt terribly intimate.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry— I… the… I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to get out some sort of explanation to why she’d accidentally used this person as a springboard, but it just came out in a string of unintelligible ramblings. Her heels clicked on the floor, stumbling back and forth.

“It’s fine,” he replied. The voice sounded familiar, but still somewhat faraway in her mind. “Are you alright? You seem… unsteady.”

 She wouldn’t be surprised if she had given herself a concussion from face planting into… she glanced up, eyes trailing the body before her. He was tall with expensive Italian leather shoes and impeccably pressed slacks. His shirt was red and only half buttoned, leaving a small patch of sheer white-blondish chest hair. His hands, which dwarfed hers, were inked in tattoos that seemingly stretched his body, peeking out on his exposed torso. 

The offending pointy necklace revealed itself; a golden pendant of a Seven-Pointed star. Her stomach dropped into her feet as she realized exactly who it was. 

Fuckfuckfuck. Meeting his gaze, it was none other than Aemond Targaryen. Her former best friend, companion, partner in crime. She expected his face to twist into a sneer like it had before at school and she wanted to vomit. I have to get out of here. 

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed to her forehead where she had consecrated herself with his pendant. A bit of blood was trickling from her skin. 

That is what he has to say? You’re bleeding? No hello Shera, hi Shera, I recognize you Shera? A frown made home on her face as she realized he might not even remember her. 

“Um, it’s… it’s fine,” she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, feeling it being replaced with new droplets. “Sorry for running into you, sir.” Sir? What the fuck is wrong with you, Shera? 

“At least let me help you get cleaned up, yeah?” Aemond pressed, tilting up her head to most likely observe her wound– but it also felt like he was sizing her up, checking her out. “Only if you call me sir again.”

She made a garbled noise of surprise at his last comment, her mouth opening to try and spew out some half-assed cheeky reply. “I… I guess,” she murmured. She really just wanted to go home and cry and never leave the house again— but that stupid and childish part of her brain that hadn’t resurfaced itself since leaving school was nagging her. It felt sickly euphoric to her to see him again. She hated to be objectifying, but he had grown up to be, quite frankly, gorgeous. “S-... sir,” she squeaked out lastly, finally thankful for the gaudy lighting– without it, Aemond would’ve seen her face lit up like a tomato. 

He nodded with a ‘hm’ noise, leading her down a hallway to the far side of the Pantheon. It was lit up normally with sconces on the wall giving clear white light. It was obviously a staff-only path. 

Okay, Shera. Breathe. You can get through this. Let him put a bandaid on your head and hopefully not recognize or remember you and you can be on your way. You always wondered what he grew up to look like and now you know! Here is your little Aemond fix to mend the Aemond sized hole in your heart. Then you can move on and totally not wallow over this for weeks.

The office was nice– it was his, she knew instantly. It had tall bookshelves filled with different philosophers and big named authors, no doubt some of them first or second editions worth thousands. Shera felt like she was intruding, like she didn’t belong. She didn’t, really. Swaying side to side, she awaited further instruction.

“Come,” he said, not so much asking. He seemed to lack some manners these days– Alicent must be aghast.

She shuffled and took a seat in one of the chaise velvet seats in front of the desk. She fluffed into her coat, wanting to just hide, her muddled mind replaying the way he spoke. Come, come, come. Christ, I need to get laid– maybe I should call Helaena. The lights, still a bit low, weren’t a scathing fluorescent color like on the club floor. He could most certainly see the scar running down her face– and the fear she held in her eyes. 

Even though it was plain as day, he didn’t say anything. He opened a first aid kit, dabbing her forehead with peroxide soaked gauze, his expression watching her every movement. His gaze was almost snake-like, unblinking as he observed.

She hissed at the sting of it, gritting her teeth slightly. He only gave an answer of a slightly knit brow. 

It was silent— save for Shera’s quiet and slightly wheezy, squeaky breathing. Her hands were clenched on her knees, her dress riding up her skin, which she was constantly tugging downward. As he shuffled closer, one knee knocked between her two shaking ones. Was that an accident? The creeping heat only seemed to grow.

The soft beat of the music from the club coupled with the blood rushing in Shera’s ears made her want to scream. Everything seemed in slow motion as Aemond, still apparently a painstakingly asinine perfectionist, took his sweet time to patch her up. This gave her time to watch him in turn, focusing mostly on the way his lips were upturned, cupid’s bow taut. Flicking back up to his eyes, they were looking back and forth from her lips to her own gaze. The air around them seemed to go stagnant. Holy fuck, does he want to kiss me or do I have something on my face? 

Her eyes must’ve read confusion, panic, elation and all the things in between that go with wanting to kiss an almost stranger in a club– but he wasn’t exactly a stranger to her. But, she supposed she was to him. His fingers tilted her chin upward and his lips curled into a smug grin, auto completing her thoughts. 

He pressed a bandage to her forehead, mouth open to say something, like he was going to do something, but he was caught off guard by the door to his office slamming open. Shera didn’t even look to see who it was— she was more focused on the fact that Aemond goddamn Targaryen had a tongue piercing. She felt like she was going to melt.

“Hey Aem, that fuckin’ slag bit me— do you think I should go get a rabies shot or something?” a slightly slurred voice drawed. “Ohhh, shit.” Aegon stumbled into the room, leaning on the doorframe. He was, in fact, bleeding from his neck, some very prominent bite marks marring his skin, coupled with vicious looking hickies. 

“Busy,” Aemond grunted, focusing his gaze back on tending to Shera. 

“Like busy or… busy? I don’t see your hand up her skirt or anything, so you can’t be that busy.” 

“Fuck off, Aeg,” he continued, gritting his teeth in annoyance. “Seriously.” 

“Well, Criston wants to talk to you ‘bout throwing that girl out— since it is your management night, eh?”

The smallest breath of annoyance slipped from the younger brother’s lips. “I’ll be right back.” 

Aegon still loomed in the doorway after he left, staring at Shera. “You didn’t like my drink?” 

“I don’t really drink.” 

“And yet… you’re at a bar where they serve alcohol.” 

“I’m trying to leave,” she sniffed.

“Not hard enough apparently,” Aegon flicked open a lighter, taking a drag from a suddenly lit cigarette. “You look like a lost pup, Shera.” 

“You remembered me.” 

“I may have the IQ of a golden retriever but I’m not that stupid. I couldn’t exactly forget your bird’s nest of red hair or himbo of a brother. Seriously, all those body slams from hockey must’ve damaged his brain.” 

Shera snorted a little laugh. “Aemond doesn’t even seem to recognize me— or, he hasn’t said anything.” 

“He’s got his head too far up his own ass to recognize anything other than cunt. He’s more of a whore than I am these days,” he took a deep drag, puffing smoke out into the hall. “Don’t be surprised if he fingers you before he even asks for your name.” 

An unfamiliar feeling churned in Shera’s stomach. “I… I gotta go.” she huffed, grabbing her purse and walking past Aegon. She was biting down so hard on her lip that it started to bleed, the metallic taste savoring like lead on her tongue. 

She makes her way through the throngs of people, everything around her a blur. It seemed that Aemond didn’t remember or recognize her– fine, that was fine. She didn’t expect him to– who would, really? Her eye unwillingly caught a glance of his figure again on the outskirts of the club. He was talking to a woman dressed in a sparkling red dress, looking like Jessica fucking Rabbit. His hands eclipsed the woman’s hips as they were leaned close together, clearly in some sort of heated conversation. 

 Her throat felt slightly constricted as she pushed out of the exit door into the alley. Has she misread his signals? They were totally about to kiss before Aegon came in, right? 

He’s a bigger whore than me these days.

Fat tears rolled down her face unwillingly as she leaned on the brick wall of the alley, fumbling for her phone again. Why did it hurt? It was stupid, she was stupid– they hadn’t seen each other in eight years and he didn’t even recognize her– so why did it sting to see… that? 

She texts for an uber rather than calling as her emotions are in no place to talk to someone. She drops her phone on the concrete several times by how much she’s shaking– she doesn’t even hear the door of the club close with a creak behind her.

“You left. I wasn’t done patching you up,” Aemond slunk around into her line of sight, head bowed low to try to look at her face.

She swiveled to the side to hide her expression and distress in her phone. “... had to go, sorry,” she whispers, trying her best to sound like she wasn’t crying.

“I didn’t mean for him to interrupt us– my brother’s an idiot,” he was chasing her face. “Let me see.” he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face to him again. She let him, forever putty in his hands. If only he knew. If only he really cared.

His thumb wiped away some of the tears. “It doesn’t hurt that bad, does it?” he whispered, getting close to her once more like they were in the office. “I can always kiss it better, hm?” 

It felt like an invitation, the opening of a letter of acceptance to some grandiose college she could never afford, never fit into– but for one moment, she decided to bask in it. Let the hurt come later; it always comes later. He had been interested in some capacity. Not in her, not really her, but for some anonymous club fling. 

Fine.

“Why don’t you, then?” she returned, eyes half lidded under his heavy gaze.

It was all the consent he needed– their lips melded together, all tongues and teeth. It was borderline obscene, like they were attacking each other. His hand threaded through her hair, tongue tracing the outline of her cupid’s bow before tangling into her mouth. She felt the ball of his tongue piercing meld against her. He tasted like coffee and cigarettes– on anyone else, Shera would find it unpleasant, but she was so intoxicated on the idea that Aemond’s tongue was in her mouth, she didn’t care. She even would say she liked it.

Heat kindled between the two of them, coming to a roaring flame as he slotted his leg between her legs again– before must have just been a prelude, as he didn’t give any indication that his knee pressed against her clothed core was an accident. No, it was pure intention. He lofted some of her weight onto his leg, encouraging her to chase her pleasure, hand riding up her dress to grip her bottom firmly. 

She gave an experimental roll of her hips, finding her arousal and ever growing wetness to only increase, whimpering a small moan into his mouth. He, apparently liking that, pulled her back from his face by her hair, staring down at her like he wanted to commit her expression to memory.

“Come on,” he growled, voice husky against the shell of her ear. “Ride my fucking leg.” Aemond’s lips connected with her skin again on her neck. 

It felt like a lightning bolt struck her right in her core, making her toes curl and tingle. Her mouth was open as she pleasured herself on him, using him– she was approaching her end almost embarrassingly fast as he angled his leg a bit more upward, pinpointing all the pressure onto her clit, which at this point, was barely even guarded behind her panties. Aemond’s hand on her bottom slinked the elastic of her underwear until he reached the front, two fingers swiping down her soaked folds. 

“Soaked for me, are you?” he asked, parting her underwear to the side to rest against her thigh, her bare cunt now in direct contact with his clothed leg. She was surely making a mess on his expensive slacks, she didn’t even have to look. He quirked a brow and laved his tongue over one of the fingers that had just slid through her wetness, testing the taste. 

Her brow furrowed and the building heat, the harp’s string right in her core, came undone with that. She wanted to moan his name– she almost said it. “A–,” she cried, burying her face in his shoulder as she rode out her orgasm on his leg. 

“That’s a good girl,” Aemond praised, his words of affirmation going straight to her core. She did, unfortunately, have a praise kink. “Can you stand?” 

“Mmh– y-... yes,” she replied as he took away his leg– but not before sending her into slight overstimulation with a cheeky bump to her clit. 

“Good, stay there, love,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead (which felt strangely familiar out of this supposed random club hookup). “Wanna taste you now. You can give me one more, can’t you?” 

Her legs wobbled as he got down on his knees in the back alley on his no doubt designer pants (now painted with a souvenir from her) to eat her out. She could barely speak, just nodding.

“That’s right,” he hummed, squeezing into her thigh as he spread her legs. She was dripping right into his mouth as his warm lips made contact with her– he teased her slightly by blowing on her bare skin, chuckling as she squirmed and whimpered. “You’re too cute.” his tongue flattened and laved over her cunt, not letting a drop of her arousal go to waste as he went to town. He continued his teasing by edging just around her clit, making her chase his mouth slightly as he moved to suckle just outside of that spot.

It was torture. Sweet, sweet torture as he edged her for a good two minutes while she was already on the edge again. The coolness of his tongue piercing sent chills up her spine as he finally, finally began to zero in on her pearl, the ball of the piercing dancing around it, stimulating her to a delicious peak. 

“P-Please, please, please,” she whined, fisting his hair. 

He had the audacity to look up at her, face first in her thighs, and wink at her. All remnants of teasing were gone as he began to feast, focusing solely on pulling out her second orgasm. It didn’t even register to her, as she was clenching around nothing, tears welling in her eyes from the sheer intensity of her peak, that he hadn’t gotten off yet– she had hardly touched him. He was focusing all on her.

She went boneless for a moment as she came down from her high, almost moaning his name again. He held her until she came back down to earth. 

Her hands fiddled to his belt, she desperately wanted to return the favor– 

“Your uber’s here, love,” he murmured, helping her out of the alley to the car awaiting. She looked down, realizing her phone had been unlocked on the uber ETA screen. 

She was spinning still, reeling from the entire interaction. Next thing she knew, she was sitting in the back of her uber as Aemond stood, door in hand. 

“Bye, Shera.” he grinned, closing the door.

He knew the whole time.

[the-good-noodle-kf]

The Happiest Place on Earth (is When We’re Together) Part 2/2

This is technically a late entry for day three of saiou week but since it is legitimately more than four months late, I’m not going to describe it as such. But! It’s a part two of its previous part one-

(In which Shuichi loves everything about Kokichi, from his unbreachable veil of lies, to his annoying, yet somehow unexplainably endearing personality, and everything in between (but he can’t admit it because he thinks Kokichi might be lying about his own feelings towards Shuichi.)

Also, they go to Disney World together! :} :}

Rated T: for crude language and sexual innuendos.)

It’s not the alarm that wakes Shuichi up in the morning…

He’s woken up by a loud, startling, “HAAAAAI-YAAHH!” accompanied by a loud thump, followed by the sensation of pain where his body meets the floor, and then more pain everywhere else as something falls on top of him. 

“Uggghh,” a pained moan resonates from above him as a hand pushes him closer to the floor. 

Kokichi pushes himself up, still disoriented, and realizes he’s been attacked in his sleep. 

He looks up and faces his assailant. “So you think it’s a good idea to disrupt an evil supreme leader’s sleep, huh?” He asks as he gets to his feet, only just realizing Shuichi must’ve been the one to break his fall, since he’s underneath him, and the pain in his own body is concentrated at his stomach where he was kicked instead of anywhere else. “What’s your goal?”

“I should ask you the same thing!” She points at him accusingly. “What were you planning sneaking in our room during the night! Such suspicious behavior is fitting for a degenerate male.”

Shuichi sits up, rubbing his head with a groan. His surroundings tell him that he was pushed off of the bed, blanket and all. 

“Nyeh? What time is it?” Himiko raises her head from her pillow, her hair thoroughly tangled from sleep.

Shuichi glances at the digital clock on the night table. “It’s… seven o’clock.”

“Too early,” she mutters before collapsing back on the bed. 

Shuichi rubs his eyes and stands to his feet. “We should get ready.”

“First, explain what you were doing in here!” Tenko commands.

“Weeelll, the manager of this resort came by to tell us we had to sleep in this room or they’d kick us all out!” He prattles falsehoods.

Shuichi amends the statement with the truth. “We traded beds with Maki and Kaito.”

Himiko perks up again, “huh? Why would you do that.”

“Miu was trying to fuck Keebo with us in the room!” He exclaims.

“Kokichi, stop lying.” Himiko seems oddly annoyed. It must be because she’s tired.

“Actually, that’s not a lie,” Shuichi assures them.

“What!? Tenko will set them straight!” She proclaims as she swings open the door to the other room and starts scolding them. Shuichi, from his position on the floor, can see Maki packing some knives away into her backpack. He really hopes she doesn’t plan on taking them into the park.

Kokichi shuts the door behind her and the upcoming mayhem, grinning wildly. “Whatcha guys waiting for? We’re going to Disney!”

“Ah...” the detective yawns. 

“I wanna go back to sleep…” For her next trick, the magician disappears under the covers.

--

“Hey, that wasn’t too bad. We might not be the first ones on this bus, but we still got seats!” Kaito hits them with some positivity.

Maki’s shockingly awake, and Shuichi never expected she’d be a morning person. 

“How the hell do people wake up this early?” Miu asks rhetorically before chugging down a thermos of hot coffee.

Keebo smiles beside her and hands out breakfast snacks that he packed for all of them. 

Shuichi takes a granola bar. “Thank you.”

“This doesn’t make up for you’re unforgivable behavior, vermin!” Tenko makes sure he knows that much before grabbing an apple from his hand and furiously wiping it with her shirt before biting it. 

Himiko’s sleeping on Tenko’s shoulder, and none of them are convinced she woke up at all to get ready; Tenko carried her to the bus stop, and she hasn’t spoken once. 

“Nee-heehee!” Shuichi isn’t sure why Kokichi’s drinking Panta this early, but he is. “Shuichi! Did you download that app I told you about?”

The detective cocks his head to the side, before he remembers. “Ah, yea.”

“Open it up! C’mon.”

So he does; it’s kind of like charades with talking, and there’s a Disney themed category. Kokichi mentioned how it would be a good way to pass time before they visited. He chooses a total of four teams, since there are eight of them, and passes the phone to Kokichi. 

“I’m gonna win!”

“Huh?” Kaito looks over.

“We’re all gonna play. Tenko, wake Himiko up or I’ll have Shuichi poison that apple like an evil old lady!”

“I won’t let him!” Tenko fights back.

“I-I wouldn’t do that!” Shuichi waves his hands in front of his face frantically, looking more than a little worried. The outburst, however, does the trick. Himiko slowly blinks her eyes and yawns. 

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna play a game, m-kay?” Kokichi grins, showing off his teeth.

“Nyeh, okay.”

“What’re you guys playing?” Miu asks, raising an eyebrow and tucking her thermos away. 

“You too! We put it on our forehead and our teammate describes it without saying what it is. If they guess it, tilt the phone down, and tilt up to skip.”

“I don’t trust that you won’t cheat.”

Kokichi sticks out his tongue. “Ugh, fine then, you can go first Harumaki.”

“Don’t call me that.” She glares threateningly as he passes her the phone.

She lifts the phone to her head and the game begins. “Kaito, describe them.”

“Uhhh..” he squints. “Skip that one.”

Keebo opens his mouth to speak, but then he realizes it’s not his turn and keeps quiet. 

“Oh! It’s the toy!”

“Hah, I bet you wish it was a sex toy,” Miu remarks.

“Fuck no!” Kaito yells back, before trying to explain. “He’s the space one! To infinity, and beyond!” Kaito puts a fist in the air. 

“Buzz Lightyear.”

“Yeah! Oh, that guy’s real strong. He can probably do almost as many push-ups as me.”

“Strong…” Maki furrows her brows. “Hercules.”

“You got it Harumaki. Okay, now this one’s a princess. The one with the yellow dress.”

“Belle.”

“Uhh, this one. Skip it. Okay, another princess. She also wears yellow, I guess…” He scratches his goatee. “Red ribbon, I think, and short hair.”

“Snow White.”

“He’s a duck-”

“Hey! Duck is in the name, degenerate!”

“Oh, fuck, right. Skip.”

“He’s a doll, and he can’t lie. Well, he can lie, um.”

“What..?”

“His nose. It gets longer if he lies. Yeah, that’s it. It’s his nose.”

“Heh.” Miu smirks.

The ex-assassin stares. “I’m skipping.”

“Maki! Oh you know this one-” he begins when there’s a beep.

“Awwww, looks like you’re out of time!” Kokichi grabs the phone and looks at the list of characters. “You guys only got four! Hey Shuichi, put this on your head. We got this.”

 “Right!” Shuichi nods, taking the phone and getting ready.

“Mmm, Shumai, you gotta tilt the phone forward a little.”

“Hah-haha! Pooichi can’t even do it right!”

“One, two, three, go! He’s the monkey in Lion King!” 

Shuichi thinks for a moment. “Um… Raf-Rafiki?”

“Yup! Girl Mickey rat!”

“Wh- Minnie Mouse?”

Kokichi nods, “Nee-heehee! It’s Miu!”

“Nnnnnnnn,” Miu squirms in her seat.

“Miu? Kokichi, what?”

“Y’know, Miu. In that famous spaghetti scene from that movie with the dogs.”

Shuichi hesitates, “...Tramp?”

“Right-o! Didn’t know you had it in you Shuichi! Skip!”

“O-okay,” Shuichi stutters. 

“Hmmm, Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na!” he sings.

“Kokichi…”

“C’mon Shuichi! You can do it. If she doesn’t scare you, then nobody will!” he continues impishly.

“Cruella De Vil...”

“Good job Shumai! Oh! Oh! They’re emo like Shuichi!” 

“Kokichi… I already told you I’m not like Eeyore…”

“Nee-heehee, you still got it. His mom was shot!”

“...is this really in a Disney Movie?”

“Yup! Would I lie to you, Shuichi?”

“Yes.”

“He’s a deer!”

“Right, I think I’m gonna skip.”

“Shuiichiii,” Kokichi whines, “you could’ve gotten that one. But skip this one. Hmm, oh, evil lion!”

“Scar!” The detective declares.

“Okay! Last one! Glass shoe!”

“Cinderella.”

“Yeah! Times up! We got seven! I bet no one else can beat that.” He taunts.

“Oh yeah?” Miu challenges, taking the phone and putting it on her head. 

 The countdown begins. Keebo frowns. “Um, I don’t know that one. Skip. That one either… Who is Scrooge McDuck?”

“You’re not supposed to say it!” Kaito exclaims.

“But who is it?” Himiko asks. All of them, except for a very focused Miu and Keebo, shrug.

“She’s a small fairy!” 

“Scrooge McDuck is a small fairy?” 

“No, Keebo is describing the character on Miu’s head.”

“Tinker Bell!” Miu slams her free hand down on her lap. “Hah! I’m a fuckin’ genius!”

“Correct! He is a dog.”

“I’m gonna need more than that babe.”

“My apologies! He is friends with a cat, if I remember correctly.”

“C’monn Keebo, hurry up.” Miu urges.

“He has a birthmark shaped like lightning!”

“Harry Potter?”

“Harry Potter is not a dog, nor is he Disney!”

Wh-what? I got it wrong?” Miu seems shocked as she meekly looks away.

Keebo keeps playing, already accustomed to Miu’s random bouts of timidness. “Skip! She is the significant other of Simba. She… when we watched the movie you said she has bedroom eyes...”

“Hah-hahah! Nala. All you had to say for that one was bedroom eyes. That was all I needed.”

“He was raised by animals!”

“Oooh! Gonta! Hah! I totally nailed it!” 

“Gonta is not a Disney character.” Keebo asserts.

“He’s not?!” Kokichi gasps like he’s been lied to his whole life.

“He swings on vines!” Keebo stands to his feet and pounds his fists against his chest. “Aaaaaaa-auaa-aaaaaaah!”

Kokichi boos, “Kee-boooooo! Your time ran out.”

“Wait, Gonta isn’t Tarzan?” Himiko tilts her head skeptically.

Miu takes the phone down and looks over the results, the others peering over.

Kokichi laughs, “You idiots! You only got two!”

“Shut up cuck!”

“Ahahahaaha!”

 “It’s our turn!” Tenko declares. She hands the phone to Himiko and eagerly waits until the mage holds it against her forehead. The round begins. 

“In the morning, Himiko is usually…”

“Sleepy,” she answers correctly.

“Skip! A degenerate male that steals bread!”

“Aladdin!”

“She’s an innocent princess that’s defiled in her sleep!”

“Aurora.”

“Another degenerate, this one tries to trick a girl into leaving her parents forever!”

“Nyeh… Peter Pan.”

“Aha! His name describes him perfectly!”

“Beast.”

“She has long, golden hair!”

“Rapunzel.”

“Skip this one! And this one! She saves China!”

“Mulan.”

“The least menacing of all males!”

“The… hunchback, maybe.”

“His full name!”

“Quasimodo!”

“She’s a beautiful native princess that’s manipulated into betraying her people.”

“Pocahontas.”

“She’s a sea witch that tricks a naive mermaid!”

“Ursula.”

“A degenerate talking dog!”

“...Bolt?” 

“No, another one!”

“Nyeh?” Himiko tilts her head.

“He’s friends with vermin!”

“It’s goofy!”

“Yes! Skip, ahhh, Himiko, we’re out of time.”

“Nyeh, we couldn’t have lost with my spell casting helping us.” They all glance at the screen, showing eleven correct.

“How did you do that?!” Keebo is astounded. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that he and Miu were only able to answer two correctly.

Himiko’s smile brightens. “With my magic…” 

 --

 After making their way through the security check...

  (Kaito was plucked out of the group to pass through the body scan machine, and complained, “Oh come on! I’m the suspicious one?!”

“Of course!” Tenko remarked.

Shuichi took note that Maki was able to successfully smuggle in her weapons. It was a little disconcerting, but the thought of a possible forthcoming lifetime ban from Disney World was a little more disconcerting.)

(Kokichi also begged the seven of them to rent a stroller to push him around in, but sadly, they did not.)

 ...They make their way through the crowd toward Tomorrowland. 

 Shuichi had set up fast passes for them in advance, so they would get to do more things with less waiting. Their first one was for Space Mountain, at Kaito’s request. Himiko and Tenko had mentioned that they are not a fan of big roller coasters, so they opted for a fast pass for Peter Pan’s Flight. It isn’t until later though, so they go on line for the race-track ride as the remaining six of them hurry towards the roller coaster. 

Kaito’s expressions display his complete captivation with the theme of the ride, and Shuichi can just tell from that, that this is definitely Kaito’s favorite ride. Keebo is appreciating the decoration too. Kokichi is bouncing with excess energy at just riding rides in general, and all the positivity must be rubbing off on Maki; she’s smiling slightly. Miu’s pretty pumped up and isn’t making any profane jokes for the moment. Shuichi is smiling, but at them all; he’s glad to be there with them all. 

The Neo-Aikido Master and the self-proclaimed mage meet up with them soon after to go on another ride in Tomorrowland; Maki’s score on the Buzz Lightyear laser shooting ride surpasses the rest of theirs by far, but Kokichi still manages to get in second place, winning against Tenko by a few points. 

“Our next fast pass is for Pirates of the Carribean.” Shuichi reads off of his phone. 

“Nyeh? Where is that?” Himiko asks, peering over his shoulder.

“Nee-heehee! I say we go this way until we find it!” Kokichi spins around and stops, pointing his finger in a random direction.

“Kokichi! You’re just going to get us lost again. We should stick to the map!”

“Boooring, Keeboy. Are robots only capable of coming up with predictable ideas?”

“I am not a robot!”

Shuichi looks at the map in Keebo’s hands. “It… says it’s this way.” Shuichi points.

“Good job Shumai! Your navigational skills are almost as good as Rantaro’s!” Kokichi praises gleefully.

“Kokichi! You’re doing the same thing I suggested!”

“Hmmm, nope. Shuichi using the map is waaaay different,” Kokichi lies. 

“It’s not different at all!” Kaito disagrees, and Kokichi just laughs.

 --

 “This ride is about me!” Kokichi claims from his seat beside Shuichi.

“No one cares,” Himiko drawls, leaning against Tenko, half watching the animatronic pirates sing.

“How is this ride about you?!” Keebo challenges.

“Don’t you know Keebo, I live a secret life as a famous pirate! I am the phantom pirate, king of the seas!”

“That’s a lie!” he accuses from the row of seats behind. 

“Yup, now be quiet Keeboy! You’re disrupting the other people on the ride!”

“Kokichi, you’re the one who-!”

Kokichi shushes him, grinning. He subtly scoots closer to Shuichi, but Shuichi still notices it and tries to stop himself from blushing. 

Shuichi isn’t stupid. He knows it is fairly likely that Kokichi’s interested in him romantically. His blatant proclamations along with some observed involuntary mannerisms have clued him into that much.

However, Shuichi is a detective, which means he can only make deductions; he knows it’s likely that Kokichi likes him, but he’s not sure. He has known Kokichi for years, and if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that Kokichi Oma is a liar. He can’t risk reciprocating these feelings that Kokichi has been projecting, because he knows that it might be a lie, and if it is a lie, then things would get awkward, and awful, and Shuichi is happy just being next to Kokichi. If being close to Kokichi means that he has to shove down his feelings, then so be it. 

 --

 “Fuck it’s hot outside,” Miu states the obvious, fanning herself with her shirt. 

Himiko and Tenko approach. “I knew my tracking spell would help us find you guys.” 

“Hey,” Kaito greets them, “we’re about to go on the Haunted Mansion.”

“Ooooo, sounds exciting!” Tenko chirps while Himiko nods with a smile.

 --

 As they get wait to get inside the elevator of the Haunted Mansion ride, Kokichi speaks up, “Hey Kaito, guess what?”

“What?”

“A whole buuuunch of riders actually died on this very ride ten years ago! People say their ghosts haunt the ride and mess with the seats! Workers even claim that some of the decorations aren’t just fake projections, but real ghosts!”

“Wh-wh-what?!” Kaito screeches, clinging to Maki, who returns Kokichi’s claim with a glare.

Miu guffaws, “hah! That’s bullshit.” 

“Kokichi, everyone knows you’re lying!” Keebo points at him.

Kaito crosses his arms and avoids eye contact. “...yeah, you’re obviously lying.”

Kokichi grins, “are you sure?”

(Maki starts glaring even more than usual at Kokichi after she finally gets Kaito to stop screaming about the “definitely real” ghosts)

 --

 They’re strolling through Fantasyland after eating something for lunch.

“Hey,” Kaito walks back from where he was walking ahead with Maki, “we’re about to go on, uh… the teacups.” He points towards the Wonderland-themed ride.

“It’s a mad tea party!” Kokichi grins.

“Me and Keebo are gonna go on Splash Mountain instead.”

“Isn’t the wait for that, two hours?” Shuichi inquires.

“Yeah? So? ...I just wanna get soaked.”

There’s a relative groan of annoyance at the innuendo.

“We’ll meet you guys at Cosmic Ray’s after,” she informs them, remembering the name from Kaito when he was talking about where he could get a burger.

 --

 “Wheeee! Shuichi, isn’t this fun?”

“Kokichi, could you please slow down?” Shuichi doesn’t mind going fast, but this is… very fast. He’d like to go a little bit slower, at least.

“Hmmm, fine, but only for you, my beloved.” Kokichi smiles wide.

Shuichi’s cheeks turn pink.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Kaito groans from beside them. Tenko wanted all the girls to go in one teacup, and since the teacups are two to three per cup, it worked out pretty well… for them.

As soon as they get out from under the hood of the teacup ride, rain starts pouring down.

“Shit,” Kaito mutters.

“Of course you degenerate males wouldn’t come prepared! Luckily, me and Himiko came prepared!” She reaches into the magician’s small backpack and pulls out some rain ponchos. 

“Tada!” Himiko proclaims, “eight magic ponchos for all of us.” She hands them out to the group.

“Too bad Miu and Keebo aren’t here to use them.”

“Nee-heehee! Guess they’re getting soaked after all!”

 --

 Eventually, after some more walking and shopping around, they find solace from the rain at the restaurant Kaito insisted they all go to for dinner. Shuichi remembers him mumbling something about the “full Tomorrowland experience” or whatever that means. It works out alright though, since Kaito gets his burger, and the rest of them get to sit down. It’s still pretty early for dinner, but they plan to make it back to the hotel to rest so they can be back and more awake for the fireworks. 

They’ve all got a booth to themselves, which is good because that means no one besides the five of them has to witness Kaito inhaling his burger unless they look his way. It also means no one can hear Tenko when she scolds him for his lack of manners. 

“Shuichi! Feed me a fry!”

Shuichi blushes but picks up a fry and lowers it towards Kokichi’s head as it rests in his lap. “Please don’t choke Kokichi.”

“I’m the supreme leader of an evil organization! You think eating while laying down could kill me? No way!” He insists, inching up towards the fried potato.

“If you’re sure…” Shuichi trails off as Kokichi eats the french fry.

He prattles on after chewing, “I’m the king and Shuichi is my servant! Nee-heehee-ouch!”

Kaito snorts, food in his mouth as he asks, “did you just bump your head on the table?”

Kokichi sits up from Shuichi’s lap, rubbing his forehead. “Of course not, I just bypassed an assassination attempt. Because of my invisible helmet, Harumaki’s blow to my head only gave me a teensy headache,” he lies, adding hand gestures to emphasize.

“That’s a lie,” Maki calls him out this time, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “If I were to attempt to take your life, you wouldn’t survive,” she assures him.

“Awwww, does that mean Harumaki doesn’t actually hate me after all?” Kokichi tilts his head, his voice teasing.

“Don’t push it.” Her expression is deadpan. 

“Do you want me to feed you a fry, Himiko?” Tenko tilts her head, holding up the offered fry.

“Nyeh… I’m okay.” Himiko bites into her burger. 

“Okay!” Tenko smiles. “So how was everyone else’s time while we were gone? Hopefully not getting into too much trouble.” 

“Nee-heehee, what else can you expect from an evil leader like me?” His grin broadens. “Keebo screamed like a little kid on the rollercoaster! Too bad you missed it!” Kokichi teases.

“What time is it?” Kaito asks, looking towards Maki as she sips her water. 

She reaches into her backpack and checks her phone. “It’s five-ten.”

“Hey fuckers,” Miu greets as she walks up to their table with her tray alongside a very wet and sulking Keebo.

“Miu! You’re shirt’s see-through!” Kaito yells reproachfully.

“Heeeeee!” Miu covers herself. “Well don’t look perv…” she mumbles as she sits down meekly.

“I didn’t know Keeboy was water-proof!” Kokichi changes the subject with faux surprise.

“Kokichi, we have been in the pool at the same time!”

 --

 They get back into the park around eight-thirty, a little more awake than before. 

“Shouldn’t we just go back to the hotel? It’s still raining…” 

“Not before the fireworks Keeboy! I wanna see things explode!” Kokichi exclaims.

Keebo and Miu have rain ponchos on now too, not that it’s making much of a difference since they ran from the buses without them.

They all try to navigate through the crowd in front of the castle to find the best place to see the fireworks from as possible. It’s not very full, since it’s still raining, but a decent crowd has decided to stick around. 

The rain turns to drizzles as the show begins.

Shuichi looks at Kokichi’s face light up in amazement while watching the firework show and feels warm inside.

 --

 They go on a few other rides they weren’t able to get to earlier. (One of them is called Astro Orbiter and they ride it mainly for Kaito.) 

They’re sort of just roaming around when Miu halts the group in their steps. “I gotta go on jungle cruise. I sorta told Gonta I’d get some pictures of the animals... C’mon Keebo.”

“Okay!” Keebo nods.

For some reason, this prompts Maki and Kaito to converse amongst themselves before approaching Shuichi. “We’re gonna head back. Y’know what they say: early to bed and early to rise.” Kaito pats Shuichi on the back and gives him a wink… for… some reason.

“Ah, okay.”

“Have fun, we’ll see you later…” Maki smiles as they head towards the exit, four remaining.

“Are you tired yet Kokichi?” Shuichi asks.

“Who needs sleep when you can stay up late and wake up early in the morning?”

“...”

“But, I was more tired earlier. Taking a nap with Shuichi made me much more awake! I’m ready to ride more rides!”

Shuichi smiles at that. He doesn’t want the leader to push himself too hard. He’s experienced Kokichi completely shutting down because of a lack of sleep. Shuichi has struggled with insomnia too, but Kokichi isn’t able to sleep in like he can. The other normally wakes up early regardless of when he goes to sleep.

“Let me know if you get tired Shumai! I wouldn’t want my beloved to lie just for my sake. I hate liars, you know.”

Shuichi nods, “I’m alright for now. I think we can stay a little bit longer.”

Himiko then speaks up, “Hey. We’re going to watch Mickey’s Magic Show. Do you wanna come with us?”

“Sounds like fun!” Kokichi grips his hand, racing ahead of the other two. Tenko seems to take that as a personal challenge, so she lifts Himiko for a piggy-back ride and chases them.

 --

 Himiko pulls a blanket out of her backpack once they get into the waiting room for the show; none of them are sure why or when she brought it but the air-conditioned room is pretty cold and the air outside is beginning to cool down because of the season. At least it stopped raining.

“It’s a cape, because I’m a mage,” she says, but the fleecy crescent moons and clouds on it say differently.

 --

 Shuichi and Kokichi had already decided they would ride Thunder Mountain next. Well, Kokichi decided, and Shuichi quickly agreed.

Tenko knows Himiko won’t want to ride anything that high up, so she suggests a less intense alternative. “We never got to ride Mine Train Himiko! Do you want to go before the park closes?” Tenko remembers that Himiko wanted to at least try riding Seven Dwarves’ Mine Train.

“Nyeh… but isn’t the wait still really long?”

“It might be, but we can check!”

“Okay. After Mine Train let’s leave right away. My feet hurt, and my MP is too low to cast a health recovery spell.”

Himiko and Tenko set out towards the ride.

And then there were two.

 --

 The line for Thunder Mountain Railroad isn’t unreasonably long, but it’s definitely not quiet either. 

Kokichi has his arms up the whole time, and even though Shuichi is gripping the safety bar for dear life during the sudden turns, his eyes are wide open, and there’s a rush of adrenaline going through him. It’s not an intense roller coaster by any means, but the wind on their faces and the loud crackle of the tracks makes it exciting. After, Kokichi pulls him by the hand towards Adventureland and Shuichi smiles the whole way there.

 --

 In the last few minutes before the park closes they make it back to Pirates of the Carribean again, for the last ride of the night. Now that it’s just the two of them, it feels somehow different from when they were in a group. 

“Shuichi, we need to talk.” The boat has begun to move along its track in the water, the false night sky of the ride seeming so realistic overhead.

Shuichi’s eyes widen. “Ah, what would you like to talk about?”

“Do you like me?”

Eyebrows raise, “of-of course.”

Kokichi rolls his eyes, “C’mon Shuichi. I know you’re not that dense.” He pauses. “What I mean is, how do you feel about me, as more than a friend?”

“O-oh,” Shuichi stammers, feeling his face preheating like an oven.

Kokichi leans forward expectantly. “So?”

“Um… I like you, Kokichi.” 

An involuntary smile appears on the leader’s face. “Good, me too.”

Shuichi smiles back.

“So let’s make it official.” Kokichi says, looking ahead instead of into Shuichi’s eyes as he laces their fingers together.

“I’d like that.” Shuichi smiles lovingly as he leans over to press his lips to Kokichi’s cheek.

Even though it’s a little dark in the ride, Shuichi can still see Kokichi’s blush. It’s really cute, he notices, but then Kokichi’s facing him again, and he sees a searching look in those purple eyes that’s even more cute. Shuichi nods, and Kokichi takes the opportunity to grab onto Shuichi’s shirt and pull him closer until their lips meet.

It’s nothing crazy, just a soft press of lips against one another with that yo-ho pirate song echoing in the background, but it makes the two of them feel really warm and giddy. The seriousness of the moment is stopped quickly, since Kokichi can’t help himself from grinning. It sort of stops the kiss, but he can’t help it; he’s suddenly so full of energy, and he just can’t stop smiling. Shuichi opens his eyes and seeing Kokichi makes him smile too. It’s like their cheeks are stuck like that, but neither of them really mind.

As they’re getting off of the ride, Shuichi speaks up, a million little thoughts going through his head, “maybe we shouldn’t say anything to the others yet.”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of me?” Crocodile tears well up in his eyes.

Shuichi shakes his head. “No, I just think that Tenko would be less willing to share a room with us if she knew we are together.”

“Nee-heehee, so devious Shuichi. I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Maybe…”

 --

  (They don’t make it back to the hotel until midnight because of the long bus wait. Himiko texted them to warn them, but by the time they get there the line is already long and they have to wait for two buses to depart before finally getting on the third one. But, as they sit down in the seats and Kokichi falls asleep leaning against Shuichi’s shoulder, he finds that he doesn’t mind too much.)

I also posted this on my Ao3 Account