#sometimes it's so hot where the bathroom looks like a damn sauna

[dove-da-birb]

20, 21, and 29 for the ask game? :)

20; do you say pop or soda?

POP no acceptions

21; what's something you've had since childhood?

I have a few things; my crib & rocking horse which my Papa (grandfather) carved for me, my giant Nemo plush, a stuffed bear in an autumn outfit, and some other things.

29; how do you like your shower water?

At first I like it hot, since I carry a lot of tension in my shoulders and neck and the hot water helps with it, but I switch to something still hot but less intense about halfway through (usually when I condition my hair and do the second step in my skincare).

In short; HOT SHOWERS

[callsignbaphomet]

Warm & Cozy Asks

Loke (Oracle version)

Do they get cold easily?

Nope. Just puts on a hoodie and he's out the door.

How do they warm up when cold?

If he thinks it's gonna get freakishly cold he bundles up as much as he can. Will drink his weight in coffee.

Do they wear jumpers (sweaters)? If so do they fit perfectly or are they baggy?

Absolutely not. He's more of a hoodies type of person.

Do they have a favourite hot drink? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Hot cider? If so, how do they take it?

Yeah, coffee. Black, two sugars, and cream. Loves hot chocolate. He didn't drink tea until he met Uthorim and he started to actually drink it. He prefers if the tea is sweetened. Even then it's a once in a while thing. If he could he'd shot coffee directly into his veins lol.

It's cold and wet outside, your OC has just come in the front door. What do they do to get warm?

Steaming hot shower. Like hot enough to turn the damn bathroom into a sauna kind of hot. This is assuming he's in his own apartment or any of his friends's or family. If not he'll just grin and put up with it till he can shower.

What's your OC's idea of a cozy night in?

Him and Uthorim snuggling up to each other on the sofa, snacks at the ready, Lyn (Loke's GSD) curled up next to them and watching a movie.

Does your OC have a particular trick to get them asleep at night?

Just puts his head on the pillow. That's it. The second he says he's going to sleep it's done, he's going to sleep.

Does your OC wear pyjamas to bed? Do they have a favourite set?

Just a t-shirt. That's it. Just a t-shirt. An old worn out Hellfest shirt he got when he, Jelani, Trevor, Angelus, Abigail, Ginger, Varg, Thor and some others went a few years ago. It has a small patched up hole where he got shot. Woohoo, 13 weeks with a shattered collarbone.

What side of the bed does your OC sleep on? Why is that?

He doesn't care, he'll sleep in whatever side he can get.

Does your OC nap easily?

More than a lazy ol' Basset Hound.

Does your OC enjoy a cuddle?

Yes! He loves to cuddle! He'll cuddle up to anyone willing to let him. Especially when he's sick. Extra especially if he's feeling some type of way, when he's like that he cuddles up a lot to the person he wants to fuck/get fucked by.

Does your OC enjoy a particular gesture of affection? Does it calm them?

Cuddling is one. Hugging will melt him. His very favorite is kissing though. He could be absolutely devastated, pissed the fuck off or scared out of his mind but if Uthorim gently grabs him and kisses him that guarantees he'll calm down.

There's another gesture but it's one shared by him and Jelani. They've been doing it since for-fucking-ever. If Loke or Jelani are feeling off, either depressed or scared or sometimes angry being reason they'll grab onto each other's shirt, jacket or sleeve. They don't even have to say anything to each other, they'll just know something's off and without words or even looking at each other the other will grab the other one's hand until the one grabbing on is ready to talk.

What makes your OC feel safe and secure?

Glossing over the separation anxiety he has that's only comforted and at ease as long as Jelani is close by and feels safe with him around or at the very least being able to talk to him (phone or chat). Hugs actually make him feel safe and secure. Hell, Uthorim's presence alone makes him feel at ease, comfy and secure.

What are some of your OC's comfort foods?

Grilled cheese sandwich or sweets and candy.

How much does your OC wrap up when they go outside? Hat, scarf, gloves and multi-layers or is the cold anything to them?

If we're talking freakishly cold temperatures he'll use scarves, gloves and heavy coats.

How light of a sleeper is your OC?

He's not. At all. He has 10 alarms and he won't hear the first 5 alarms. A grenade could go off in his room and he won't hear that. You literally have to shake him awake.

Can they fall asleep anywhere? Or are do they need an optimum condition to sleep in?

Loke can and will sleep anywhere and through anything. When that guy says he's going to sleep he means that shit. Weather, situation, place--doesn't matter, he's going to sleep.

What does a lazy morning consist of?

Bold of you to assume he gets up in the morning. Unless he has to he ain't waking up any earlier than 12:30. Mornings? lol no. But if he has to get up in the morning he moves at a snail's pace to get out of the bed, brushes teeth and showers, drinks coffee, gets dressed, makes breakfast for him and Uthorim or anyone else that came over in the morning, gets his pets their meals, eats breakfast and drinks more coffee, takes the dog out, comes back and drinks more coffee and then heads out to do whatever he has to do while internally cussing out society for functioning before 1:00 pm.

Does your OC prefer early nights or late mornings?

Late morning and by late mornings I mean early afternoon.

Do they hog the blankets?

No. He doesn't move around much when sleeping. In fact, he tends to scare people. Anyone that's shared a bed with him tends to freak out 'cause he barely moves, doesn't make a sound and is such a heavy sleeper that nothing wakes him up unless you shake him. Once he goes to sleep he cuddles up to whoever he's sleeping with and kinda doesn't really move much after that.

Does your OC have a favourite pillow? A favourite duvet set? A favourite cuddling toy? Blanket?

There's a sable fox stuffie his grandparents got him some years ago and Angelus and Ginger put a calming enchantment on it. If he's not feeling right he'll hold on to it and cuddle it. Enchantment activates with a squeeze and lasts for a while.

How would they solve the one bed and two people scenario? Could they share a bed?

IF the other person says they don't mind sharing a bed he'll share. If the other person isn't comfortable or is sick or injured he'll be okay with sleeping on a chair or sofa, hell, even the floor as long as he has a pillow. Most often though he'll offer the other person the bed.

Does your character have a favourite place to chill?

His brother's apartment. To be fair that's sorta where everyone kinda meets up but yeah, he likes to hang out with him there.

Where does your OC sit of there's not enough chairs at a gathering?

He'll take the floor, he doesn't really care. Or Uthorim's lap.

What's something your OC does to wind down after a long day?

Depends on how tired he is. If he's not too tired he'll shower and if he has nothing else he needs to do he'll spend a few hours playing video games. If he's too tired and Uthorim isn't home yet he'll shower and lay down on the sofa flipping between Twitch and YouTube. If Uthorim's home he'll shower, find his husband and cuddle up to him for as long as Uthorim can stand it.

Is your OC the one who receives the jacket or gives the jacket in their relationship?

Gives the jacket but let's be real Uthorim also gives the jacket even though Loke is super at ease with the cold. Both are caregivers so they tend to cancel each other out but Loke is gonna keep insisting if he sees Uthorim is cold. Please, the man was born and bred in a subarctic part of Norway. He didn't know what heat was until he was nearing his 50s.

Does your OC get any winter illnesses? If so, how badly do they get ill?

Not really, berserkers can get sick but he's mostly accompanied by non-humans who can't actually get sick and the few humans and other non-humans that can get sick all get vaccinated as well as him. But when he does get sick he gets hit with whatever is ailing him pretty hard.

Your OC has the sniffles. How do they handle it?

Anything that compromises the lungs will royally fuck him up because of the asthma. He doesn't handle fevers well, they fuck him up as well to the point of not being able to keep any solids down at all. He's super on point with meds and drinks twice as much water and get very, very needy.

Your OC has a sick day off. How do they spend it?

In bed. He doesn't go anywhere unless it's an emergency or to grab more snacks if he doesn't have a fever. He'll spend the entire day watching movies and sleeping.

Does your OC play with the thermostat/heating constantly or are they rigid about it's use?

Depends on the weather/season. If it's winter and really cold he'll keep it comfortably warm but not too hot. If it's 80 or above outside that thermostat is staying between 66 and 70 and gods help you if you dare to touch that thermostat.

[nebris]

There’s Nothing Effortless About Being a Woman

And I’m done pretending otherwise.

 Twice a year I have a ritual. I go up to Thirty-Second Street in Manhattan’s Koreatown and head into an anonymous building where I am greeted by a tiny, beautiful Russian woman who leads me to a stack of mesh disposable undies, the likes of which I hadn’t seen since slipping on some of those bad boys in the maternity ward after giving birth. No loaf-sized pad to layer in, though, or mewling baby to squish onto a nipple. No, these days, in my sheer (what is the point) water-repellent undies, I am directed into an igloo-shaped hot dry sauna, then a hot tub full of lemons, then a cold tub full of cucumbers, then a hot wet sauna.  

           The spa is not so much relaxing as it is a march of boobs-out, crotch-masked efficiency. Everything around me is busy. Small Asian women bustle about, directing customers here and there, guiding dripping, naked bodies to and fro. After emerging, dripping sweat, from the steam room, I am led by the elbow to my penultimate destination, a vinyl-topped massage table that recalls a combo of your great-aunt’s plastic-covered floral love seat and Hannibal Lecter’s dissection room. Here, my clinician instructs me to remove the mesh and lay down on my belly on the slippery plastic.  

           I am naked, ass-side up on the plastic-coated table, when she starts tossing buckets of hot water on me from an industrial-size drum. There’s a pause as she straps on her tools of the trade: sandpapery gloves with which she will scour every inch of my body, including within my butt crack and under my boobs and in between my toes. The whole thing takes an hour; I will shed at least three pounds worth of dead skin, endure countless buckets of hot water, and be manipulated this way and that on the plastic butcher block. This is BEFORE I get passed off to a sadist dressed as a facialist to extract six months’ worth of goo from the pores on my nose and chin and get layered up in algae and kelp—I pay extra for that—and scolded for letting my face absorb so much filth.    

           This is just the beginning. This is so I can then go to the multitude of beauty stores on Thirty-Second Street and literally buy snail smegma to smear on my face every night, after washing my face twice with two different kinds of rice oils, toning, then adding some sort of ginseng brightening serum, then slapping on a collagen cream.    

           Right now, my bathroom shelves include the following:    

Oil cleansers  

Face oils

Moisturizing body oils

Anti-cellulite oils

De-oiling mattifiers for all the oils I’ve added on

My fucking RETAINERS, to hold in place the work done when I got ADULT BRACES, to “fix” my smile

Teeth whiteners, which I use with frightening regularity (seriously, there’s a schedule that aligns with my birthday and the holidays)

Seventy-three thousand millionty bazillion NEUTRAL lipsticks and glosses, because the point of slathering chemicals on your face is to look NATURAL

An equal number of “barely there” blushes and bronzers

Concealers for the scars that I sometimes like to show when the rest of my skin is flawless but that I like toc over up when it’s not (my level of imperfection is closely calibrated)

           Why? The key is to be only imperfect enough to be charming, so that I can say, “Oh, I don’t really wear makeup. I’m pretty low maintenance.” So I can be the kind of lady that is effortless.    

           In 2018, when Google did that brilliant data-mining scam and asked us all to upload our personal information and FACES to the damn internet to find ourselves in their global database of portraiture (liars; I was matched with some French lady because obviously Asians don’t make art), I posted a #makeupless selfie on Instagram with my art match and felt smug about that photo for days. Because #nofilter, my skin looked fucking great. Just enough freckles and my bright scar, so people knew I was being authentic and I looked real, but glowy and smooth and lovely, like the kind of lady who has an IV of collagen and turmeric juice. I looked effortless.    

           Why the cloak-and-dagger routine? Why not say, Hey, this shit is hard? Nobody actually has perfectly groomed eyebrows. If you don’t have enough, you fill them in. Pencil? Brushes? How many shades do you use? Maybe you microblade, even, to save yourself the time every morning of filling them in. You literally slice pigment into your face WITH SHARP METAL OBJECTS to SAVE YOURSELF BEAUTY TIME. If you have too much eyebrow, you wax and you pluck and you thread and you groom the remaining brow with pomade and comb it with tiny little eye-brow brushes. If you have just enough—wait, are they the right shape? Right angle? Right shade? Did you know you can dye your eyebrows? If your eyes are the windows to your soul, the eyebrows are—well, goddamn if I know. But it’s boring to talk about this stuff. Right? Like, smart women aren’t supposed to care.  

           But I do.    

           I was never the Pretty One in my family. I was not light skinned, or petite, or doe eyed enough. My sister was the Pretty One, and also the Straight-A Smart One. I was the Fun One, and the Popular One, and the Smart One Whose Parents Still Worried About Her Because She Had Rebellious Tendencies.    

           Those tendencies were programmed at an early age. I am not Gen X, I am not a millennial, but I am part of the female American microgeneration that grew up on Sassy magazine, riot grrrls, Courtney Love’s band Hole, Claire Danes in My So-Called Life, and every other cultural touchstone that dictated that you must be grungily and rebelliously imperfect and maybe even a little bit outcast, but only in just such a way that actually made you cool.    

           Early on, it was very clear to me there was a Right Way to have a perfectly messy ponytail or slightly disheveled T-shirt or a lean, loungy body. Somewhere in the very narrowly defined gray area between outcast and edgy, nonchalant and within the accepted standards of beauty, was the effortlessness I so wanted to achieve.    

           But to be effortless, you couldn’t talk about it. It’s not that all effort was uncool. It was cool to play sports and go to practice every day. It was cool to be a musician and need to rehearse. It was cool to be a pretty, thin girl who could hang and take big, messy bites of burger. It was NOT cool to tell people that in order to maintain your weight you only ate lettuce and Laughing Cow cheese squares and that to throw your hair up in a cute ponytail actually required twenty minutes of teasing at the crown. Feminism Lite (my preferred brand of feminism as an adolescent) required keeping your damn mouth shut about the desire to be something as superficial as pretty, so I did. Being pretty had to be something you just were, not something that you tried to achieve, and if I wasn’t it, I had to be quiet about wanting it and what I did to get it.    

           I am also Korean American. I grew up living in a vale of silence and not some small amount of shame. That is, I was primed to take up the mantle of silent effort in the pursuit of effortlessness.    

           In my eighties childhood, in the verrrry white Midwest, my parents owned a convenience store within Oasis Mobile Home Park, a massive trailer park in a then-industrial suburb that felt a million miles from the fancy suburb we lived in. They made an excellent living as small-business owners, but as an engineer and a nurse by training (immigration does things to a person’s job prospects), they were ashamed of their jobs among the doctors and lawyers and executives in our community. We ate kimchi and broiled fish every day, but we never unleashed the smell in front of white people, because, you know, foreign. My parents occasionally struggled with English but insisted that their children’s was perfect.    

           I absorbed it all: the need to succeed and the internalized judgment of how we did so; the love of who we were and the not-wanting-to-be-weird-in-front-of-white-people; the need for the linguistic cues of my Americanness to appear effortless, to show that it was natural to me, even though English was my second language. Internalized white supremacy is a real trip, lemme tell you.  

           So here we are. I am basically programmed to be wildly, savagely proud, and also always a little bit ashamed. I am groomed to always cultivate the appearance that I belong here, that I am beautiful, and that this is how I was born to be. That this is all effortless.    

           I AM LIVING A LIE AND I AM SO TIRED.    

           Because, of course, I am relaxed about literally nothing. I am effortful about everything, and it extends far, far beyond trying to be pretty. Wait—I was relaxed about potty training my kids, maybe? No, my husband and I were just too overwhelmed with having two kids under three years old that we essentially forgot to potty train, and they did it themselves. The truth is, we were drowning. If you are nearly killing yourself with effort in other arenas, turns out, not putting forth any effort and somehow getting a good result can turn into actual #effortlessness! But oh, the temptation TO LIE! To blithely say to other parents, “Don’t worry so much about potty training! It’ll happen when it happens. We hardly had to do anything and it was so easy!”    

           The things I could do if I weren’t carrying around the mental burden of the need-to-find-the-perfect-blend-of-sheer-lip-plumper-slash-gloss-and-maybe-it-would-make-me-feel-better-about-my-mommy-pooch-which-makes-me-feel-weirdly-regretful-about-my-C-section-because-maybe-my-pooch-would-be-smaller-if-I’d-had-vaginal-births-but-we’ll-never-know-but-thanks-for-the-lifelong-question-that-I’m-too-embarrassed-to-talk-about-because-women-are-only-supposed-to-be-grateful-for-healthy-babies-and-a-feminist-shouldn’t-care-so-much-about-a-round-belly! The sheer SPACE I could clear in my brain! The loneliness I could let go of!  

           The mental gymnastics—Jesus. What a waste of goddamn effort. How much more useful, how much more joyful, how much easier to actually be truthful, to celebrate our efforts, to create communities around our desires and not fucking live with the shame that the desire for effortlessness brings, for women, and for immigrants, and for people of color who may never fit into a white, Westernized standard of beauty. Maybe all the effort that goes into being effortless could be used, I don’t know, in loving ourselves and loving each other better. How transformative being honest could be.    

           The lie doesn’t just exhaust me; it hurts us all. When we lie about the basic values of our culture (that women must be beautiful) and yet do everything in our power to adhere to that value (we kill ourselves to make ourselves beautiful) and lie about the labor women must put into adhering to the unspoken value of our culture (we have to be effortless), we ensure that nothing will ever change. We can’t change our culture when we lie about what the culture is. We can’t accept ourselves until we stop pretending that we already do. And we can’t value our work until we acknowledge that this is work—this, THIS (please imagine me gesturing expansively at the world)—that existing in a body as a woman in this world is work.    

           Nothing is effortless.    

Amy S Choi is the co-founder and editorial director of The Mash-Up Americans, a publisher and creative studio that amplifies marginalized voices and celebrates life across cultures. She is a longtime journalist and editor based in Brooklyn, where she lives with her husband and two kids. She specializes in getting people to tell stories they never expected to share, and, lately, SHOUTYCAPS.

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/there-s-nothing-effortless-about-being-a-woman

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Seeing Their Crush Half Dressed

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong was lost for sure. He didn't understand why. As an idol, he should remember his way backstage where they hold the Music Bank performances.

"Fuck......where is it?"

He scratched the back of his head, trying to remember where Ateez' waiting room was. He kept walking until he finally reached a door that he felt was familiar. Without thinking too much he opened it and widened his eyes. It definitely wasn't his waiting room. It was your group's waiting room and you were currently in the process of putting on your stage outfit. You both just stood there, too stunned to say anything.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry Y/N-shii! I was looking for my dressing room!" He finally found his voice.

You simply chuckled and quickly threw on your shirt.

"Stop the formality, we're friends you know. I'm glad it was you and not someone else who bursted in."

Hongjoong let out an awkward laugh before saying sorry again and closing the door. Once alone, he face palmed himself and dragged it down his face.

"Hongjoong you stupid idiot!"

Park Seonghwa:

Seonghwa just wanted to watch his currently favorite drama that he was hooked on. Except the 99 liners decided to hog up the tv and he was mad. Then he remembered you lived right next door. Why not just go over and watch it with you? It gives him time to spend time with you as well. Win win situation if you asked him.

He texted you and you of course told him to just walk in. You underestimated how long he'd take though, and he came faster than you thought. So when he walked into your living room, you were still in your workout attire, and it wasn't exactly much either.

"I brought you the gummy bears you-"

Seonghwa sucked in a breath when he saw what you were wearing, his mouth dropping as he stared at your body.

"What?" You asked as you took in his reaction.

He simply pointed to your clothes.

"I was exercising. Geez no need to make a big deal out of it." You rolled your eyes.

Seonghwa snapped back.

"Oh no! Don't take it the wrong way! It's just.... your body...."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "What about it?"

"It's just.........Wow! Amazing!" He giggled.

Jeong Yunho:

It was Yunho's day off and he decided to spend it at a sauna to relax after working for long hours. Mingi decided to join him as usual. It was all fun between them, just laughing and joking amongst themselves. Mingi was definitely teasing him about his crush on you, which Yunho could only blush at his comments.

After a bit, they decided it was time to leave. Yunho walked out of the sauna room first, Mingi staying for just another minute. Upon walking out, the door to the sauna room next to his opened as well and you walked out.

"Yunho?" You asked, surprised to see him there.

"Y-Y/N?"

He was shook to find you there, and even more since you were wearing nothing, only towel draped over your body to cover you. He felt his face getting hot and then he remembered that he himself only had a towel tied around his waist.

"So nice seeing you here. Maybe I'll see you some other time." You smiled and waved goodbye to him.

Yunho chuckled nervously and waved to you, not knowing what to say. Right at that moment, Mingi came out and took in Yunho's state.

"What's with you? You're acting stupid. Like the kind of stupid you get around Y/N, but 5 times worse"

Kang Yeosang:

You often spent time at Ateez' dorm cause of Wooyoung, he became your friend and he loved having you over, partly because he enjoyed your company and partly cause he knew of Yeosang's crush on you. So of course, he liked torturing the poor boy by making him flustered by your presence.

On a particular day, you accidentally spilled your drink on your shirt and Wooyoung offered you one of his shirts, and left you in his room to change. Except Yeosang didn't know about this, and it was his room too. So he went looking for something and found you topless.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!"

He didn't wait to see your reaction. He just covered his face and slammed the door behind him, too shocked to say anything. He ran into the living room, where Wooyoung was and judging from his friend's face, he could guess what happened. Wooyoung started laughing at him.

"Warn a guy you imbecile!" Yeosang threw a cushion at him and made his way to the kitchen.

Once alone though, he replayed your image in his head and giggled softly. He's not totally regretting it.

Choi San:

By no means was this an accident, coincidence or simple unfortunate circumstance. Nope. San knew what he was doing and he was not regretting any second of it. He simply saw the opportunity and decided to take it.

The boys were spending time at your place. You were all planning on watching movies the entire night. Sometime during one of the movies, you got up and decided to change into something more comfy. That's when the light bulb switched in San's brain.

"I'm going to the bathroom." He announced, not that anyone was paying attention.

Instead of the bathroom though, he curbed his way to your bedroom door before smirking to himself. Putting on an innocent expression, he opened your door and walked in on you in just your underwear.

"Choi San!" You exclaimed as you covered yourself.

"I thought you were done!" He said while faking a shocked look.

"Get out!" You yelled as you threw the nearest article of clothing to him, which he dodged.

"Ok ok!"

He closed the door and walked back into the living room, a tiny smirk on his lips.

"You're a perv." Seonghwa told him.

Song Mingi:

This day could not get worse for Mingi. First he woke up late for practice, then he kept messing up at said practice, which resulted in him having to stay extra time at the studio to make up for his mistakes. And now he's lived one of the biggest embarrassments of his life.

It wasn't your fault. He didn't know your plumbing was being fixed and San offered to let you shower in their bathroom. He also forgot to mention that to Mingi when he came home. So naturally when he walked into the bathroom, he was not expecting to see a half naked you in front of him.

"Aaaah!"

You both yelled. Mingi slammed the door closed and ran back to where San was, who upon hearing the commotion, realized he messed up.

"Ooops. Forgot to tell you about-"

"Yeah I noticed." Mingi cut him off.

Mingi sighed and slumped his tall body next to San, feeling so embarrassed.

"How am I ever going to be able to look at them in the face after I saw them half naked?"

San patted his friend's back. "Come on, it's not so bad..... I've seen them completely naked and I can still look at them."

Mingi whipped his head up at San's confession. "You what?!"

Jung Wooyoung:

Feeling bored and wanting to go out, the boys dragged you to the mall with them. They were so excited to get out and enjoy the world, not to mention they all wanted to buy things for themselves. So there you were, watching them all try on clothes and endlessly asking you for your fashion input.

Hongjoong couldn't stand to see you sitting there though. He picked out a few things for you to try on as well, secretly hoping you'd get them so he could customize them for you. So you went inside one of the dressing rooms to try them on. Wooyoung had been looking for his jacket though, which he misplaced.

"Maybe you left it in one of the dressing rooms." Mingi suggested to him.

Wooyoung thought that everybody was done trying on clothes though. That's why he didn't know you were currently in the one he just casually walked into.

"Holy Jesus!" Wooyoung screeched when he saw you half naked.

"Haven't you heard of knocking?!" You yelled as you pushed him out and slammed the door.

Wooyoung walked back to where Mingi was.

"What happened?" Mingi asked, noticing how awkward Wooyoung looked.

Wooyoung looked at the taller male and smiled. "Nothing that I regret."

Choi Jongho:

You were planning a trip to the beach with your family. You were so excited to see them after so long, and even more to see your favorite cousin, whom you were currently texting. Both of you were swimsuit shopping and trying to get each other's opinion on what to get and what looked better on you both.

Unfortunately for you, you weren't really paying attention when you sent a picture of yourself in a very revealing swimsuit to Jongho instead of your cousin.

Y/N: So what do you think? Do you like it?

Jongho dropped his phone when he saw your text, fanning his face that was getting hotter by the second.

Jongho: I mean..... I do?

You screamed when you realized your mistake.

Y/N: Oh my God! Jongho I'm so sorry! I was trying to send that to my cousin! :(

Jongho: It's ok. Don't worry :)

Out of respect for you, he quickly deleted the picture, only thing left was the memory of your body now engraved in his mind.

"Damn are they hot though." He said to himself.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[jemmahazelnut]

A roommate obsessed with tidiness

Summary: Laxus is looking for an apartment and finds the ideal place with the ideal roommate (as well as the boyfriend of his dreams). Too bad he's engaged. [Freed/Laxus]

Links: AO3 - Fanfiction

I tried to write something a little longer about these two lovely guys. Hope you like it :) As always, sorry for my English, I try to do my best.

P.S. There are references to sex, but nothing explicit.

A roommate obsessed with tidiness

-1-

It had been Bickslow who had told him that a friend of his was looking for a roommate to cover the bills, and since Laxus really needed an apartment, he had agreed. He had struggled enough to find a place to stay, a little for bad luck and a little for his character. The first time he had fought heavily with his roommates, so after a while he was gone. The second apartment he had been in had turned out to be a disaster: the lift didn’t work, the boiler had continuous problems and the washing machine was broken. It was actually his fault, such a low price should have alerted him.

So, he hoped that at least that third try would go well. From what Bickslow had told him, Freed was a quiet guy, they would get along well and the apartment in the photos didn't look like a mess. Despite this, Laxus was by no means positive, not after his first experiences.

He rang the bell and after a while a short woman with long blond hair came to open the door. If Laxus hadn't known that she was the homeowner, he would have mistaken her for a girl his age, if not younger.

“Hi, you must be Laxus, right?” she asked with a gentle smile. The blond nodded as the woman introduced herself. Her name was Mavis and as she led him into the building, she began chatting quietly asking him what he was doing. Laxus explained that he was a college student, second year of engineering, and was surprised at how easy it was to talk to that woman. She immediately took him to the second floor apartment to show him, and as soon as Laxus entered he was quite relieved. He looked really good, and the fact that he was tidy proved that his roommate had to be a nice guy. Unless he just did it that day.

He entered directly into a small sitting room, with a sofa in the center and a small table in front. On the front wall there was a television and some shelves. The style was modern, simple and clean. Mavis guided him to the various rooms showing him everything there and his bedroom. It was small, but Laxus was just fine. The price seemed adequate and he really liked the apartment. Despite that, he already knew it was all too good to be true, surely something bad was going to happen, and now Laxus really wanted to get to know this roommate and make sure for himself that he wasn't a freak. Although, to tell the truth, he probably would have accepted the same. He didn't really want to look for another apartment.

“The other tenant?” he then asked.

“He should be here in a moment, in the meantime we can discuss the last things” the woman told him. Laxus nodded and followed her into her living room, but just then they heard the house keys turn. “It must be him” Mavis said. In fact, shortly after the door opened and a boy with long green hair entered. Quite a handsome guy, to be honest. Laxus was honest with himself, that, at least physically, would have been his ideal type. He smiled at them and immediately introduced himself.

“Hi Mavis. Hi, I'm Freed” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Laxus” the blond introduced himself immediately. He gave it a quick look. Except for his hair so green it looked straight out of a manga, he looked like a normal guy. He must have just returned from university, because he had a computer on hand and some books in a bag. He set them aside and walked over to them, offering to make coffee for everyone, while Mavis and Laxus sat on the sofa and discussed the latest things. Laxus was more and more convinced that he wanted to accept the position, not that he had much of a choice.

When Freed returned to the living room with three coffee mugs and a small tray of pastries, Laxus almost thought that was too good to be true. He couldn’t believe he had finally found a decent apartment, with practically the boy of his dreams of him sitting on the other side of the sofa. A guy who also seemed kind. There was certainly a deception.

-2-

The deception was obviously there, but it was nothing so serious. After two weeks living under the same roof, Laxus had found out more about his roommate. Meanwhile, that he was engaged, with a bit of disappointment for the blond who, however, immediately pushed the thought out of his mind. Luckily Freed was very discreet, and those few times his boyfriend stopped to sleep didn't make a mess.

Then, he discovered that Freed had a real fixation for cleanliness. Which shouldn't have been a downside, but when he moved Laxus' things the blonde couldn't help but get annoyed. Laxus was not untidy, he just put the keys on the cabinet in the hall, and promptly Freed moved them on the shelf to the left. What difference it made, Laxus didn't know. Or, he couldn't even place a sweatshirt on the sofa for a moment, which Freed took it and hung it on the coat hanger. And he did that for every little thing, and if Laxus hadn't said anything at first, now he was starting to get on his nerves.

Another vice of Freed was that no matter how tidy he was and how much he always cleaned everything, that didn't apply to the moka pot. No, that was always in the sink, and Laxus always had to wash it before using it. Quite annoying, especially in the morning when he was in a hurry. Another thing that bothered him was that every time Freed came out of the bathroom after taking a shower, he felt like entering a sauna. Laxus wasn't kidding at all, he didn't understand what the hell he was doing in the bathroom for so long, it was probably because of his long hair that he took hours.

And that had happened that day too. Freed had just come out of the bathroom, his damp hair pulled back into a high ponytail leaving a cloud of steam inside him. Laxus stared at the completely fogged mirror and then walked out, turning to his roommate.

“What are you doing in there, the sauna?” he asked. Freed turned in surprise to him.

“I like to take a hot shower” he replied with a shrug. Laxus snorted.

“Well, you could at least open the window when you finish” he pointed out. Freed nodded absently and leaned over to the sofa, where Laxus had momentarily placed his sweatshirt. That boy really had a fixation. “Can you leave it there and stop moving my things around?” he blurted out nervously. Freed immediately pulled his arm back and snorted lightly.

“I can't stand the mess” he said frowning. “There’s a coat rack if you hadn't noticed it. It's right there” he added pointing it out.

“Fuck, I just put it down, two minutes and I'll take it” Laxus objected.

“No, you didn't just put it down” Freed retorted. “It's been here since before I went into the bathroom, so it's been here for at least twenty minutes” he pointed out. “And this is not only true for the sweatshirt, but also for the glasses you leave in the sink, what does it cost you to wash them? I always have to do it myself” he asked.

“Nobody tells you to do it, maybe if I leave them there, there is a reason. You know, I get thirsty several times a day, I don't wash a glass every five minutes”.

“Then take it to your room and don't leave it in the kitchen” Freed snapped. Okay, Laxus hadn't expected that from a single comment Freed would start throwing everything at him. Well, sometimes he forgot to put things in the dishwasher, but it's not like he was creating chaos around. It was just a damn glass.

“Well, you always leave the moka pot in the sink” he pointed out, just to have something to throw at him too.

“Because it's morning and I'm tired. And anyway, it's the only thing I mess up. It doesn't seem like a big thing to complain about” the roommate objected. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“You always move everything around and every time you come out of the bathroom it's... like this” he said, pointing to the small room still full of steam. Freed crossed his arms. “And you never open the window” the blond added.

“I just forgot today” Freed defended. It wasn't true, and Laxus was about to tell him, but the green-haired boy preceded him. “And you could still go and open the door when you order food? Every holy night I have to go, because you always have those damn headphones on” he told him. Well, Freed was right about that, Laxus couldn't say anything. And in any case, he didn't want to fight, Freed wasn't really bad as a roommate compared to the people he had found himself with the first time. He took a deep breath.

“Look, I don't want to fight. You're not bad as a roommate, I'll try to put the keys in their place, just… don't move my stuff” he told him trying to be more understanding. The last thing he wanted was to live with tension in that apartment. Freed seemed to calm down at that point.

“Okay” he agreed. “And I'll try to clean the moka pot in the morning” he muttered. Laxus smiled slightly, relieved that they hadn't made things worse.

“And the window in the bathroom” he reminded him as he entered the sauna. Freed rolled his eyes and Laxus heard him mutter something. He didn't answer him and shut himself in, starting to undress to get into the shower. Actually, he didn't think Freed was so bothered by the glasses he left in the sink. Well, even if Laxus thought it was bullshit, he would have forced himself to be more careful. But when he was in the shower and heard the doorbell ring, he remembered ordering the kebab.

“You have already broken the pact!” Freed yelled at him from outside.

Damn, Laxus thought. That timing really sucked.

-3-

The next evening Freed had offered to make him dinner, as he had noticed that the blonde almost always ordered take-out. So Laxus was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for it to be ready. The boy had told him that he would make him an Italian dish, Laxus just hoped he was capable of it, but since Freed spent a lot of time in the kitchen, he assumed he would.

“Where did you learn to cook Italian?” Laxus asked.

“I have relatives who moved there” the boy explained, draining the spaghetti and then throwing them back into the pot with the eggs and bacon and starting to mix. Laxus watched him curiously, until the roommate brought the pasta to the table and put a large portion on his plate.

“So, have you ever eaten carbonara?” Freed asked. Laxus nodded.

“Yes, I think. I don't know if it was like this, since I've never been to Italy” he said as he began to pick up the spaghetti. He had to admit, it was really good. Freed smiled.

“Well, this is the recipe my cousin gave me. When I go there she always makes me taste something new” he revealed.

“You’re lucky” Laxus commented. “Do you often go there?”. Freed began to tell him that he had gone more often when he was younger, usually it was his cousin who came to him. Laxus began to find out more about the boy, and told something about himself as well. They had never talked for so long. Not that they hated each other before, on the contrary, simply everyone had their own commitments and they had never found themselves alone for long. The argument suddenly ended in Bickslow, the friend they had in common.

“By the way, this Saturday we're going bowling. We are three, if you want to join us you’re welcome, so we make two teams” Freed told him. Laxus nodded, he had nothing else to do and maybe it would have been fun. So, he agreed and then started washing the pots and dishes, as Freed had cooked.

“Have you ever watched 'Fiore’s kingdom'?” Freed asked, getting up and starting to dry the pots.

“To tell you the truth no, it's that fantasy series that's going a lot right now, right?” he asked as he passed the sponge over the pot. Freed nodded.

“Yes, they do the first episode tonight. You can see it, if it inspires you” Freed said. Laxus nodded. Why not? Anyway, his alternative was to stay in the room listening to music on headphones until he fell asleep. So, after finishing cleaning, he moved to the living room and the two boys sat next to each other. Laxus put his feet comfortably on the coffee table as Freed fiddled with the remote. They chatted a little longer before the episode began, and then concentrated on TV.

Laxus immediately found himself immersed in the story, and even though Freed had already seen the first season, he didn't seem bothered to have to see it again. Indeed, according to him, he enjoyed watching the episodes several times to capture every detail. Neither of them knew yet, but that would become their routine in the next month.

-4-

Saturday night arrived and Laxus and Freed went to bowling together. When they got there, they already found Bickslow and a girl Laxus had never known. In any case, she didn't seem ready for a bowling night as she wore heeled ankle boots and an overly elegant blouse.

“Finally, guys, we've been waiting for you” Bickslow greeted them. The girl turned to Laxus and introduced herself.

“Evergreen, you’re Laxus, right?” she asked. The blond nodded. “So, what's it like to live with Freed? Is he still stressful and obsessed with tidiness?” she asked as she entered the room. Laxus smiled, then it wasn't just his impression. Freed rolled his eyes and sure he was ready to argue but Laxus anticipated him.

“Actually yes, I can't put anything anywhere even for two seconds that he curses me” he joked.

“I know the situation” Evergreen chuckled.

“You're just messy and you don't want to admit it, that's all” Freed objected.

“No Freed, if everyone says you're exaggerated, then you are” Evergreen pointed out. The boy didn’t reply because the four went to the counter to request a lane. When they got to theirs, they changed their shoes and looked around, on Saturday night the place was always full. If Bickslow hadn't booked they probably wouldn't have found a place.

“So, how do we split up?” Bickslow asked. Laxus shrugged, it was the same for him.

“It's enough for me not to be with Freed” Evergreen commented.

“Same” said the boy concerned.

“Well, then I'll be with Freed, while Laxus with Ever” Bickslow decided for everyone. So, the boys split up and began to take the balloons. “Oh Laxus, I forgot to tell you, we usually make those who lose the game pay for a drink” he warned him with a grin. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“You could have said that before you teamed me up with her”. He realized too late that it wasn't really something nice to say, and the girl immediately frowned at him.

“What do you have against me?”

“Nothing. Just... you came here in heels” Laxus muttered a little embarrassed, while Freed and Bickslow smiled in amusement.

“Yes, because I always have to be perfect. Don't underestimate me, and mind you, if we lose because of you, I'll make you weigh it” she said.

“Listen to her, she can be really competitive, that's why I hate being with her on the team” Freed told him.

“Why does she fuck you every time you make a pitiful figure?” he couldn't help but ask Laxus with an arrogant smile. Freed gave him a dirty look.

“You're underestimating too many people tonight” he commented. Laxus grinned.

“Okok, I'm not saying anything more” he said as a sign of peace. Anyway, he would find out everything soon.

Laxus had really misjudged Evergreen. Other than competitive, that girl didn’t accept losing and she was good too. Definitely a good bowling partner, they were giving the other two guys a hard time. The first three games had been won by Bickslow and Freed, but those last two were his and Evergreen’s. They were still at a disadvantage, but only by one, and ultimately the evening was fun. At the end of each game, they would order drinks and something to munch on and, Laxus had to admit to himself at least, it wasn't bad at all to see his roommate play. This was thanks to those jeans that wrapped around his backside, on which Laxus was now focusing his eyes on almost every shot of him. At the umpteenth strike Freed turned to him, with an amused and satisfied smile on his face.

“Tsk. I admit, you're not as mediocre as I thought” Laxus then told him, slightly amused. Yeah, because even though he was losing -and he hated losing- he was still in a good mood, maybe it was Freed's view, or maybe the fact that for the first time in a while he was having fun with other guys. He and Evergreen lost the game and went back to the counter to order more beers and two plates of chips.

“So, you were Freed's roommate too?” Laxus asked. The brunette nodded.

“For a while, I honestly don't know how you can handle it. He always took the make-up I left in the bathroom and hid them from me just to annoy me” she told him “He thought that this way I understood that I shouldn't leave them lying around, until I made him understand that he should no longer allow himself to touch my stuff even if we were friends” she explained. Laxus nodded.

“I understand. Well, considering the terrible roommates I've had before, he's not bad” the blond commented. Evergreen smiled.

“I think we all have stories to tell about roommates. Anyway, let's get Freed something heavy” he said, ordering a cocktail for his friend. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” It seemed to him that Freed wanted a beer. Evergreen smiled devilishly.

“Because if he drinks, he'll start to miss shots” she explained. Laxus laughed.

“You play dirty, I like you” he escaped and Evergreen chuckled. Then the two returned with everything they had ordered from the two boys, who were talking to each other.

“Ohhh, here are the losers!” Bickslow exclaimed theatrically.

“Not for long, Bix” Laxus said, handing the cocktail to Freed, who accepted it willingly with an amused smirk on his face. He strangely didn't ask any questions and the boys started the next game. They went on to play for a while, and with each round new glasses arrived. Time passed quickly and Laxus found that Evergreen was right, Freed's shots were getting worse and worse, and Laxus enjoyed seeing him tipsy. Freed was throwing the ball and as always Laxus's eyes were on him, on his arms on which he had rolled up his sleeves and on his backside. Damn, he was handsome. Honestly, if he hadn't been engaged and if he hadn't been his roommate, Laxus would have hit him. Freed completely missed the shot and the ball went out of the lane hitting no pins. The boy snorted and sat down next to the blond, who laughed loudly.

“Nice scene, really. How many pins have you hit? Because I still see them all there” he teased.

“Just because you made me drink” Freed objected. Laxus chuckled.

“You can't handle alcohol much, you only drank a few beers” he continued with a mocking vein.

“Actually, it's the third time Ever has brought me something weird, I don't even know what this stuff is” he said, taking the glass and observing the dark contents. Laxus laughed heartily and Freed turned surprised a little red in the face.

“Did you really go out with a few drinks?” he asked amused.

“Hey, you only had a few beers. Ever gave me this stuff” the boy said offended and Laxus smiled to see him like that.

“Let's say you can't accept defeat”.

“Actually, it turns out to me that we're ahead” Freed said.

“Not anymore” Evergreen trilled indicate the score on the scoreboard. Laxus looked up, actually the girl was right: they were even. He glanced at Freed, but he still seemed to be focusing on the writing. After a few seconds he snorted.

“You play against the rules” he said. Laxus patted him on the shoulder.

“Sure, in the meantime, go get something to drink. Try not to trip over your feet, even if it would be fun to see” he told him. Freed stood up giving him a dirty look, then walked with Bickslow towards the bar. Laxus stretched his legs out in front of him, stretching before hearing the girl laugh. He looked up confused.

“You missed the scene of Freed about to stumble on the steps” he told him. Laxus smiled and turned, but apparently the boy had already recovered, because he was walking towards the bar. He was sorry he missed the scene, but if he stared a little longer then one of the two friends would have suspected something. He had been glancing at him all the time, it was really time to stop it. “I think they're closing” muttered the brunette. Laxus only realized then that in fact they were practically the only ones left there. Shortly thereafter Freed and Bickslow returned empty-handed.

“The bar is closing. Do you want to play one last quick game in order to declare who is the overall winner or shall we get out of here?” Bickslow asked. Evergreen was about to answer, but Freed hit the coffee table and wobbled it with all the glasses on it. “Hey look out” the friend next to him warned him.

“You're really drunk” the brunette chuckled.

“I'm only slightly tipsy, and then it's your fault. How many drinks did you make me drink?” Freed complained running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe I exaggerated” laughed Evergreen, who on the contrary had only taken soft drinks after the first three laps, not wanting to have a hangover the next day.

“Well, I guess we'll have to stop the game here, or it risks rolling with the ball” Laxus said.

“I can go on” Freed replied immediately “And anyway we have to establish a winner, even if, considering that you played dirty, I can already say that we won”.

“Played dirty? We all drank” Evergreen said.

“No, you took fruit juices” Freed objected. Bickslow rolled her eyes and eventually a girl from the club came to warn them that they were closing, so they were forced out of there. They said goodbye and Laxus and Freed made their way to their apartment, which thankfully was not far from there on foot. Laxus threw an amused look at the roommate, who was more likeable when tipsy, since he chatted more than usual and was more relaxed. They arrived at the building and Freed threw himself into the elevator, while Laxus rolled his eyes.

“Are you really that lazy? It's just two flights of stairs” he said as he entered.

“Honestly I'm not sure I can do them without tipping over” he muttered, leaning his head against the wall.

“Yeah, Evergreen told me I missed the scene you tripped over” he chuckled.

“I've never tripped, I just got my foot badly for a moment” Freed immediately retorted.

“You mean you tripped” Laxus insisted.

“No, there's a big difference ... have you ever played 'The Elevator Game'?” he asked changing the subject completely. Laxus turned to him.

“Never heard of it” he replied.

“Of course? It's a fun game, Bickslow and I used to play it when we were kids. It’s more a ritual than a game, it allows you to reach the Otherworld with an elevator, as long as it reaches ten floors or more. Too bad this building is small or we could do it. You basically have to go to the fourth floor first, then the second, and then the seventh. Or maybe it was the sixth. No, maybe you have to start with the sixth and…” he said thoughtfully. Laxus stared at him amused and perplexed. The elevator had arrived.

“Maybe you can explain it to me tomorrow, huh?” he amused himself by stepping out and pushing Freed out with a hand on his shoulder. Freed got carried away with no problem continuing to mumble something about that game, or ritual, or whatever it was.

“Anyway, at a certain point you will meet a woman who will ask you where you are going and eventually you will reach the Otherworld. The point is that once you get there, it's very difficult to get back to reality” Freed finished as Laxus opened the door.

“Did you really do this shit as a kid?” he asked skeptically.

“Sure, I even had a Ouija board” Freed said and Laxus found himself laughing as he pushed Freed into the apartment.

“Seriously? I didn't really expect that from you” he commented as he closed the door behind him. “But now stop talking about these things and go to sleep” he told him. Freed turned to him with a soft smile on his face and placed a hand on his chest. Laxus tensed slightly and stared at him a little surprised, trying to ignore that closeness and the warmth of his hand.

“I like you, you know? You're a good roommate, even though I always complain” he told him. Laxus stared at him again in surprise, and for a moment he thought about how good those words sounded. He smiled trying to ignore that vague feeling of warmth that was starting to build inside him.

“I'll remind you tomorrow” he told him with a half laugh, trying to hide his embarrassment. Freed chuckled.

“No, don't do that” he told him and then took his hand away from his body, much to Laxus' chagrin, and walked away to his bedroom. As soon as he closed in, Laxus sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever he was feeling he had better stop.

-5-

Laxus and Freed had been living together for two months now and it was getting better and better. Freed had learned to open the window after taking a shower, and Laxus was trying not to mess with anything. Furthermore, watching the TV series on the sofa and having dinner together had become a habit. Quite a nice habit, to tell the truth. It was weird but Laxus liked Freed's company, he liked chatting stupid things with him and listening to weird rituals he had done as a child. He liked to discuss books and movies that they both liked. And he also discovered that they had the same tastes in music, they both listened to the same band. Freed would occasionally come up with some weird recipes and they would often hang out with Evergreen and Bickslow, either going bowling or having fun in other ways. It was really good.

Except for one small detail, Laxus didn't like Freed's boyfriend. The reason was actually pretty obvious, he just didn't like the fact that Freed had a boyfriend, even though he didn't come often. Usually, it was Freed who went to his house, and anyway they were always very respectful, besides a few giggles he didn't hear much. They didn't bother him in the least.

Except that evening. That night the two were wreaking havoc, and they were clearly fucking in the next room. Actually, Laxus was quite convinced that Freed didn't know he was there, since the blonde had told him that he would go to see a friend and that he would be back late. In the end, however, Mirajane had stood him up and Laxus had returned earlier than expected, and now that he was lying on the bed, he could hear almost everything. He was pretty sure that if he knocked on the wall the two would calm down, as they weren't usually that loud. But Laxus still hadn't.

Partly because he felt guilty, Freed had had to organize that evening with the boy taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't there and he thought they would finish shortly, partly because... because ok, imagining Freed doing certain things was quite intriguing. Sure, if he had been more honest with himself, he would have admitted that he would have preferred to be in that room, but he tried not to think too much about it. To tell the truth, it was also dangerous to imagine Freed in certain situations.

At that point, however, it was too late to think about it, because the two had finished having fun. Thankfully, so Laxus could stop imagining Freed's face, or his body, or his lips and, okay, Laxus just had to stop thinking about Freed and be done with it. He had a boyfriend, what the fuck.

He closed his eyes trying to think about the least sexy thing in the world when he heard a door slam. He frowned and opened his eyes again.

“Well, then I'm going home to sleep!” he heard screaming.

“Why do you have to do this?” Laxus heard Freed ask aloud.

“Maybe because you're an asshole”.

Okay, the last thing Laxus wanted to do was go about Freed’s business and see a fight. But if he left the room, he would admit he heard everything, and that was equally embarrassing. Fuck, that shouldn't have happened. He should have just been out of the house.

“You're misrepresenting all my words, why can't we have a quiet evening without fighting over some bullshit?” Freed snapped on the other side.

“Bullshit?” he yelled that. Laxus, however, only heard an incomprehensible mutter, because Freed must have lowered his voice. Better this way, he thought. After a while he heard the front door open and close, and then total nothing. Well, that must have been a shit night for Freed. Laxus didn't want to think about it anyway. He turned over in bed, now tired, and closed his eyes, after a while he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, Laxus found the moka pot on the stove and a note.

“The coffee is ready, you just have to turn it on. I'm sorry I bothered you last night, I didn't think you were home.

P.S. Your keys are hanging in the new wall key holder I bought”.

Laxus was quite surprised. So, Freed knew he was there, he must have noticed when he went into the living room and saw his keys on the usual cabinet where Laxus left them. He put a hand through his hair, understanding why the two boys had lowered their voices at one point. He lit up his coffee and sat down wearily at the table, just hoping that Freed wouldn't come up with the conversation anymore.

-6-

Fortunately, the speech never came out. Laxus hadn't asked for anything and Freed hadn't talked about it, things were exactly the same as before. The only thing that had changed was that Laxus no longer saw Freed's boyfriend around, every now and then he was tempted to ask him if they were still together, but it seemed really bad as a thing to do, so in the end he kept silent and kept his doubts for himself. And things were fine like that. Maybe he would get Bickslow to tell him later. Speaking of Bickslow, he had just written to him.

“Wait, do you play the guitar?” Laxus asked surprised opening the photo that his friend had just sent him. Freed looked up from the book he was reading. He had a puzzled expression and Laxus turned the phone towards him. The photo showed Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen when they were teenagers. Freed had the guitar in his hand, Evergreen the bass and Bickslow was on the drums. The boy's face turned red and Freed covered it with his hand.

“I'll have to kill Bickslow” he moaned. Laxus laughed and looked at the photo again. All three of them were younger. Evergreen had much frizzier hair, Bickslow had a faded blue crest, while Freed had hair down to just below the shoulders. And all three were dressed as if they were part of a punk band. Freed had a red leather jacket and a rock band shirt, Bickslow a studded jacket and Evergreen a bright green miniskirt.

“Were you really serious, did you want to start a punk band?” Laxus asked.

“Please, I don't want to think about that time” Freed mumbled embarrassed as he looked down at the book again. Laxus, however, had no intention of stopping there. He zoomed in on Freed's photo and chuckled.

“You even decorated your guitar” he noted.

“I said I don't want to talk about it” Freed snapped.

“Okay, then I'll ask Bickslow” Laxus said with a smirk. Freed at that sentence jerked his head up.

“No” he said right away. Laxus grinned.

“So can you tell me something about this?” he asked curiously. Freed rolled his eyes.

“Well, we wanted to form a band. We had also decided on the name, but… in the end luckily, we didn't do anything with it. Are you happy now?” he said shortly.

“Hey, I want to know more. Have you played around? Wrote your songs?” Laxus asked.

“Yes, we played around the streets. No, we haven't written any songs. We did covers, or at least… we tried” Freed said. “Now that's enough, I won't say a word more” he decided dryly.

“Come on, I'm curious to hear something. Sure you recorded your covers” Laxus insisted.

“Yes, but I eliminated them all” Freed said dryly. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“So, if I ask Bickslow he doesn't have them...”.

“Why do you care so much about it?” Laxus's phone vibrated and the blonde looked down at the message, as soon as he saw it his smile widened.

“He sent me an audio”.

“Oh God, no” Freed snapped and leaned over to grab his phone, but Laxus moved his arm faster. “Laxus, don't... I swear that if you start that audio, I'll make your life hell here” he threatened him. The blond chuckled.

“Why are you so upset? Relax” he said raising his arm so Freed couldn't get there. The boy was obviously annoyed by this, and Laxus was just happy with it. The phone vibrated again.

“What the hell is that jerk sending you again?” Freed snapped. Laxus looked up at the phone and watched. It was a message: “Bickslow: Freed still has his guitar, if you ask him to play you something I'm sure he will ;)”

“So, do you have a guitar?” Laxus asked.

“I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him in the worst way” he blurted out more and more irritated without answering the question.

“If you don't play me, I'll ask Bickslow to send me all the photos and recordings from that period” Laxus said at that point. Freed's expression became shocked.

“Don't you dare” he said only worried.

“Hell, I'm really tempted now” Laxus laughed. “So, would you rather play me something or put the threat into action?”

“I don't have a guitar here”.

“Too bad” Laxus said, turning his gaze to the phone and starting to write. Freed grabbed his arm and tried in vain to pull him down.

“Okay okay. I'll play something, but please shut the damn phone. Blocks Bickslow directly” Freed told him probably anxiously gripped. Laxus locked the phone and slipped it into his pocket satisfied. He sat on the sofa while Freed went to retrieve the guitar in his room. Laxus looked at her curiously. There was a drawing of a lightning bolt above, and the word 'Thunder'.

“Don't comment, I was 13” Freed ordered badly. Laxus raised his hands in peace. Freed snorted as he began to tune the guitar.

“You still play it, right?” Laxus asked. If Freed kept her in that apartment, there must be a reason. The boy shrugged.

“Sometimes” he admitted sitting on the arm of the sofa. Laxus looked at him curiously. For him who had always been passionate about music, it was nice to be able to hear someone play. He had never had the opportunity to learn how to do it, and he doubted he even had the patience for it. “Well, if you want, I'll play you an old Phantom Lord song” he told him. Laxus nodded, he was fine with anything. Freed began to play a song that the blond recognized immediately. Indeed, the boy had to play often, as his fingers moved safely on the strings.

“Aren't you singing?” Laxus asked him suddenly. Freed stiffened.

“No” he said dryly.

“Who sang among you three?” Laxus asked.

“Ever” dry reply again. “And sometimes I” he admitted after a moment's pause. Laxus chuckled in amusement.

“Are you out of tune or do you not like to sing?”.

“I'm terribly out of tune. This is why we never continued. Bickslow didn't sing too busy playing drums, Evergreen doesn't like to sing and I'm not capable of it. Honestly, I tried. And I suck, I know for myself and before you ask me, I won't sing” he clarified. Laxus smiled.

“Now I'm curious” he retorted. “I think the audio Bickslow sent me is really a cover of yours, who knows, maybe you sang it yourself” he then commented slyly.

“Laxus, no” Freed warned him. “I'm serious, I don't want to hear that stuff, whatever it is”.

“Then sing me a song” Laxus urged him “Come on, don't be a brat”.

“Settle for the guitar, what the fuck. I'm already playing for you”.

“I don't think I've ever heard you swear as much as tonight” Laxus teased, settling himself comfortably on the sofa. Freed gave him a dirty look and then smiled.

“You sing” he told him. Laxus raised an eyebrow in surprise at that request. “After all, you’re always with headphones on, sometimes I hear you sing”. Laxus snorted but nodded. He had no problem singing.

“Okay, but you first. I'm two seconds playing that audio” he reminded him. Freed snorted and blushed slightly as Laxus curiously watched him. After a few seconds he began to sing. Laxus stared at him in surprise. Actually, he wasn't quite as in tune, but not as terrible as he had said. And, Laxus couldn't do anything about it, he felt his stomach flutter. Freed had his eyes on the ropes fortunately, so he couldn’t see the expression Laxus had on his face. Because Laxus was completely fascinated by him, by his voice, by his fingers moving, by his hair set to one side, by his whole being. And damn it, Laxus wanted to kiss him. He wanted to take his face in his hands and join their lips, run his fingers through his hair and hold him close. He wanted to stretch out on that couch with him and spend all night there, no matter what, he just wanted to be with Freed. His throat went dry, and when Freed finished singing, he tried to make himself feel good.

“Your turn” Freed said, looking up at him. Laxus found himself blushing for no reason, just from catching his gaze.

“Uh... sure” he grunted awkwardly, just hoping that his friend thought he was in those states for the fact that he was forced to sing, and for nothing else. Freed looked at him in surprise.

“Strange that you haven't made any comment on my intonation” he said then amused.

“You... you're not bad” Laxus muttered. He felt more heat radiate on his face and just hoped it wasn't too visible. The expression on Freed's face changed softening and for a few seconds he remained silent looking at him. The desire to kiss him grew more and more. Laxus didn't even realize it but he was pushing towards Freed, closing the distance and only when he was close enough to smell his shampoo clearly, he realized how far he had moved. Too close. Too much, he could feel his friend's breath on his face. But then Freed jumped off the couch.

“I… sorry… I forgot about an appointment” Freed said agitatedly. Laxus sat stiffly on the sofa.

“Yes sure”.

“Sorry, Rufus... he's waiting for me” Freed stammered gesturing like crazy. At that name Laxus stiffened. Fuck. Freed had a boyfriend. How the hell had he forgotten it? “Ye… see you, huh” Freed said. A moment later he took his jacket and left the house. Laxus stood there, feeling like an idiot.

-7-

Laxus and Freed hadn't talked about it. In reality they pretended that nothing had happened, unfortunately they were forced to see each other at home but the conversations had become much shorter. They no longer dined together, and Laxus had started ordering food again and their TV series had been abandoned. Or at least, Laxus had abandoned it, he didn't want to look it without Freed. It seemed silly to be honest, but he'd tried it once and it just wasn't the same. Not without his friend's comments. Not without the popcorn they enjoyed making together. So Laxus was concentrating on his study, still trying to have as normal conversations as possible, even though he clearly felt a certain nervousness and tension when they were together in the same room. And the worst part was that Laxus had no idea what to do to improve it. He hadn't wanted them to get to that point, why the fuck had he had to come forward that night? It would have been better to be silent and still as usual, instead he had had to push himself towards him like an idiot.

Even the outings with Evergreen and Bickslow had dwindled, and usually, if he went, Freed wasn't there, and if Freed did, Laxus avoided showing up. If the two friends had noticed anything they hadn't said anything.

Annoyed he opened the book to study, until he noticed that his phone had been vibrating for too long now. He took it and saw it was Bickslow.

“Hey” he greeted him.

“Hey, hi Laxus. Listen, is Freed alive?” the friend asked. Laxus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes” he replied dryly. He had seen him that morning before he left the house.

“So, can you pass him to me? He hasn't answered me for days!” he exclaimed. Laxus made a face, the last thing he wanted was to talk to his roommate.

“He's studying” he said lowering his voice, hoping Freed wouldn't hear. After all, if Freed didn't want to talk to Bickslow, he wouldn't have to. He heard his friend snort loudly on the other side of the phone.

“I hate him when he does that” the boy muttered.

“As well as?” Laxus asked.

“He broke up with Rufus, and now he's closing in on his silence and refusing to talk to anyone about it” Bickslow explained. Laxus was silent. He didn’t know what to think of what his friend had just told him. Had they broken up because of him? No, it was all too presumptuous to think about it and after all nothing had ever happened between them. Moreover, from what little he knew about them, the two had already been arguing for a while.

“Are you alive?” Bickslow asked.

“I… yes, look, I have to study. I'll tell Freed to call you back” he told him. He greeted his friend and closed the call. Maybe he would have preferred not to know, because now he was doing too many mental journeys and it wasn't his business. He closed the book knowing that he wouldn't be able to think of anything and put his fingers to his temples. As much as one part of him was happy that those two had broken up -one part rather bitchy, he considered- the other was thinking about what Freed was going through. It was never easy to deal with a breakup, right?

He snorted and got up from his chair entering the living room and hearing that Freed was fumbling in the kitchen. Laxus was already about to order something to eat but finally decided to talk to the roommate first. So, he walked over to the kitchen door and leaned his shoulder against the door jamb.

“Hey, Bickslow called and asked for you” he told him. Freed glanced at him, then turned back to the pan on the stove.

“He just doesn't mind his own business” muttered the roommate with some irritation in his voice. Laxus stared at him in silence for a few minutes.

“He's worried” he said after a while.

“Well, you can tell him I'm alive” Freed said dryly.

“I think you should tell him” Laxus objected. “Look… I'm sorry for you and your boyfriend. If you want to talk about it, well…” he said vaguely, not quite knowing how to continue the sentence. Freed whirled towards him, as if he had said something he shouldn't have. He glared at him, then turned back to the pan.

“Of course he told you” he growled in a low voice. “Well, I'm not sick anyway. As you can see I’m alive, I eat and I continue to do the things I’ve always done. I'm not a teenager with the first crush” he then added aloud. Laxus stared at him puzzled.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with admitting...”.

“Do you need anything else?” Freed snapped interrupting him. Laxus fell silent.

“No” he just said, then left the kitchen and went to order himself something to take away.

-8-

Laxus had just taken an exam, it also went well for him so he was very satisfied. Although the situation with Freed had not improved, in fact, since he had told him about the boyfriend, it had even gotten worse. Despite this Laxus continued to move on with his life. A little more boring and a little sadder, but he couldn't do anything about it. Freed had become a wall.

Laxus walked into the house and as soon as he stepped inside, he saw that something was wrong. Freed's shoes were in the middle of the hall, and there was an empty plate on the coffee table in the living room. Freed never left anything messed up, so that was kind of weird. Laxus put the keys down partly closing the door behind him and took two steps into the living room, noticing only at that moment that Freed was lying on the sofa and sleeping. Laxus frowned as he approached him, looking at him a little surprised. Since they had lived together, he had never caught him even taking a little nap.

He glanced over his figure, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and his hair was loose and untidy, Laxus smiled slightly at the sight, at least until he saw a thermometer beside his arm. At that point he bent down and placed a hand on his forehead, only to feel it was actually hot. Surely he had a fever, and this explains the mess. At that point Laxus went to get a blanket from his room and covered it, then took the plate and went to the kitchen to clean it. Once finished and back in the living room he noticed that Freed had woken up, and he was yawning sitting on the couch.

“Alright?” Laxus asked him. Freed turned confused to him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I haven't had a fever for years, thanks for the blanket” he muttered hoarsely. Laxus smiled slightly.

“I asked you if you’re okay” he pointed out, as the roommate had avoided his question.

“Yes, just a little headache and cold” he replied, hugging the blanket. “For once you’re the one to put in order what I leave around” he commented.

“Yep, you're really messy. Shoes in the middle of the hall and flat on the coffee table” Laxus teased. Freed snorted.

“I know without even turning around that you didn't hang the keys in their place” he retorted. Laxus laughed slightly.

“Indeed” he admitted.

“Put them in place, it bothers me”.

“You don't even see them, it can't bother you” Laxus retorted. Freed yawned again. “Do you need something? Tachipirina, moment ...?”.

“No, I don't like taking medicine. I just need to sleep” Freed mumbled standing up with the blanket on, but immediately sat back on the sofa and hid his face in his hands. Laxus approached a little worried.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked him.

“Yes, just a dizziness. Come on now, I just need to sleep. Fuck, I never get a fever and I’ve an exam in two days” he snapped. “I guess I'll really have to fill myself with medicine” he said with a grimace.

“Eh, this is bad luck” Laxus commented “Come on, I'll make you something hot.”

“Why? Can you cook?” Freed teased him.

“You're sick but you're still whiny” Laxus commented with a smile. As much as he wasn't happy that the roommate was sick, he was happy to be able to talk to each other normally again. “And anyway, yes, I can cook. I just don't like it. Stay on the sofa, I'll be right back” he said and went back into the kitchen. When he returned with a plate of hot rice and vegetables, Freed made a smirk.

“You should have made a broth” he told him. Laxus rolled his eyes as he sat down beside him.

“You don't feel so bad if you keep complaining” he noted, observing his friend's pale face as he began to nibble without appetite.

“Admit you don't know how to cook broth”.

“Hey, stop complaining, or I'll mess up the whole apartment” he told him. Freed smiled faintly, continuing to nibble on small bites. Laxus finished ahead of him and set the plate down on the coffee table. After a few minutes Freed put the plate down with some more food on it, simply because he had no appetite, although he joked that if Laxus cooked better he would finish it. Then he took the thermometer again and measured his fever, which seemed to have subsided. At that point the boy got up, he was obviously tired and just wanted to sleep, even though he had already done so in the afternoon. Laxus took the dishes to wash them, relieved that they had talked a little about the last few days. He turned to go to the kitchen but Freed called him.

“Look” Laxus looked back at Freed. “I'm sorry about how I've treated you these days. I just don't like talking about my stuff, and I tend to close in on myself when something is wrong, I don't like people minding my business” he told him. Laxus noticed how stiff he was, a sign that it wasn't easy for him to talk about those things.

“Ok, you know I didn't want to mind your business, right? Just… well, if you needed a shoulder” he told him then.

“I know. I know, I just… I don't like talking about it anyway” Freed repeated. Laxus nodded slowly, scrutinizing his friend, who was evidently not well, and not just because of the fever.

“Sometimes it's good to let off steam, you know?”.

“I guess so” Freed whispered. “Just… saying things out loud makes me feel like an idiot. I mean, I'm not a teenager at the first crush and anyway it wasn't good between us, but still, it's not nice” he threw out.

“I'm sorry” he said not knowing what else to say. Freed shrugged.

“We haven't even been together for so long, just... it doesn't matter, anyway, I guess it just takes some time” he added with a small hint of a smile. “And you’ve some dishes to wash” he added then. Laxus smiled.

“Yes, as soon as you recover, know that I'll give all the work to you” he said with a hint of amusement.

“Sure” Freed said walking towards his room with the blanket still wrapped around him, and the blond chuckled at the view. The friend turned to him, frowning. “What do you have now?”.

“Oh, nothing, you know you're walking around with a blanket, right?” he teased him.

“Yes, and know that I won't give it back to you until I'm healed, it's hot and I'm not going to get out of here” Freed declared seriously, stealing another laugh from Laxus. Freed smiled faintly. “Thanks for everything, goodnight” he told him and then shut himself in his room.

“Night” Laxus whispered and returned to the kitchen with a smile. That had definitely been a good day.

-9-

“You mean you've never done an Escape Room?” Freed asked surprised. Laxus rolled his eyes.

“Never. I'm not crazy about that bullshit with demons and zombies and weird rituals, or whatever is in there” he said.

“Is that another way of saying you're afraid?” his friend teased him and Laxus rolled his eyes and gave him a grim look.

“I'm not afraid, it's just not things that amuse me” he objected. Freed, however, had a smirk on his face and didn’t seem to want to give up.

“Well, if you're afraid there are rooms with other themes, mostly they are logic games, they don't have to be horror themed. However, you shouldn't worry anyway, you know, zombies are fake”.

“I never would have imagined it” Laxus said ironically. Freed grinned as he pulled on his jacket.

“Come on let's go, Bickslow and Evergreen are waiting for us”. Laxus shook his head in amusement and put on his coat, then left the house and followed Freed, who was already walking down the stairs. He began to tease him that he shouldn't be scared, even though ghosts could appear from time to time because they were attracted to the horror-themed rooms. Laxus found himself listening to the boy with a smile on his face. That game didn't inspire him much, but the idea of spending an entire afternoon with Freed wasn't bad at all.

In the end it was more fun than expected. Mainly for the company, Freed was definitely the most into those things, while Bickslow had more fun fooling around with all the items he found around the room. Evergreen was equally into that game, perhaps she even reached Freed’s enthusiasm. Laxus smiled slightly as he saw the roommate struggling with a code to decode, while the girl looked for an image of a sun somewhere.

“How are you with that code?” Laxus asked him.

“Ah, I think I understand how to decode it, I just need a pen and paper”. Laxus handed him a sheet. “Your usefulness in this game is great” Freed said ironically taking it and the blond chuckled.

“You were the one who dragged me here” he pointed out. Freed looked up at him and Laxus saw a glint of concern in his eyes. “Come on, tell me how you're decoding this stuff” he said before he cared if he was having a good time. Freed for a moment showed some uncertainty, but then he began to explain to him and Laxus found himself being dragged by his friend into the game. Eventually they came out early to the great satisfaction of Freed and Evergreen.

“We’re too smart” commented the girl “Not many manage to get out within the allotted time, you know?” she asked Laxus, who glanced at Freed.

“Well, I guess we couldn't expect anything else with a nerd” The boy concerned gave an amused smile.

“I'll take that as a compliment” he decided. Laxus giggled and then they said goodbye to Bickslow and Evergreen to go back to the apartment. They got into Freed's car, which he started and began to calmly walk through the streets. He turned on the radio at a low volume, leaving the music that was passing by.

“Did you have fun? I don't get offended if you say no, you know” Freed said after a while. Laxus turned towards him in surprise and noticed that the boy had stiffened a bit. He was almost imperceptible, but the blond now knew enough to understand him.

“Sure” he replied truthfully “I mean, I’d never go alone, but if you're with the right group of people you have fun everywhere, right?” he added. Freed nodded slowly and Laxus noticed that he was nervously nibbling his lip. “What's up?” she asked him. Freed gave him a surprised look without saying anything. “Come on, there's something you're worried about” Laxus said.

“Well… it's nothing, I just didn't want to have dragged you on a boring afternoon” he admitted. Laxus smiled faintly at his concern.

“Well, it's a little hard to get bored when you have a brat next to you who shoots bullshit one after another” he retorted. Freed frowned.

“The brat would be Bickslow, right?”

“No, that would be you” Laxus laughed.

-10-

Laxus cursed as he heard the doorbell ring. Who the fuck rang the doorbell at three in the morning? Extremely irritated he got out of bed, whoever the asshole was he would have yelled at him about everything. Annoyed, he went to the intercom.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled without any moderation. Not that he wasn't justified, he was sleeping so well before that guy woke him up.

“It's me” he heard him mutter from the other side and Laxus widened his eyes: that was Freed's voice. “I forgot the keys” he added with a sneer. “I'm so sorry” he added. Laxus took a deep breath.

“You're drunk?” he asked him.

“No... just a little tipsy”. Only from the tone of his voice did Laxus realize that he was more than just tipsy. Annoyed, he opened the gate for him.

“Wait for me there. The elevator is broken and I'm sure you’d overturn from the stairs, even if you deserve it” he grunted. He put on his shoes and left the apartment, going down the stairs cursing over and over again, until he got to the ground floor. Freed was standing with his back against the wall, his eyes closed and his head dangling from side to side.

“How the fuck did you drink?” Laxus snapped as he approached. The roommate opened his eyes.

“I don’t know. Bickslow kept ordering stuff” he mumbled. Laxus rolled his eyes and grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him towards the stairs.

“You owe me a favor, and expect revenge. You fucking woke me up” he blurted out as he climbed the stairs with his friend staggering in front of him. “My goodness, I've never seen you so drunk. You weren't like that in bowling either” he commented.

“It's Bickslow's fault, he wanted to make a challenge. But I won” he added with a smirk.

“I doubt you won, Bickslow has more resistance than you” Laxus retorted annoyed.

“No, that wasn't the challenge” Freed chuckled. “He said I'd be a stupid drunk. Obviously, he was wrong, I recited the time table of seven and I solved a physics problem perfectly” he declared with great satisfaction. Laxus shook his head in resignation as he held him straight so he didn't squash his face to the ground.

“Too bad you can't walk straight” he grunted he still irritated by what he had to do at that time. Freed laughed and Laxus just hoped no one would come out complaining.

“I can recite you the whole monologue from the Lord of the Rings opening” Freed said.

“Please, no” Laxus begged, but Freed didn't listen to him and began to mumble.

“It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf-Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings…” Laxus nevertheless found himself smiling amused. Freed didn't walk straight, but he really had memorized that monologue. When they arrived at the door, the friend was still talking, and the blonde let him do it wondering if he was going to play the whole movie for him too. He pushed his friend into the apartment and after a couple of seconds the boy fell silent.

“See, I've said it all. Without slackening or missing a single word” he declared with great satisfaction. Laxus ran a hand wearily over his face.

“You're weird” he mumbled and Freed chuckled again. He had to admit it though, seeing him like this was fun. Finally, he had broken down all the walls, his usual composed and mostly impassive expression was gone.

“I'm hungry, do you want some popcorn? I make them for both of us” Freed said.

“It's three in the morning, I'm not hungry. Go to sleep” Laxus told him. But Freed ignored him and headed for the kitchen.

“So, I know you eat them later!” he exclaimed.

“Don't fucking scream, people are sleeping” Laxus warned, following him into the kitchen. He would have gladly gone to sleep, but Freed had tipped some popcorn out of the pan and forgot to take the lid off. “So, they'll blow up all over the kitchen, and tomorrow you'll complain about how dirty you've got it all” he pointed out.

“I'll clean it all up” Freed retorted, lighting the gas. Laxus finally agreed that it was best to stay there and make sure he wasn't in trouble. He put a lid on the pan and forced him to sit down. Luckily Freed didn't reply and sat down at the table, resting his head on his hands.

“I thought you were more responsible, you know?” said the blond. Freed looked up at him.

“I'm responsible” he said immediately. “It was just a fun night, you could have come too, it would have been more fun” he added. Laxus found himself surprised to hear those words.

“It was a guy's birthday party I've never seen before” he reminded him. Freed shrugged.

“It would have been more fun anyway. You missed Bickslow doing karaoke, a rather pitiful scene” he said in amusement.

“Didn't you do it? That would have been fun” Laxus commented.

“No, as I said I’m responsible. I knew I was going to make a fool of myself, and I pretended to go to the bathroom when Bickslow wanted to drag me onto the stage” he said. Laxus smiled as he imagined the scene, then fell silent in the kitchen. The popcorn began to pop and when they were ready the blond transferred it to a bowl, mixed it with the salt and then put it on the table. Satisfied Freed began to eat while he told him what else Bickslow had done. Laxus listened amused. A little bit he regretted not going, it would have been really fun to see Freed playing darts when his coordination was pitiful with alcohol in his body. But it was just as nice to see him like that.

When the popcorn was finished Laxus was no longer tired, by dint of talking and listening to his friend he had woken up, so he cleaned the bowl and the pan while Freed talked to him about the game of billiards and how they had all lost to Evergreen. Once he finished cleaning the kitchen, he heard his friend yawn.

“You're finally tired, huh?” he commented turning to Freed, who had risen from his chair and was closer than he expected. The friend smiled and placed a hand on his chest.

“Thank you very much. And I'm sorry for waking you up and keeping you awake, you didn't have to” he said sincerely grateful. Laxus softened his gaze trying not to focus on how far their bodies were now inches apart.

“I know. But I'm not an asshole like you, who surely would have left me out of the building” he said and Freed chuckled.

“I wouldn't have done that, I’d have helped you. I probably would have been less willing to make popcorn and would have insulted you a lot more than you did me, but I'm not bad enough to leave you in the cold”.

“Yeah, you probably would have told me to exhaustion how irresponsible I am.”

“That I definitely would have done” Freed agreed and then smiled warmly at him. Laxus felt slightly agitated under the intense gaze of his friend, who suddenly fell silent and just looked at him. Then Freed grabbed him by the collar and pushed him towards him, bringing their lips together.

Laxus didn't take long to respond to the kiss, although he hadn't expected it. Although he felt it was wrong, because Freed was drunk. And he knew it, he should have stopped it before it got too much. But it was already too much and the feeling of Freed's lips on his thrilled him enormously. Freed put a hand through his hair, while Laxus wrapped his arms around his back. The kiss became more intense, deeper and both pushed against each other. Now Laxus could feel Freed's hand descend along the undershirt and rise under him, touching his bare skin. Too much. It was definitely too much.

Before they pushed past Laxus broke away, slightly panting and staring in surprise as Freed kept running his hand up his abs. Something that Laxus wouldn't have wanted to stop, because the feel of their bodies so close sent flashes of excitement down his body. But he had to stop it. He took his wrist and took his hand away. Freed looked up at him surprised and disappointed.

“Don't...” Laxus's voice came out hoarse. “You're drunk” he said.

“Yes, but it's something I've wanted for a while. Since you almost kissed me two months ago” Freed replied. Laxus opened his eyes slightly, while a feeling similar to euphoria filled him. “I wanted to reciprocate, but… it felt wrong” he said. Laxus swallowed hard, for now his self-control was wavering. He wanted to take his face in his hands and kiss him, because that was a statement, but Freed was still drunk anyway.

“And it was, because you had a boyfriend” he decided to say after a few seconds. Freed looked up at him. “Freed, I like you, seriously, but you're drunk, I don't want that to happen now. We can talk about it in the morning” he revealed with a hint of courage. He saw a smile open on the boy's face.

“Ok” he whispered. Laxus smiled in turn.

“Ok” he repeated. They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence, both red-faced and smiling. “Let's go to sleep” Laxus said after a while, because he was sure, if he had stayed there, he would have risked kissing him again and never stop. And he didn't want it. Not like that. Freed nodded and pulled away from him. Then they both went back to their rooms, and Laxus fell asleep with a smile.

-11-

When he woke up the next day it took him a few seconds to remember what had happened and he felt anxiety fill his chest. He was obviously happy, but now doubts assailed him. Freed had been drunk the night before, maybe he didn't really mean what he said. Obviously, he was stupid to think so, it's not that he was completely out of his mind and damn, Freed had recited the entire monologue of ‘The lord of the rings’. He obviously thought about what he said. But that didn't help him calm down. Laxus put his hands to his face and forced himself to get out of bed, when he came out of the room he smelled an inviting smell, but he forced himself to go to the bathroom and wash himself before entering the kitchen. Freed was cooking pancakes. He turned to him with his lips folded in a slight smile.

“I made you coffee” he told him, pointing to the moka pot. Laxus came over, muttering a thank you and pouring it into his cup, trying not to look too much at his friend. He definitely didn't know what to say and almost hoped he was the one doing it. He took a sip and leaned his back to the fridge, barely glancing at Freed who was placing pancakes on a plate. When he finished he turned to him and spoke.

“I'm sorry about last night” he said. Laxus just nodded and Freed went on “I haven't drunk that much in a long time, I didn't really want to wake you up, and you were kind nonetheless”.

“You've been forgiven” Laxus said, pointing to the pancakes and coffee, which he threw down in another gulp and then set the cup on the counter. Freed nodded.

“Yeah, well, I hope so” he added. The silence fell again and Laxus met his eyes for a moment, Freed was thoughtful, as if he were considering something. “About what happened next ... I didn't lie, I've wanted to do it for quite a while. Doing it drunk was stupid but… I didn't regret it. I like you Laxus, and I'd really like to try dating you” he said. A slight blush colored his cheeks, and it was evident that he was a little insecure, even if he didn’t show it openly. Laxus felt a sensation of relief and adrenaline filling his stomach. Knowing that Freed reciprocated was all too exciting. A smile broke on his face without Laxus being able to hold it back.

“Well... yes. I mean, I want to go out with you too” he said. Freed's face relaxed and a tiny smile appeared. After that Laxus put an arm around his waist and pushed him towards him kissing him. And that was even better than their first kiss. Because now there was no doubt about what they both wanted. And that sweet coffee-flavored kiss proved it.

[tchallasbabymama]

all of your love

Hey y’all! Here’s Chapter 4 of my Playlist series. Make sure you catch up on the series (and check out my other stuff) by checking out my masterlist HERE. 

Let me know what y’all think!

This one is nasty (18+ as always), enjoy!

Word count: 6,195

T’Challa woke up Tuesday morning eager as a kid on Christmas. Every second that went by brought him closer to Ashanti and he couldn’t wait any longer, his excited nerves building to critical mass within him. Natasha and Wanda had noticed his constant texting and smiling at his beads, and worked hard the entire time he was there to get the truth out of him about who he was talking to. They tried asking Okoye, but she was a steel trap so the two of them cornered him in the living room just before his departure. Their suspicions were confirmed when he proudly pulled up a picture of her to show them.

“Damn she fine, who is that?” Sam sauntered into the room as T’Challa quickly shut the projection down and cleared his throat.

“She is none of your concern.”

“His girlfriend,” Natasha said at the same time before smirking into her cup of coffee. T’Challa looked at her in disbelief and she shrugged back at him in response. “Oh please, he would’ve found out eventually.”

The king rolled his eyes and left the room in a huff to go pack his things.

“He’s so pissy today,” Natasha said, a smirk still firmly planted on her face.

“He misses her, it’s adorable,” Wanda responded.

“Shit, I would too. Y’all saw her.”

T’Challa swept back in the room, bags in hand, calling to Okoye on his beads.

“General, are you ready to go?”

“Ewe kumkani wam, be down in a moment.”

Cap rounded the corner and picked up on T’Challa’s anxious energy. He turned to look at the other faces and a smile crept up his before he turned to his friend.

“Ready to get back to Ashanti, huh?”

A chorus of “Ashanti?!” broke out.

“Why’d he get to know her name and we didn't?” Wanda asked incredulously.

“I was getting there but the bird interrupted,” T’Challa said with a shrug, referring to Sam who rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to the king before leaving the room. 

“Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a second before you go?”

“Of course Steve, what is it?”

The two of them ducked off into the hallway for privacy.

“How is he?” Steve asked of his friend.

“He is responding to treatment really well, you should come see him sometime. Shuri has removed most of the words, and living with the Border tribe seems to be good for his mental state.”

Steve smiled from ear to ear. Hearing about Bucky’s progress warmed his heart and he seriously considered hopping on the jet with T’Challa right then and there.

“How about next week sometime? I have some things I need to finish up here, but I’d love to come see him. And see Wakanda properly this time.”

The two heroes shook hands and returned to the living room. At that moment Vision floated up through the floor and Okoye rounded the corner.

“I will never get used to that.”

“My apologies, general.”

“Apology accepted. My king?”

“Yes, we should get going. I will see you all again, hopefully not too soon.”

They said their goodbyes as the two Wakandans made their way to the Royal Talon Fighter to head home. Once Okoye had them in the air, T’Challa retired to one of the jet’s two bedrooms to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and take a nap on the plush Wakandan mattress he missed so much. He was out like a light.

“My king, we are home,” Okoye lightly shook T’Challa awake. He got up and changed back into his clothes before exiting the ship. The entire royal family was there to greet him, much to his surprise. He greeted his mother and sister before landing on his cousin. 

“Umzala, I thought you were heading to Oakland,” he said as they dapped each other up.

“I’m about to head out now, just figured I’d wait a few and say hey to my favorite cousin.”

“You said I was your favorite cousin!” Shuri butted in.

“Hush, Dr. Frankenstein,” N’Jadaka remarked back at her. Shuri was shocked, but her face quickly morphed into amusement as a laugh erupted from her lips.

“If I’m Dr Frankenstein you just called yourself the monster,” Shuri cackled as she walked away, most likely going back to her lab to tinker with the laws of physics or something simple like that. 

“Welcome home son,” Ramonda lightly pushed her nephew aside. “How are the Avengers?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at their incompetence and inability to work as a fluid team.

“Inept, mama. The captain might be visiting soon though,” he said with an eyebrow raise, knowing his mother had a little crush on Captain America.

“Oh, will he? I’ll have to be sure to spend some one on one time with the captain while he’s here.”

“Ew, Auntie.”

“Mama, please stop.”

“What? I still got it!” Ramonda turned and walked back towards the palace.

The cousins just looked at eachother and shuddered before N’Jadaka took off in the same jet T’Challa just arrived on. 

The next morning, T’Challa woke up later than most days. When he returns from a mission he likes to keep his workload light the following day, so he caught up on more of the sleep he had been missing out on. The very first thing he did after waking up was send Ashanti a “good morning beautiful” text, and before his feet even hit the floor she had responded.

Ashanti: Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?

T: Much better in my own bed, but still not as good as when you were in my arms.

A: Don’t make me blush.

T: But it’s so cute when you do.

T’Challa dragged himself out of bed and straight to his shower, turning on the hot water and turning his jungle bathroom into a sauna. 

“Kim, shuffle between my recently played songs.” He called out to the AI housed in his beads and around his quarters.

“Now playing ‘all of your love’ by Luke James,” the smooth automated voice rang out. A smile spread across his face as he remembered his picnic with Ashanti by the lake. They tapped beads and made a joint playlist, this album being one of Ashanti’s favorites. He had listened to it multiple times while he was away, missing her with every note.

You got the kinda loving 

That'll break a motherfucker's knees, baby

Got me begging, got me craving

I just wanna get a squeeze, baby

Don't leave me 'lone

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here

I want it all

Want it all, want it all

Want it all, want it all, my dear

All of your love

(Give it all to me baby, yeah)

All of your love, yeah

(It's for me it's for you, baby)

All of your love

(I need it)

Give me all of your love (ooh)

He stepped under the faux rainfall and let it wash over his body, lathering up with some mango scented black soap. After his perfectly sculpted body was clean he turned off the water and air dried while covering his smooth brown skin in cocoa butter.

The king was looking forward to his day for two reasons: he would get to spend time with his little sister during the day and then Ashanti at night. For his first major stop of the day, he and Shuri went to the mines to check on the progress of the latest excavation efforts. The mining tribe elder K’Hari was intent on setting T’Challa up with his daughter Tamala, so they quickly made their escape to Shuri’s lab where they spent the rest of the day playfully bickering over who makes better gadgets while testing out some of Shuri’s latest inventions. T’Challa knew he would not win the argument, but enjoyed annoying his little sister. 

Around lunchtime T’Challa made his way back to the palace to eat with Ramonda in her garden. She wasted no time cutting to the chase.

“So this Ashanti, you have feelings for her?”

T’Challa nearly choked on his water, not expecting to cross into that territory so soon. 

“Uh, yes, umama, I do. It is still early though, the other night was only our first da-” he stopped when he saw the incredulous look on her face. She sucked her teeth at him.

“You brought a girl to the palace after one date? Do you make a habit of this?”

“No mama, I promise. The last time was when you caught me a few years back. With Ashanti it just...felt right.”

“Hmm...Lets hope it is. Bringing girls in the palace you barely know, I may not have been there your whole life, but I definitely raised you better than that...I can see she is different though, not like the riff raff you usually sniff around. That last girl you dated was horrid-”

T’Challa listened as Ramonda read his love life for filth, and all he could do was sit there.

“-skirts up to her ass, heels way too high for the setting. Thank Bast you’ve found someone good. Good for you, and good for Wakanda.”

“Woah, mama, we have only had one date and you are talking about Wakanda already? I do not even know if she would want to be queen one day.”

“No, but you want her to. I can see it in your eyes when you look at her. Yes, it’s early but you’re in love, unyana wam. The other day, watching the two of you, I could see how...easy you were with each other. I miss that easiness I had with your father…” T’Challa grabbed her hand as her eyes got misty. Ramonda blinked the tears away and turned the conversation back to T’Challa and Ashanti. “Everyone can see it, and I bet she’s walking around just as googly-eyed as you are.”

______

Ashanti and Kwame walked through the market arm-in-arm, picking up ingredients as they went.

“So tell me about this mining tribe hottie,” Ashanti spoke after a comfortable silence.

“Sis, I have one word for you: biceps. He could benchpress me and I just- woo that’s hot as fuck.” Kwame said, picking up a fan from a vendor and fanning himself dramatically before paying the old lady who ran the store.

“You really just bought a fan to be dramatic?”

“It’s practical and a prop!”

The two roommates broke out into giggles.

“Anyways, his name is Omar. Here’s his picture, isn't he cute? Ugh those dimples, I could swim in them.”

Ashanti flipped through a couple pictures of the two of them before Kwame shut the hologram down.

“You’re scrolling too much, you might see things you can't unsee.”

“Good looking out, friend.”

“So what are you serving kumkani other than that pussy?” Kwame asked loudly.

“Will you keep your voice down?! I’m not trying to announce this to the world.” Ashanti whisper-yelled at him before he threw his hands up in surrender. 

“My bad, my bad. Hey did you close the shop today or did you finally hire someone?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t even really been looking, I should get on that. But, uh, yeah I closed early. I'm there 7 days a week, the people can handle me being out for a few hours,” Ashanti said, Kwame nodding along in agreement. “Hey, want to stop by my parents’ place for lunch?”

“Girl when have I ever said no to food?” Kwame responded with excitement. He never said no to food. 

“Should we bring something back for B?”

“No she’s probably going to stay a couple nights with Kiki. You know, so they can ‘catch up’ or whatever. Honestly, its like she forgets i can see right through her.” Kwame rolled his eyes.

“Even I can see they have feelings for eachother-”

“Girl blind people see they have feelings for each other. It’s her first experience with a girl so I don’t want to push her but damnit just do gay shit already sis!” 

They arrived at Zana Cafe right as Ashanti’s riotous laughter subsided. 

“Hey babygirl, hey Kwame! Where’s my other daughter?” Chidi asked, hugging them both.

The three of them sat at a table near the kitchen and away from the hustle and bustle.

“She’s out ignoring her feelings for Kiki.”

“Kiki Odunsi? She’s a nice girl, Binta has good taste.”

“That’s what I said, Baba, but she’s just too nervous to act on it. Yet she pushes me into the king’s arms-”

“I’m sure I don't want to hear the rest of that statement, but your mom will be back soon and I’m sure she’d love to hear all about it. You kids want some food? We got some curry that just finished, you have perfect timing.”

“We felt it in our souls,” Kwame half-joked. Chidi disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with their food, letting them dig in while he ran the restaurant. 

About halfway through lunch Kwame got a message from Omar that made his entire face turn red as his lip disappeared under his top teeth.

“Go ahead,” Ashanti said, already knowing the content of the message without having to see it. He either sent a nasty picture or a dirty text, and either way she knew the second Kwame saw it he was mentally already sucking Omar’s dick. 

He got up, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and waving goodbye to Chidi as he all but ran to his dick appointment.

“Well he sure got out of here in a hurry,” Chidi came over and sat across from his daughter. 

“A boy texted him.”

“Should’ve known,” he said before clearing his throat. “So, the king...how is that going?”

“You actually want to talk about it?”

“Of course, you’re my daughter. It’s just hard to see you as an adult sometimes, but I’m getting better at it.”

“Well he and I really connect on a lot of levels. He’s so smart, and sweet, and considerate and I know we only had that one date but I feel like I’ve known him for years. We have another date tonight, I’m making him mama’s pirri pirri chicken.”

Chidi sat back in amazement. Here was his little girl...in love...with the king of Wakanda. 

“You know, that’s what your mother made the first time she cooked for me.”

“It is?!”

“Mhm, that’s how she hooked me. Been trapped ever since.”

Ashanti playfully hit her father’s arm and thought about her meal plan for later.

“Well, Baba, I have to go prep for tonight. Give Mama my love when she gets back.” Ashanti kissed her father on the cheek and headed back to her empty home.

______

Her “Sacral Chakra” playlist blasted through the house as she danced in her underwear to Missy Elliott’s “Throw it Back” while stirring the rice one last time. Everything was ready, and she still had plenty of time before he was supposed to show up. She put the oven on “warm” and stuffed the dishes inside before removing the rice from the heat and trotting upstairs to get herself ready for the life changing dick-down she was surely about to receive.

She changed the music to fit the mood she wanted to set, switching to her “Sexy” playlist and swooning at the sound of one of her favorite songs tickling her ears. 

Like a flame to a moth 

I'm addicted to your sauce, so bad

I want it 24/7, 365, 911

I need it fast

Don't leave me 'lone (so)

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone (so fast)

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here

(911 terrible baby, yeah)

I want it all

Want it all, want it all

Want it all, want it all, my dear

All of your love

(Give it all to me, baby)

All of your love, yes

(It's for me it's for you, baby)

All of your love

('Cause I need it)

Give me all of your love (ooh)

Luke’s voice carried her as she took a dip in the tub with a colorful jasmine and ylang ylang bath bomb before moisturizing with rose-infused shea butter. Her skin smelled like a forbidden garden, just the way she liked it. Then she trimmed her pubic hair, cleaning up her bikini line and giving him a clear, well-groomed path to her treasure trove. Finally, she painted her nails and toes white to stand out against her skin and avoid clashing with her colorful, off the shoulder, bodycon ankara dress. Ashanti chose to keep her braids down and makeup light again, knowing all that extra makeup would get ruined anyway. For a final touch she slid on her strappy gold stilettos, knowing just how much he loved them from their kimoyo chats. 

The doorbell rang and Ashanti took a deep breath before straightening her dress and heading to the door. When she opened it both of their jaws dropped. There he was in an all-black suit with a black shirt underneath, a purple pocket square, and that damn hoop in his ear. He looked like the black panther he was and Ashanti wanted nothing more than to be his prey.

His eyes roamed her body and landed back on her face before he stepped over the threshold and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues danced alongside each other as both of their hands reacquainted themselves with the other’s body. T’Challa’s hand steadily sliding down her backside brought her out of her daze and she broke the kiss. He frowned as though she had taken away his favorite toy.

“Dinner, your highness.” She said before giving him one last peck and escaping to the kitchen with him on her heels. As she tried to maneuver around the kitchen, T’Challa refused to let go of her waist, whispering sweet nothings in her ear every few seconds about how much he missed her.

“T’Challa, go sit down, I’ll bring you your food,” She giggled as he kissed her cheek repeatedly. “Go!”

He let her go with a slap on the ass and sat down at the table, watching her float around the kitchen. After a couple minutes, Ashanti set two plates full of delicious looking food down on the table. She cracked open a bottle of palm wine and poured them both a generous amount. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk Miss Mostafa?”

“Maybe. Cheers.” Their glasses clinked together and they both took a sip without breaking eye contact.

“Tell me what you think,” Ashanti pointed at his plate to get him to focus. The king took one bite and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“You made this?!”

“Ha ha, T’Challa. Yes, I made this. It’s my umama’s recipe though. And make sure you save room for dessert” she said while digging into her food. 

“My compliments to the chef,” he said as he seductively brought his lips around his forkful of food, still staring into her soul.

The two of them caught up on their time apart, what little they didn’t already discuss in their kimoyo chats. T’Challa regaled her with stories of his work with the Avengers, and he watched her in admiration as she spoke about the happenings at Taj’s.

“Ready for our next course?” Ashanti asked the king.

“I am.”

Ashanti scooped the warm mango cobbler into two bowls and topped each one with ice cream. She set T’Challa’s bowl down in front of him and went to take her seat when his hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back towards him. 

“Sit on my lap,” he said in a low grumble.

Ashanti’s feet carried her back to the king and she turned to sit across his lap.

“Not like that, face me.”

“My dress-”

“I don’t care.”

A chill went down her spine as she hiked her dress up over her thick thighs and straddled him. He reached for his bowl and scooped up some cobbler and ice cream, bringing it to her lips.

“Open.”

Her lips parted and she tasted her sugary concoction, happy it turned out how she wanted it to.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“Is it sweet?” He asked, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling her scent.

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Feed it to me.”

They took turns feeding eachother the cobbler, licking the melted ice cream from each other's lips. With each bite, the king’s hand travelled further and further up Ashanti’s thigh, gripping her tight and causing her to let out the tiniest whimpers. 

He could smell her arousal and it drove him crazy. When his hands travelled up to her hips and felt no underwear she looked at him and winked, flipping the switch within him. His eyes turned almost completely black as his fingers trailed across her body directly to her clit. Ashanti jumped, but his other arm held her down. His fingers circled her clit, making more wetness drip out of her. She suckled on his bottom lip and moved her hips to get him to stop teasing her, but he wasn’t a fan of her defiance.

“Did I say move?”

His voice sent a chill down Ashanti’s spine and straight to her pussy. Another rush of liquid escaped her and T’Challa chuckled darkly.

“You like when I tell you what to do, don't you?” He asked, one hand still teasing her clit while the other gripped her jaw forcing her to look into his eyes. She nodded desperately and he laughed in her face. “I know you do, kitten. You know what I want you to do for me?”

She struggled to compose herself, his teasing becoming too much for her to handle.

“What? I’ll do anything”

“I know you will. Cum on my fingers when I fucking say so, do you understand me?” She nodded as his fingers moved down to her now dripping hole, three of them opening her up and sliding in deep while the heel of his hand pushed into her clit. He slapped her ass with his free hand. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes.”

He curled his fingers inside her, alternating between quick and slow thrusts, all while dragging the pads of his fingers across her g-spot. More wetness pooled between her legs as he dug in her, causing her to grind into his hand for even more friction.

“There you go, nasty girl. Work for it, mhm…” He licked from her collarbone to her ear before nibbling on her lobe, making her release a moan from deep within her core. “You sound so beautiful, I’m going to make you sound like this all night. Are you ready for me?”

She held on tight to his shoulders and rocked into him more, the tension building in her body.

“Yes, kumkani.”

He growled and pulled his fingers from her, placing his hands under her thighs and picking her up while she whined at the empty feeling.

“Where’s your room?” He spoke into her ear as she wound her hips against his and sucked on his neck. She pointed up the stairs, but her lack of communication frustrated him more. He needed to be inside her now.

He backed her into an empty wall and pushed his pelvis into hers. Her eyes rolled back at the feel of his third leg against her pussy.

“You want it?” He teased. She nodded vigorously as he unzipped his pants and pushed them to his feet. “Do something about it.”

She reached between them and almost cried at the feeling of his hot, pulsating dick in her hands. She couldn’t close her small hands around it, and she wondered briefly about how it would fit in her mouth. She felt the throbbing veins up and down his shaft and his length would surely fill her to the brim. She swiped her thumb over the precum oozing out the head of his dick and brought it to her lips to taste. The sweet saltiness of him set her off, and she lifted her body up before sliding down on his length.

She was too eager to be bothered by the stretch of her pussy, just wanting him inside her.

He moaned into her ear and gripped her ass tight as she enveloped him in her warmth. He wanted to keep his composure, but it slipped more with every bounce of her juicy ass onto his pelvis. The thickness of his dick pulling her clit combined with the edging from earlier had her on the verge of an orgasm already.

 After letting her get used to his size, the king decided to stop playing nice and pushed her back into the wall, staring deep into her eyes as he thrust into her body. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she held on for dear life as he busted her wide open.

“Oooh, T’Challa!”

“Hm? You like when I do that? What about this?” He lifted her and brought her down onto him, the force causing her to yell out his name between thrusts.

“T-Chal-la, oh-my-Bast-it-feels-so-good. Mmm I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” She barely rushed out before her muscles tightened and released around him, both of them moaning out in pleasure. He continued to hold her while they stared into each other’s eyes forehead to forehead, breathing heavily, until she broke the silence.

“Can I taste you?” she whispered and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He placed her down and she immediately sank to her knees, licking her essence off of his dick.

His hand went to the back of her head as she sucked the tip and rotated her two hands along his shaft. After a few moments she grew brave and pushed him further into her throat, making his toes curl. She was down to one hand and decided to go even deeper. Resting her jaw, she brought her free hand to stroke his shaft while alternating between licking his balls and softly bringing them into her mouth. Her lips made their way back to his pulsating dick, his chorus of “fuck yes, just like that” and “suck that dick” lost on her ears while she focused all her will power on swallowing the monster before her. Her mouth slowly crept over his tip and down his shaft as far down as she went before. She swallowed and took him in deeper, nose almost touching his pubic hair.

“Fuck!”

He wasn’t expecting that and came down her throat. She gladly swallowed every drop.

“Good girl, make sure you clean your plate for your king.” He pulled her up by her jaw and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth to taste himself on her. He slapped both her ass cheeks.

“Get in that bedroom.”

She grabbed his hand and led him to her room, her dress at her waist and those damn heels on her feet. Ashanti had a feeling those would be staying on most of the night. 

When she opened her door, he only looked around briefly before grabbing her by her throat and licking her neck. Her pussy throbbed once more.

“Why do you like when I’m rough with you?” He growled in her ear as he unzipped her dress. “Answer me.”

“My king, I-I don’t know but it turns me on.”

“You don’t know, huh? That’s not a good enough answer. Bend over, grab your ankles. Let’s see if you can figure it out” His hand pushed on her back, making her bend at the waist before he slammed into her, taking everything she had to give. His hips slowed down and stirred inside her, making her release a long, deep moan each time he pushed deeper.

Tears came to her eyes from how he was hitting it. She had never felt anything so deep or so thick inside her, and the way he was moving made her cry out to the heavens.

“Bast!”

“She’s not here love, you’re at my mercy,” He chuckled and grabbed her neck, pulling her up to whisper in her ear as his hips sped back up and she grabbed onto the back of his head for stability. His left hand had a tight grip on her hip, but his right hand came up to tweak her nipples as he slowed his strokes back down, circling his hips. 

“Yes, kumkani” she moaned out on repeat like a broken record. He had hit that spot in her that shut her brain down, making her putty in his hands.

“I’m going to ask you again sithandwa, why do you like it when I’m rough with you? Hmm? I know it’s hard to think right now, but try for your kumkani. We talked about it before. Why do you want me to treat you this way?”

“B-because I’m my kumkani’s little slut.”

He smiled as wide as the cheshire cat and stilled inside her, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“That’s my good girl, my little slut. You like being kumkani’s little slut?”

“Mmm, yes. Please, make me your slut kumkani. I’ll be good.”

He pulled out and slapped her ass.

“Prove it. Good girls ride dick.” He laid back on the bed, hands behind his head as he watched her stand over him and squat onto his throbbing member. He moaned as she dropped her weight on him and picked it back up repeatedly, tightening her kegel muscles on the way back up each time. She eventually dropped down to her knees to give her thighs a break and leaned back towards his legs, giving him a full view of her body as he watched himself go in and out of her.

“Shit, Ashanti.”

She slowed down and sat up, circling her hips and gripping him tight before leaning over and letting him suck on her nipples. She let him have his fill then whispered in his ear, “Am I a good girl yet?”

His mouth left her breasts and he pulled her into a deep kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance with his eventually winning again. He pulled back to take in her beautiful face that was twisted in pleasure, his black eyes staring deep into her brown ones.

“The best.”

The king wrapped his arms around Ashanti’s waist and spread his legs before thrusting up into her, catching her off guard. Her body succumbed to his and another wave of intense pleasure washed over her as she came once more. He fucked her all the way through her orgasm, refusing to let up.

“Do you have one more in you kitten? Can you be a good girl and cum again for your kumkani?”

“T’Challa, I-”

“Who?!” he hooked his arms under her knees and flipped them over, driving his big dick deep into her guts with a roll of his hips.

Tears came to her eyes and he wiped them away, pausing his movements. “Are you ok, love? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I...it just feels so good. You feel so good inside me, baby.”

“Do I?” he teased as he thrust impossibly deeper inside her, watching as the tears sprang from her eyes, kissing them away.

“Yessss,” she hissed as their foreheads came together so they could stare deep into each other’s souls as their climaxes approached. 

He pushed her legs back further and she felt him drop all his weight into her pussy over and over and over and she left her body, tears running from her eyes and juices seeping from her pussy. Her head rolled back and a faint smile appeared on her face as he fucked her stupid. Her nails dug into his back as his hips continued to thrust into her from above and he left his signature on her neck. He felt her body tensing up again and  he decided to stop delaying his release before he killed the poor girl. 

“Kitten.” He said to her in a soft, sweet voice, slowing down his strokes and just grinding in her deep. She struggled to focus on him but when their eyes met, he leaned in for a soft kiss. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. You take me so well baby, it’s like your pussy was made for me. You said I could cum inside you, will you still let your kumkani cum deep inside that pussy?” They had already discussed this, knowing it would come up at some point. Luckily they both had their STI prevention shots and  they were both on birth control, so since they shared the same kink they decided to go for it.

“Yesss, please kumkani. Cum inside me,” Ashanti said as she locked her legs around his waist.

The king’s thrusts picked up the pace, elevating them both to their highs. The tension rose in their bodies, Ashanti scrambling to hold him closer, and T’Challa struggling to contain his strength so as not to cause real damage. When the dams broke, their bodies shook violently and he filled her up while she spilled all over him. He slowly thrusted into her as his dick continued to pump her pussy full of him. His thrusts slowed to a stop as she came down from her climax. He leaned back and opened his mouth and let a glob of spit fall onto her clit before lightly rubbing it in with his thumb.

“T’Challaaaaa!” she whined, feeling overwhelmed. He smirked and stopped, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead then her nose, then her lips. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he said as he continued to lightly kiss around her face and neck. Her legs still hadn't let him go, so his hips churned inside her very slowly, grinding just enough to keep her turned on but not enough to over stimulate her. “You just can’t let me go, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” she pulled him to her soft lips, only allowing them to slightly graze each other. “You feel too good.” She whined.

“Oh I do? You love when I’m deep in that pussy, don't you? You want me in there all the time? Want me to slut you out whenever I fucking feel like it?”

“Mmmm, yes kumkani.”

“Good girl. Now let me go baby, I’m not done with you.”

“T’Cha-” She was cut off by a deadly glare. “Kumkani, my pussy is tired.”

“I know kitten, this will help her feel better.”

Ashanti slowly unraveled her legs and moaned as his dick slowly left her, pulling on her clit and her g-spot on the way out. The emptiness she felt was soon replaced by the feeling of his copious amounts of cum dripping from her hole. 

T’Challa moaned at the sight then leaned in for a taste, causing Ashanti to gasp unexpectedly. His tongue moved up and down her pussy, collecting his cum and spreading it all over. He sucked on her clit and his fingers slowly found their way inside her to rub on her spot before his finger and tongue switched. He tongue fucked her walls while his thumb strummed her clit lazily, her legs twitching on every upstroke . His moans of pleasure pushed her further to her climax and when he started slurping his cum out of her pussy she lost it, body convulsing and cumming all over his chin. He slurped up their combined fluids and brought his lips to hers, transferring their cum to her mouth for her to taste. She swallowed and stared into his eyes, bottom lip between her teeth. He rolled over beside her and they faced each other. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You already won't be walking tomorrow, but I can make it a week,” T’Challa warned and the two broke out into laughter.

“Wow, just...that was...wow,” Ashanti said, still processing what just happened.

“Is something wrong? Was I too rou-” Ashanti shut him up with a kiss.

“It was amazing. And oh my Bast, you are nasty as fuck.”

T’Challa chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, dear.”

Ashanti stilled then looked up at him in fear and arousal, both of which were made worse by the bloodthirsty look on his face. 

“What else are you into?”

The two lovers laid there and talked for hours, only pausing for a brief moment while Ashanti went to the bathroom. They talked about their kinks and exploring more together. They spoke about their futures, their bucket lists, their families, and more. The conversation veered from comical to serious to heart wrenching to seductive all within the span of a few hours.

They eventually fell asleep with T’Challa’s strong arms wrapped around Ashanti’s waist, just like the last time they slept in each other’s arms and hopefully just like all the times they’ll lay together in the future. 

Our love

Your love

On me

Our love

My love

In you

Our love

Your love

On me

Our love

My love

Ooh!

(Did you ever think that, maybe

Maybe it's destiny?

Maybe it's destiny that brought us together)

Next Chapter

[prompt-master]

Anon asked: Yo what about Hank being sick and totally unaware of his surroundings, and the day his fever breaks is the first time Hank realizes it’s been Connor taking care of him all this while

Have you ever walked into a sauna when it's already been on for a good while? That sudden slap in the face of concrete thick heat, and without the slow build up the 115 degrees of steam feels more like a dessert that you fell into. That's how Hank felt right now. He could barely breathe through the heat, so hot he couldn't even tell if he was sweating anymore. He walked in a daze, mouth open and trying to breathe in any semblance of fresh air but instead he walked into a wall.

Oh god it felt so nice and cool though. He pressed his cheek against the wall, shut his eyes, and slowly sank to the ground. His vision was in waves. The dizziness didn't help either, just spots and colors dancing across his blurry vision. It made his headache worse. He thought he was going to throw up for the first time. Or third time? He threw up a lot today right? Right? He looked down at his shaking hands through his fucked up vision and raised an eyebrow confused at them. What the fuck was shaking him?

He stared at his hands for a bit, then blinked back up at his surroundings. Was he underwater? Because everything was blurry, and his hearing was cloudy. He tried to remember what he was doing. He probably wanted a beer but...he felt warm and dizzy. Maybe he was just straight wasted at the bar?

He stood up again, mumbling about how the bar has a lot of furniture like the stuff in his house. He was about to walk straight into the dining room table when two hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. But only Sumo was home.

"Sumo...when...Sumo when did you grow arms?" He stumbled on his feet, through lidded eyes he saw a blurry figure trying to steady him. He thought the figure was talking but it was a blocked out echo to his ears.

"You...you don't SOUND like Sumo though. Actually...your voice is annoying..s-so-" he cut himself off by coughing, having to curl up in on himself as he did. His chest hurt so damn much. The hands were on his back now, trying to guide him away.

"Wow. This sofa...is just like mine..." He said as he was pushed to lay down, "small world" without reallt understanding what was going on he shut his eyes. More concerned with how exhausted really felt.

"Lieutenant Anderson please, you're scaring me." Connor said in a small voice, eyes focused on the feverish face of Hank. He found Hank stumbling around his house completely out of it. He'd been out of work with a cold for a few days so Connor decided to take a break and check in on him. If he knew it was this bad he would have checked in much earlier...

Hank looked up at the LED on the side of Connor's head, staring at it blankly. He focused on the red light for a bit, watching how in his funky vision the ring of light grew and shrunk in weird patterns. After a bit of focus he said, "...why's the TV off?"

"Lieutenant, it's me, Connor. Can you hear me?" Connor frowned, putting a hand to Hank's BURNING cheek. He scanned his temperature to be around 103.4 degrees. He had to lower the fever before it got to hospital levels.

That dazed look kept coming. No response at all and something about that scared Connor to death. That lost expression was so WRONG on Lieutenant Anderson. He patted his face, but he didn't do much besides roll his head away from his hand. Connor frowned and stood up, "Stay here Hank."

He ran into the bathroom for fever reducers, then wet a washcloth in cold water. He placed it on Hank's forehead, but instead of getting relief like he expected Hank kicked and thrashed away from it.

"F-fuck that's...ugh that's cold..!" Hank tossed it off. Connor put it right back, "stop.."

"It's for your own good Hank" he was scared to have him take the medicine when he was so delirious. So he'd wait on that.

"Are you more coherent now Lieutenant?"

Hank still looked confused though, blinking up at Connor slowly. Like...

"Do you know what's going on?"

Oh god. Humans aren't supposed to break like this. He can't fix this with a simple rewiring or new part. "Hank come on...Hank answer me. You're scaring me Hank."

Nothing. Connor felt tears prick at his eyes, "come on Hank this isn't funny. It's me Connor."

"Please be ok Hank..."

It was up to him to help Hank.

For hours he had to keep the man from suddenly getting up and just leaving. He had no idea who Connor was or where he was. He'd forget whatever he could hear. It was terrible. His fever was so bad sometimes he was barely able to move, panting listlessly on the couch.

It wasn't until 3 AM that Hank was starting to come back to himself. He woke up from a nap. This time clarity grew in his vision when he saw the LED, "...Connor?"

"...Lieutenant? You're with me?"

"What happened..." His throat felt dry.

Connor looked worried sick, "you've been very feverish." He pressed a hand to his face, "But don't worry. It's lowering now." He handed him two pills and a glass of water, ready to go, "take these and go back to sleep, I'll take care of you"

"You've been watching after me?"

Connor nodded, still looking shaken up.

Hank smiled and ruffled his hair, "You're the best Connor...thank you so much."

Connor gave a bright smile.

[sandjob]

Dream journals!

I’m writing two, this one is kind of ridiculous. 1/2

This is the dream from tonight... I asked K to help me be awake for my appointments today, and he did, fucking hell.

This one is a bit disjointed because I don’t remember pieces of it, but here we go...

It’s possible that I might be moving in with my two RL friends, I’ll call them D and P. They’re fantastic people. However... This was not entirely unbelievable at first.

I was laying in the back yard on the first night of moving in with my two friends. I was in a sleeping bag next to the garage, watching the fire works because it was some kind of holiday. Suddenly, a large stuffed doll goes shooting by, attached to a zipline. 

I start laughing, realizing that it is completely absurd and that P had gotten over excited decorating for the holiday and it was just some sort of decoration, similar to those ghosts people have that dart around through the trees on Halloween.

A second stuffed creature goes shooting by. A large, baby blue stuffed bear. I start laughing hysterically, and shout something like “HEY, P, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING MADMAN.” towards the house. 

The bear comes loose from the zip line and launches into the sky, and at this point I realize that it is large. Impossibly large. It is a Huge God Damn Bear. It sails majestically into the sky, and despite the fact that I am dreading what will happen when it comes down and where it will land, I cannot stop laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. The bear explodes.

Thousands of massive chunks of fluff and blue bear come tumbling down from the sky, slowly at first. I realize that it’s dangerous (seriously, that was a LOT of bear) and dive towards the side door of the garage as the first bits start to land around me. 

The garage has some kind of skylight, and is much bigger than I originally thought from the outside. It’s like some kind of ware house. The skylight and a few panels on the wall are made of the same white fiberglass looking material, and as I hear the first chunks of the bear start slamming down onto the roof, it occurs to me that I can see the falling bear bits extremely clearly, but not anything else outside. The garage is well lit. I pray that the bear pieces aren’t heavy enough to make the roof collapse.

The floor starts shaking, and a hole forms. All of the falling pieces are being drawn into it like some kind of vacuum, reforming before my eyes. I’m fucking shocked at this point, and realize that I’m about to fight a Giant Stuffed Bear for some fucking reason. My weird dream failsafe kicks in and I realize that I’m having a dream.

I decide not to wake up yet, now that I’m sort of kind of lucid. A giant stuffed bear is literally one of the least scary things I’ve dealt with in a dream, and waking up seems like such a waste. I am dimly aware that I could just... light it on fire. I begin walking toward the bear with my hand outstretched.

I can’t stop thinking about the fact that shooting fire from my palm isn’t realistic at all, and is literally a thing I’ve NEVER managed to do in a dream, lucid or not... Yet I have some kind of feeling that it will work. I remember thinking something like “what is he gonna do, kill me?” really sarcastically. The flames that shoot from my hand are kind of pathetic, but pick up as I realize I CAN do it after all. The bear is incinerated and I turn and walk out of the garage before it even finishes burning.

------------

The dream fail safe is some sort of thing that happens almost every time that I start having a bad dream... I had a lot of bad dreams when I was younger, so I began forcing myself awake as soon as bad things started to happen. Nothing in real life happened that was as bad as in my dreams. Not that bad things didn’t happen, just... 

After plummeting to the ground so many times, it’s hard to not eventually start waking myself up, I guess.

Now I become just barely lucid enough to realize I’m dreaming and decide how to stop it, although I still have almost no control over the dream itself. I’m just... aware.

------------

Now I’m in a house, it’s D and P’s house. It’s also a house I’ve been in before in another dream, I only realize after I wake up. It’s in a more finished state, but it was B’s (not spirit B, different B) childhood home, where I had the dream about the needles and the hoodie. Not as menacing as it sounds. The house feels sort of weird to me, like nostalgic but sad.

I’m not sure what’s going on, but people from a server I’m in on discord are there. It’s a server centered around spirit work. It’s not the one I run, it belongs to someone else. I, V and C are there. I’ve been hiding K from V.

K and I are standing in the bathroom. He’s not a physical person this time, he’s the way he usually is when I’m awake. I can hear V talking outside the door, and the lights are off. The room is dimly lit by light coming in from the door, which is sort of yellowish. I can’t see through the door itself because it is made of some sort of frosted glass.

The bathroom seems unfinished, it’s just a room of tan tiles with nothing but a bar on the wall (handicap accessible?) and a bunch of steam. It’s kind of like being in a sauna but it isn’t hot at all... It feels a bit like the steam left over from after a quick shower. 

I get the feeling that we’re standing in the bathroom so we can avoid everyone, because I don’t feel like I need to use the bathroom but I don’t want to leave. K is behind me with his arms around me, like he sometimes does. It sounds like V is ranting to I about something that happened, but it’s nothing unusual so I didn’t try too hard to hear what they were saying. I was just sort of... minding my own business in there for some reason.

K starts kissing the back of my neck and I make a noise. V and I stop talking outside and I cover my mouth, but they’ve already heard me. V starts asking loudly what I’m doing, in... that way that he does. I don’t want him to know that K is in here, because I don’t want him to know about K. K is indifferent to him and ignores him. I woke up.

TL:DR - My new roommate destroys us all with some kind of stuffed bear apocalypse. I can’t sleep and I can’t fucking wake up. Making out in the bathroom is a Poor Choice.

[moreracquetball]

Whizvin for the ship thing

(ahhh four people asked for this one)

-who cries when someone dies in a movie

W h i z z e r. Tbh, despite his very cold, detached demeanor, he is a /huge/ crier at movies - at touching moments, at sad moments, at happy endings. It bemuses Marvin to no end like “Why are you crying this time? I specifically got a movie that literally nobody died in??” “Marvin, he remembered how long it takes her to order a sandwich. You don’t even remember my middle name.” What I’m also trying to say is that Whizzer isn’t afraid to show his emotions and weird things will set him off and under all that scathing wit he is honestly such a sweetheart.

-who wears the ugly holiday garb

Marvin. He just gets so disgustingly festive, and he only wears these old, ratty garb that he’s had for years and years. Whizzer just stares blankly at him like, “how could I have ever found this man attractive?” but then at the end of the day, when Marvin shamelessly strips naked to get ready for bed Whizzer thinks, “oh yeah, now I remember.”

-who pays for the meals

Marvin, literally every single time. It makes him feel more like a provider and like “a man” and the internalized ideal annoys Whizzer but Whizzer is cheap so liiikkkee as far as Whizzer is concerned, Marvin can keep this annoying habit of idealized masculinity. 

-who slams the oven door and who plays the trombone

(when Jason isn’t home…) Whizzer - oven; Marvin - trombone

-who brings home stray animals

Marvin. He pretends to be gruff and detached about it like “the stupid cat wouldn’t leave me alone. It just kept following me around.” but Whizzer totally saw him on the street through the apartment window thirty minutes earlier trying to lure that gross, mangey cat over to him by pinching off pieces of bread and cooing after it and Whizzer does not want pets but like damn Marvin worked hard to get that stupid cat to adore him and now the cat literally does follow him everywhere he goes.

-who leaves the bathroom door open

Whizzer. He has no boundaries

-who tells the ‘dad jokes’

M a r v i n. Are you even kidding me????????

-who wants kids more

Whizzer. (lol i might have actually wrote a oneshot about this specific situation that I abandoned halfway).

-who travels more

Whizzer. He has dozens of developed and undeveloped film of when he would backpack it around the country in his early to mid twenties. He loves change and new experiences.

-who spends more cash

Whizzer. He also spends more credit and debit and yikes, Marvin knows when his bills came in the mail bc suddenly Whizzer starts acting very doey-eyed and sweet and cute as if that will blind Marvin from those debts in his bank account balance

-who buys the things in infomercials

Whizzer. After that third glass of wine, Marvin suddenly has to find somewhere to put the sauna pants and chia pets and that limited edition ALF-inspired dog bowl for a pet they do not have. 

-who draws in the dust on their cars

Whizzer draws in the dust of Marvin’s car. But he always writes stuff like in the back window where Marvin never looks so it’s like “honk if you’re queer. I need a date.” and “who divorced his wife, left his kid, and made his boyfriend clean the dishes even though it was clearly his turn? THIS ASSHOLE.” One time, out of curiosity and boredom, Whizzer wrote Marvin’s actual phone number in the dust with the instruction: say hot milk and then hang up. Marvin thought he was losing his mind all day that day.

-who starts the snowball fights

They never really know who starts them but yeah, any time there’s snow, it always inevitably ends in an hour-long fight that leaves both men snow-covered, red-faced, and irrationally both angry and just so madly in love with each other

-who throws away the directions to things

Marvin. “After all, my name’s Marvin, and I am soooo smart. I don’t need directions.” “Whizzer, cut it out. I do not sound like that. Now just - help me, please? I think I almost got it working…” *Marvin pulls a wire and the entire power for the apartment building goes out* “….not another word.”

-who puts up holiday decor

Marvin. He’s like - obnoxiously festive, esp for like Halloween. Whizzer pretends to only tolerate it but tbh he loves when Marvin is happy and excited about these kind of things.

-who is more likely to forget to bathe

Marvin. But Whizzer is adamant on reminding him

-who gets more obsessed about things

Whizzer. He def with through all the weird fads - tamagotchis, disco, pet rocks, etc. But then he forgets about them like a week later.

-who sings in the shower more often

Marvin. Sometimes, and don’t you dare tell Marvin this or Whizzer would literally kill you Whizzer plops down on the floor and places his ear to the closed bathroom door, closing his eyes and listening to his lover’s melodic, soothing voice. 

[because-cur-non]

Top 5 scenes/ moments/ sections of dialogue from RF?

I’m gonna answer this under a cut!

1) Mulligan with Hamilton in loco parentis (I love Mulligan.  I love Mulligan having his shit together more than these kids.  Someday I’ll do a bonus thing of when Hamilton was staying with him.  This is honestly maybe my favorite scene in the whole damn thing because I just love Mulligan so much.)

Mulligan was silent while he composed a message neutral enough to sound like it could have come from anyone and sent it.  He pocketed Hamilton’s phone and let him sit quietly for the rest of the ride.  He paid the driver, led the way into his building, and let them into the apartment.  It sounded like one of his flatmates was in his room but otherwise they were alone.  Hamilton dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed face-down on the sofa.

“I hate this,” he moaned.

“We’ll sort it out.  Take off that jacket, the sleeves are too long for you.  I’m gonna hem ‘em while we wait to hear back from ‘im.”

Hamilton dropped the jacket on the ground without getting up.  Mulligan sighed and picked it up, taking it over to the sewing machine on the table.

“Like raising a friggin’ five year old…”

“Fuck off.”

“You gonna throw a tantrum?”

Hamilton raised one hand to flip him off.

“I can’t think, Mulligan,” Hamilton complained as the machine whirred.  “Me.”

“Thanks for implyin’ the rest of us are a buncha idiots,” Mulligan said, his back to him as he worked.

“You know what I mean.”

“So you forgot your keys, big deal.  Said you were sleep deprived anyway.  Too much fuckin’ on vacation?”

“Just once.  Wasn’t that.  That didn’t help.”

Mulligan didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for Hamilton to start up again.

“Maybe I am sick,” he finally said, turning his head to the back of the couch and touching his face.  “He said I felt hot.  I get sick every winter anyway, fuck winter.”  He struggled to take out his dry contacts.  “That must be it.”

“Lovesick, maybe.”  The machine stopped and Mulligan inspected his work, looking over just in time to see Hamilton reach over the armrest and drop the contacts to the carpet.  “Oh, come on, I don’t spit on your floor.”

Hamilton left his arm hanging and Mulligan dropped the jacket on top of him.

“Try that when you’re done whining and tell me how it is.”

“‘Kay.”

“You done whining?”

“No.”

“I’m getting a beer.  I’d offer you one, but it’s illegal to give alcohol to children.”

“You’re a jackass.”

Mulligan came back into the room, popping the tab on a can of beer.  “You’re being a baby.”

“I fucking lost my work keys and I can’t get into my apartment!”

“That’s not what you’re really complaining about, Hamilton.  I might not be a hotshot genius like you, but I’m not a moron.  Move your legs over.”  Mulligan sat heavily on the couch next to him.  “You like the guy?”

“Yeah.”  Hamilton’s voice was heavily muffled by the couch cushions.

“You like him a lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Things get a little too real spending that much time with him?”

Hamilton paused.  “Yeah.”

Mulligan patted his leg.  “Suck it up,” he said sympathetically.

2) CVS (First, this is the start of the islands/ocean theme. Second, look at these boys, this is back before they’re all over each other, that hand on the shoulder was Intimate.  Someday I’ll also go through and pull things to show the progression of their sleeping habits.)

Laurens pulled him down, running his thumb over his high cheekbones and then his fingers through his hair.  “You’re gonna get wrinkles,” he teased, “you’ll turn gray.”

“I’d be a silver fox,” Hamilton replied.  “All the girls’ll be lining up at my door.”

“‘Girls’?”

“Yeah, I banned you after you made fun of my hair.” Hamilton rolled away from Laurens onto his back.  “It’s like a sauna in the city at this time of year.  I’m melting.”

“I thought you’d be used to it.”

“Trade winds.”  Hamilton waved one hand dismissively in the air above his face.  “And not all of this cement for the heat to just bake you in.”

Laurens propped himself up on his elbow, watching Hamilton’s face.

“I bet winter was a surprise.”

“Ha.  Yeah.  I stepped off that plane and—d’you know what, John?  I saw autumn leaves for the first time in my life.  Squirrels.  CVS, for chrissake.  All this shit that I had this image of in my mind because of course I knew about it, I’d seen it everywhere, and that’s the thing, isn’t it?  No one in New York cares if I went to Gore’s of St. Croix, but I’ve got CVS already engrained somewhere in me and it’s beautiful, the flow of power.  Soft power, John, recognize our maps and naturalize our flora and fauna and without even realizing it your center of balance is off.”

Laurens was quiet and Hamilton tucked his hands behind his head.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“You’re right, four hours isn’t enough.  I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s not true.”

Hamilton closed his eyes.  Laurens waited for a minute to see if he would say anything else, then lay down once he heard his breathing slow, putting one hand on his shoulder in spite of the heat.

3) Inappropriate sick flirting (Okay this isn’t like a CLASSY option or anything, but I crack myself up every time with Hamilton’s attempt to deflect-by-flirting here and I’m a sucker for sickfic, so.  Shrug.)

Laurens, like Lafayette, woke before his alarm.  He had gotten up late that night to take his headphones off and close his laptop, and then alternated between dozing and playing on his phone for a few hours, not willing to wake Hamilton if he was so soundly asleep.  It wasn’t until he heard the second coughing fit that he got up and pulled on a pair of pants.

“Alex?”  He knocked on the bathroom door.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  He sounded a little strangled.

“Are you sick?”

Hamilton started coughing again.  “I’m fine,” he repeated after a minute.

“Alex, come back to bed.  Do you need something to drink?”

“I have water.”  Laurens could hear him put the mug down on the side of the sink for emphasis.  “And my laptop.  I’m fine.  Go back to sleep.  I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I’m awake now.”  Laurens tried the handle but it was locked.

“I don’t want to make you—”  Hamilton cut himself off, clearing his throat and taking a drink.

“I thought you said you weren’t sick.”

“Said I was fine.”

Laurens sighed.  “Look, if I’m going to get sick the damage is already done.  I have to go in an hour.  Just come back out.  I feel weird talking to you through a door.”

There was a pause, then Hamilton opened the door and stepped out, all false-casualness in sweatpants and a pullover, taking a sip from a university mug.  “Hey, J.  You’re up, I’m up.  What’re the odds.  Wanna fuck?”

Laurens gave him an incredulous look.  “No.”

4) Masculinity (Would you believe I wrote all this shit about gender before thinking critically about gender in my own life?  Like, jeez, it’s one of Hamilton’s main recurring issues and the one I always identified with the most.  Anyway, it was a toss up between this and the argument he has with Laurens at the end of the chapter, but it’s the same deal really.)

“What did I say wrong?”  Lafayette asked.  “I didn’t mean anything bad.  I was teased a lot too, you know, but I’m happy for the two of you.  I like being in a relationship like that.  The closeness, the cuddling…”

“Yeah,” Hamilton said sharply and more directly than he meant to, “‘cause you’re not being treated like the freakin’ girl!”

Lafayette looked at him in surprise and Hamilton, embarrassed, turned away.

“Shit,” he said, walking towards the platform.  “Don’t tell him I said that.  I didn’t mean it like that.”

“John doesn’t think of you as a girl.”

“I know that.”

“Well, if you know that…”

Hamilton didn’t say anything.

“Do you think other people see you that way?”

“Fuck other people.  How should I know what they think?”

“You would make a very bad girl,” Lafayette said.

“Shut up.”

“I don’t think anyone sees it like that except for you.  John certainly doesn’t.”

“I know—look, fine,” Hamilton said, accepting that he was just going to be that annoying guy having a fight on the subway.  He dug a quarter out of his pocket and tossed it into a street performer’s open guitar case to try and balance his karma out.  “So he doesn’t, great.  I feel bad, okay?  I know he doesn’t—I like when—It’s just the way other people react sometimes.  Like I’m…”  Hamilton paused, gesturing helplessly as he tried to find the words.  “…Less than him.  Like with his friends, I liked that on the whole, it was great, I’m glad he had a good time and they were chill.  But there were a couple moments where it was like they were almost making fun of me.”

“They teased me, too,” Lafayette protested.

“Bully for you.”  Hamilton saw Lafayette’s hand twitch towards his pocket and he sighed.  “Go ahead, write that one down.  It’s dated, that’s probably why you haven’t heard it yet.”

Lafayette tucked the box under his arm then took out his notebook and copied the phrase out.

“I know it’s stupid,” Hamilton said, making an effort to lower his voice.  “It shouldn’t matter.  There’s nothing ‘feminine’ about it and even if there was, that’s not a bad thing.  But it’s weird, okay, and I don’t like it.  It’s not about being with him,” he went on after a pause in which they both waited as the train loudly pulled up.  “I just hate being made to feel like less of a man for it.”

Lafayette cocked his head to the side, considering this.  They got into a car and took hold of a pole near the door.

“Fucking bullshit heteronormativity,” Hamilton complained as the car pulled away, taking a step to the side for balance.  “Gender doesn’t function in a void, Lafayette.  In a perfect world none of this would matter and also I’d live in an apartment that didn’t leak heat during the winter.”

Neither of them said anything as the car rattled along to its next stop.

“You know what’s extra bullshit,” Hamilton started up again as the train stopped.  “I fucked him today.  I should be the one getting all the accolades.  Instead it’s just, oh, look at the little guy, he’s so cute.  Bullshit,” he muttered again, tugging his scarf down.  “Doesn’t always bother me,” he added.  “I dunno, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.  Wasn’t even the tone.  I don’t know.”

“I think you’re very masculine.”

“Thanks.”  Hamilton still sounded sullen.

5) Out (Is it weird to say that I consider this part “a classic”?  This is the thing that got me by far the most amount of comments and, I mean, Laurens earned it.)

“God damn,” Humphreys complained, freshly dressed and sitting next to Laurens on the bench between the rows of lockers and working at a knot in his neck.  He tipped his head to the side so that fine braids slid like a curtain over his hand.  “Don’t get me wrong, Laurens, I don’t want to blow my shoulder out, but you don’t even know how much shit I would have gotten into if I had gotten a month and a half off.”

“Dirty shit,” Tench laughed.  “Go back to your farm, find some of those sheep?”

“Shut up,” Humphreys said, laughing as well.  “That was a business plan.”

“Yeah, the oldest business in the world.  Sam, catch.”  Another player walking by caught his wallet without missing a beat.  “I owe you ten.”  The money was taken and the wallet was tossed back.  Tench dropped it in his bag.

“Anyway, like I was saying, it’s not that I envy you, just those extra six weeks.”

“I hear you,” Tallmadge agreed, coming back from the shower in just a towel.  “It’s hard to visit my girlfriend during the week.  It takes so long to drive down, it’s really only possible on the weekend, but then, okay, so we can’t fool around as much as I’d like.  Not that I’m actually ready for the monastery like our boy Laurens,” he teased, shoving Laurens playfully as he opened his locker.  “How’re you holding up?  I’d have assumed you just weren’t interested if I hadn’t had to listen to you for all these years.”

“Sainthood’s a real lonely road,” Tench added.

“Hey, come on,” Laurens protested, not really thinking about what he was saying, “My boyfriend’s all over me too, I know what it’s like.”

There was actually a moment of stunned silence in the locker room during which time Laurens braced for—

“You aren’t single?  Hey, look, it only took five years!  That means there’s still hope for you yet,” Tallmadge said loudly, slapping a passing first year, the younger of the two Trumbull brothers, hard on the back.  “If you bitch about not getting a date one more time, I’m not stopping your older brother from whaling on you.”

Laurens watched in relieved surprise as various conversations picked back up around him.

“That explains why you haven’t gotten any personal fouls so far this season,” Tench teased him.

“So can we know who it is yet?  Or is it still a secret?”  Tallmadge dropped his towel to change, facing his locker.  “I want to know who tamed the stallion.”

“‘The stallion’?”  Humphreys was packing his bag.  “Oh, come on, and I’m stuck with the sheep?”

“You wrote that paper, you brought this upon yourself,” McHenry said, breaking away from his earlier conversation and pushing up his glasses.  “So who’s the lucky gent?  I’m with Tallmadge, he deserves a Goddamn medal for finally wearing you down.”

“Alex,” Laurens started, caught between embarrassed and incredibly grateful.  “Alexander Hamilton.”

“Hamilton…  The guy with you at the trustee dinner?  Short,” Tench said, gesturing his height.  “Wavy hair?  We went to André’s after.”

“That guy?”  McHenry cut in.  He tugged at the collar to his shirt and glanced down at himself, feeling the tag sticking out in the front.  “Shit.”  His voice was muffled for a second as he pulled it off over his head, flashing well-defined abs and two faint scars curving under his chest, then put it back on.  “He works for the dean, doesn’t he?”

“Secretary to the president,” Laurens said, tentatively bragging a little.

“I thought he was with your roommate?”

“André’s his friend, he said that was just a rumor.”

“Obviously,” Tench rolled his eyes at Tallmadge.  “Know-it-all.”

“Hey, André,” Humphreys called as André, also in a towel and with his hair wet and down in his eyes, showed up.  “Did you know Laurens’ been holding out on us?”

“Uh.”  André looked quickly at Laurens, who stood up.

“All right, all right, that’s enough.”

“So how is it?”  Tench asked, ignoring Laurens’ protests.  “Does he just want it all the time?”

“What?”

“You said he was all over you,” Tench pushed.  “Did you have to give up your rule?”

Laurens reddened slightly.  “No.”

“What?  So, nothing?  Not at all?”

“All season?”  Tallmadge asked.  “I take it back, he’s the saint, not you.”

“Wait, you did fuck though, didn’t you?  You were together at the dinner, right?”

Laurens, still standing, not sure what was really stopping him from just walking away, felt an excited rush of camaraderie.  “Yeah, we were, and we did.  The night before,” he added before he managed to second guess himself and lose his nerve, “I fucked him so good he cried.”

Another shocked silence, then a delighted whoop of laughter.

“That’s our boy!”  Tallmadge pounded Laurens on the back as he grinned, simultaneously self-conscious and proud.

“Damn,” Humphreys shook his head.  “And here I thought we were going to need to give you a talk about the birds and the bees before you graduated and got sent out into the real world.”

“Maybe we still do,” Tench said.  “Laurens, let me make this brief: you’re a moron.”

Laurens frowned, unsure.  “What?”

“You said it yourself, he’s all over you.  Go take advantage of that opportunity, man!  You’ve waited long enough.”

“I had sex in high school,” Laurens protested weakly.

“Yeah, you know, you told some of us that story,” McHenry pointed out, “and while it sounded like a real great time, half a decade has passed in between.”

“He’s pretty cute,” Tallmadge agreed as Laurens stared at him in disbelief.  “Long eyelashes.”

“Since…  Since when do you check out other guys?”

“Relax, please, I sat next to him in lecture once.  I remember because they friggin’ cast shadows on his face.”

“Uh-huh,” Laurens said, not sure at all about what to do with that.

“You do want to sleep with him, don’t you?”  McHenry asked.  “This isn’t another basil farm incident, is it?”

Laurens looked over at André, who studied the ceiling.

“No, uh,” Laurens said eloquently.  “The sex is—it’s good.  I enjoy it.”

“Then go fuck your boyfriend,” Tench told him, a little louder than Laurens would have preferred.  “Seriously, Laurens!  Did you hit your head when you ripped your shoulder out of its socket?  He wants to, you want to, that grand tradition you thought you were holding to is a bunch of bullshit—no one actually does it.  If you’re so concerned about your stamina then don’t sleep with him the night before the game!  Jesus!”

“His girlfriend’s on study abroad,” André reminded Laurens, nodding his head at Tench.

“Right.”

“Lucky son of a bitch,” Tench muttered, zipping up his bag forcefully and slinging it over his shoulders as he stood.  “Right, I’m starving.  You getting breakfast, Laurens?”

Laurens smiled.  “Sure.  Sounds good.”

[rowdywarrior85]

STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: WHEELERS VS HARGROVES (PART 1)

STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: WHEELERS VS HARGROVES

[DISCLAIMER: This story in purely fan-fiction, meaning I own no rights to the show STRANGER THINGS, its episodes or characters. Basically, this story is my interpretation of the show, its episodes or characters. Forewarning, there will be descriptions of violence (sometimes graphic), adult content and language; if you have kids under 17 reading this story, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Either way, hope you enjoy it. This story takes place between Season 3-Episode 4: THE SAUNA TEST.]

(We open to a fogged-up mirror, a washcloth is wiped across to clear a reflection, and the man in the mirror is none other than Hawkins’ residential bad boy, Billy Hargrove, who just came out of the shower. NO ONE LIKE YOU by Scorpions drops in the background and it drops hard. Billy spends the intro guitar solo in the bathroom; blowing his nose, blow-drying his hair, cleaning out his ears, brushing his teeth and takes a quick shave. Then, he wraps a towel around his waist and strolls in his room. As he lights up a cigarette, the first verse starts up. He slips on a pair of boxers under his towel, drops a pair of denim jeans on his bed, followed by a navy short-sleeved dress-shirt. Satisfied with his choice of wardrobe, the towel flies off, then by the second verse, he slips on a pair of socks and a white tank top, which is odd since Billy doesn’t wear anything under his dress-shirts. Billy proceeds to don his jeans and dress-shirt, followed by his boots. As the chorus kicks in, he sprays his hair for a little extra volume. Then slaps cologne on his wrists, along his neckline and of course, below the belt. He grabs a black leather jacket, slips it on and takes one last look in the mirror, giving himself a confident look.)

BILLY: (whispers) Look out, Karen. Here comes trouble.

(As he tosses a smooch and a wink at himself, he opens the door to make his “date” with Karen Wheeler, Mike and Nancy’s mom. But, he’s met by his stepmother, Susan Mayfield-Hargrove, about to knock on his door. Third verse kick in.)

BILLY: (sigh) Susan.

SUSAN: I was gonna ask you what you wanted for dinner, but it looks like you got plans. Big date tonight?

BILLY: (clicks tongue with a wink) Bingo.

SUSAN: Um, is that a tank top under your shirt? This is a first.

(Billy passes by Susan as he makes for the front, hoping to God he isn’t stopped by his asshole father, Neil Hargrove.)

BILLY: Yeah, well, this one is special.

NEIL: Gee, I wonder how special.

(Billy is stopped by Neil’s stern voice. Billy’s smile slowly drops to a tense, tight lip as he looks to his left to see his father leaning on the frame that leads to the kitchen, drinking a can of beer with an equally stern look on his face.)

BILLY: More than you can ever understand, Dad.

NEIL: Oh, really? What’s this “special” date’s name?

(Neil asked that question to Billy with the intention that he knows exactly who the “lucky lady” is. Billy inhales deep, exhales as he looks to a concerned Susan, who’s afraid of another spat between Father and son. Billy turns back to his father.)

BILLY: Don’t wait up for me.

(Neil’s eyebrow starts to rise in agitation as Billy continues for the door.)

NEIL: HEY!

(Billy stops at the door.)

SUSAN: Neil, don’t.

NEIL: No, I wanna know the name of his “special” date, or else he can just forget about going altogether. WELL, WHO THE FUCK IS SHE, BILLY?!

(Billy turns to his dad with a hint of anger.)

BILLY: Why the fuck do you care, huh?

(Both Neil’s eyebrows are raised high at Billy’s snap by the second chorus.)

She’s just another whore in Hawkins to you, anyway.

(Billy opens door.)

RIGHT, NEIL!?!

(Billy slams the door shut, which by now infuriates Neil.)

NEIL: Son of a BITCH!!!

(Neil storms out after his “ungrateful” son. Susan tries to stop him, but to no avail.

SUSAN: Neil, just let it go. NEIL!!

(Billy storms into his blue Camaro, with Neil in hot pursuit.)

NEIL: BILLY! YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT CAR!!

(Billy starts the engine, but Neil jumps in front of the car.)

YOU SHUT THAT OFF AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW, BILLY HARGROVE, OR YOU’RE FUCKING GROUNDED! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME!?!

(As the first half of the main guitar solo starts, Billy stares at his dad, then turns to a scared Susan, then turns right back to Neil.)

BILLY, I’D THINK THIS THROUGH, IF I WERE YOU!

(Billy went to a timid look to a stern, angry look as he revs the engine hard on the second half of the guitar solo.)

Oh, don’t you even think about it, you little shit.

SUSAN: Neil, please get out of the road!

(Neil keeps his eyes fixed on Billy, while he points a finger at Susan.)

NEIL: Relax, Susan, he’s bluffing. He’s not gonna do shit. Are ya, you son of a…

(Neil leans forward.)

…whore.

(By the end of the solo, Billy flares his nostrils in a rage, drops into DRIVE, and peels out, spooking Neil out of the way.)

JESUS!!!

(Billy’s Camaro zooms out of Cherry Road, with Neil throwing his beer down the street at Billy’s direction, screaming with rage.)

THAT’S IT!!!! YOU’RE GROUNDED!!! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU FUCK!!!! YOU’RE GROUNDED FOR THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL FUCKING LIFE!!!!

(Susan runs after him, trying to quiet him down.)

SUSAN: Jesus, Neil. You’ll wake up the whole damn neighborhood. What if they call the police?

NEIL: The police, Susan, Jesus. Who in this neighborhood, let alone this whole fucking town has the balls to call the police on me? Huh?

(Neil storms back into the house, pissed to infinity. All the while, Susan becomes more frightened what’s about to come.)

Pick up my fucking beer off the street while you’re out there.

(PRESENT DAY. Mike, Lucas, Will, El and Max stroll up in their bikes to the Hawkins Community Pool staking out for Billy. All of them, especially Max fear that he may be chosen by the reawakened Mind Flayer.)

MIKE: OK, so where is he?

MAX: He’s usually in by noon.

LUCAS: Well, it’s 5 minutes to noon. He should be up and running for work soon.

MAX: Oh, shit.

WILL: What, do you see him?

MAX: No, somebody much worse than Billy.

(They see a tan Ford pickup truck roaring into the pool parking lot. Max is horrified, for she knows exactly who it is.)

It’s my fucking step-dad, Neil.

LUCAS: Oh, that’s just perfect.

EL: Is it… bad?

(Max looks to El with concern.)

LUCAS: Let’s put it to you this way, El. You know what a mouth-breather is, right?

(El nods in affirmation.)

Well, from what Max told us, he’s a Class A mouth-breather. Believe me, I know, I’ve seen it first hand. Not to mention, he’s also a racist and a homophobe straight outta Vietnam.

MIKE: Long story, El, he’s a sadistic piece of shit.

EL: Piece of shit?

WILL: He makes MY dad look like a cream puff. I mean, coming from a divorced background myself, don’t get me wrong, I can’t help but feel sorry for him.

(The Party look awkwardly at Will.)

Billy, I mean. I’ve literally been where he is, if the Mind Flayer’s turned him, I mean.

(The Party look back to the pickup.)

MAX: (heavy sigh) I’m more concerned what Neil’s gonna do.

(Max looks through the binoculars, and she sees that he’s drinking from a flask, which does not bode well for Max.)

And worse, looks like he’s drinking. Guess it’s bad between him and Billy.

(We switch to inside the pickup, where Neil is formulating his plan, while downing Bourbon from his flask. Susan looks on to Neil, scared out of her mind.)

SUSAN: Neil, what exactly are we doing at the pool? I didn’t even bring my swimsuit.

NEIL: Isn’t it obvious, Susan? Billy’s behavior of late is fucking disturbing, more than most. His car isn’t in front of the house, where it’s supposed to be.

SUSAN: He’s stayed out late before.

NEIL: (takes a swig) Not like this.

(Susan looks at Neil with fear and concern.)

SUSAN: Hitting that kinda hard lately, have you?

NEIL: Don’t you worry about me, alright? It’s Billy that should be worried right now. Have you also noticed that Wheeler bitch isn’t with the rest of the Mom Squad?

SUSAN: So?

(Neil takes another swig, then gives an obvious look to Susan.)

(Scoffs) Oh my God. You’re not suggesting that Billy and Mrs. Wheeler were… are…

NEIL: It can’t be anymore obvious than that.

SUSAN: Neil, that’s ridiculous. There’s no proof of that.

NEIL: Please, I’ve been by the pool from time to time. The way he looks at her, the way SHE looks at him. They even talk to each other.

SUSAN: So they talk…

NEIL: FOR NEARLY 5 MINUTES, maybe more. Well this is gone far enough, I’m ending this right now.

(Neil prepares to exit the truck.)

SUSAN: Let’s go.

NEIL: No, you stay in the truck until I get back.

(Neil opens his truck door.)

SUSAN: Neil, I’m not letting you go out there alone, so you can make a scene.

NEIL: STAY IN THE TRUCK, SUSAN. I shouldn’t take long.

(Neil slams his truck door hard, takes another swig then make his way into the pool, while Susan looks on in fear. As he makes his way pass the entrance, the receptionist spots him sporting his flask in his back pocket and tries to take action.)

RECEPTIONIST: Excuse me, sir. You need to sign in if you want to enter the pool.

(Receptionist goes after him, then proceeds to put his right hand on Neil’s left shoulder.)

And another thing, there are no alcoholic containers of any kind allowed in the…

(Neil turns to the receptionist, swats his hand off his shoulder with the left hand, then lands a right cross decking him, knocking him to the ground with a bloody nose. Susan looks on with timidity.)

SUSAN: Ah, shit.

(Even the Mom Squad see this atrocity and fear the worst. While Susan gets out of the truck to tend to the busted-up receptionist, Neil spots the Mom Squad and saunders over with the intent of getting some answers.)

LIZ (BRUNETTE): Oh shit, Hargrove Rex is headin’ right for us.

MOM #2(BLONDIE): That’s never good. You don’t think he’s here about Billy, is he?

JILL(HEAVY): What are we gonna do?

LIZ: (picks up a COSMOPOLITAN magazine) Just act natural, ladies. It’s probably nothing.

JILL: Seriously?

LIZ: (through her teeth) Just… act… natural.

(Neil then approaches the Mom Squad.)

NEIL: Ladies.

BLONDIE: If you’re looking for your son, sir, he’s still in the bathroom, prepping for work.

NEIL: Billy’s the least of my worries right now. I couldn’t help but noticed one of your “crew” is MIA. Wheeler, is it? So, um, any of you… ladies… know where she is?

LIZ: Spa.

BLONDIE: Shopping.

JILL: Movie.

(Neil leans in between Blondie and Liz.)

NEIL: Well, which… one… is it?

(Jill starts hyperventilating, Neil turns to Jill, Liz prompting Jill not to say shit. Neil raises an eyebrow.)

JILL: (rapidly) LOOK, KAREN’S NOT HERE, OK! SHE CALLED US, SAYING SHE WASN’T FEELING LIKE A POOL DAY TODAY. SO SHE DECIDED TO SAY HOME!! (deep inhale and exhale)

NEIL: (Eyes on Jill) Thank you, ladies. Enjoy your day.

(Neil makes for the men’s room.)

LIZ: You just can’t keep your mouth shut for 5 minutes, you weak-ass fuck.

JILL: I’m sorry, girls. But that guy just scares the shit out of me.

BLONDIE: Honey, that man scares the shit out of pretty much the whole town.

LIZ: God save that boy.

(In the men’s room, a bench has a beach towel, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a ball cap with aviator sunglasses and a Zippo lighter. Billy is finishing applying SPF 50 on his body on account of the Mind Flayer inhabiting him. He then wraps a beach towel, and puts on a white long-sleeved shirt, then puts on his flip-flops. He grabs the bottle of SPF 50, and puts it in his locker. Suddenly, Neil slams the locker door shut, Billy doesn’t even flinch.)

NEIL: We need to talk.

(Billy doesn’t even acknowledge him, he makes his way to the sinks to wash his hands.)

Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ walk away from me, son.

(Billy looks to the mirror whilst washing his hands, he sees his father glaring at him, continuing to berate his son.)

Your behavior of late has been unacceptable. First, you try to run me down, which is surprising coming from you, and your car isn’t in front of the house. You either abandoned it or fucked it up. And another thing, this “special date” of yours couple nights ago, I think I know she is. Do you think for one second, that I’m stupid. I’ve been by the pool a couple times, I see the way you look at that Wheeler whore, and the way she looks at you. So what, all the teenage pussy is not enough for you, so you graduate to mommy pussy, is that it?

(Neil closes in to Billy’s right ear. Neil’s voice starts to distort.)

Or maybe, just maybe, you like her simply because she reminds of a certain somebody you lost as a child. Somebody that was TOO CHICKENSHIT TO COME AND RESCUE YOUR FAGGOT ASS…

(Neil lays his left hand on his right shoulder. Billy’s eyes widen, then grabs his hand, torques his arm, grabs his head and slams his head on the edge of the sink, breaking the sink in the process. Billy looks solemnly down to Neil on the floor, disoriented, head bleeding. Neil tries to crawl away, not believing what’s happening. Billy then grabs Neil’s left arm and steps on his head, preparing to kill him.)

(groaning) Billy, don’t do this. I’m your father, for fuck’s sakes!

(Billy looks at his busted up father with this blank, emotionless face.)

BILLY!!!!

(Billy viciously pulls on the arm while his foot is on the head, breaking Neil’s neck. Snap to black.)

(Echoing) Billy?

(Snap back to reality. Billy continues to stare at the mirror, while Neil tries to speak to him.)

Billy, you gonna fuckin’ answer me or not?

(Billy turns away from his father to grab his cap with his frames and lighter, then proceeds to make for the exit to get to work AKA keep up appearances. But Neil isn’t having it, he follows him with haste.)

Son of a bitch. Billy Hargrove, you fuckin’ answer me RIGHT NOW, OR…

(Billy suddenly turns toward him.)

BILLY: (roars) OR WHAT!?!

(Neil stops in surprise. Billy walks towards him with wide, crazy eyes.)

(low voice) What are gonna do, Neil?

(Billy and Neil are now face to face, toe to toe.)

What… are you going…. to do? What?

HEATHER: Is there a problem, gentlemen?

(Neil looks around Billy, and sees Heather in the same get-up with two large cherry Slurpees. Billy’s eyes go normal but still on Neil.)

BILLY: Cool as ice, Heather. My dad here was just leaving. Right, Neil?

NEIL: (quiet scoff) You’re wasting my time, anyway.

(Neil shoulder checks Billy before leaving, letting him know that it’s not over, like Billy cares at this point. Neil gives a slight glare at Heather as he walks out the door. Heather walks up to Billy, handing him his Slurpee.)

HEATHER: Shall we add him to the collective?

BILLY: No, we have enough. The end will come for him.

(Billy takes a sip from his Slurpee. We get a closeup on his “flayed” eyes.)

The end will come for them all.

(Neil storms out of the bathroom, and makes his way to the pool’s exit. At the receptionists’ office, Susan is tending to the receptionists’ broken nose.)

NEIL: Susan, let’s go. NOW!!!

RECEPTIONIST: (groaning) For the record, your husband’s a dick.

SUSAN: I know, I’m so sorry.

(Neil and Susan get into the truck, then proceed to exit the parking lot aggressively.)

LIZ: They’re leaving.

JILL: Not what?

BLONDIE: We need to warn Karen about what’s about to go down, all because you couldn’t shut up.

JILL: I said I was sorry. Jesus.

LIZ: There’s a phone in the office. Everybody follow me, and walk fast.

(Outside the pool, the Party observe on what’s going on.)

LUCAS: What the hell’s the Mom Squad doin’?

MIKE: I don’t know. When it comes to Moms, you never know.

MAX: Guys, shut up. Target in sight.

(The Party see Billy exiting the bathroom and mounting his post. Meanwhile, Neil driving like a bat out of Hell for the Wheeler residence.)

SUSAN: So, what happened?

NEIL: You mean, “what didn’t happened”? Time to do what I should’ve done at the beginning. End the problem at the source.

SUSAN: You’re not thinking of heading to the Wheelers?

NEIL: Goddamn right.

(Susan is now way frightened on what’s going to happen.)

SUSAN: Look, Neil. I know you’re going to object to this, but… maybe I should “take point” this time.

NEIL: (takes another swig out of his flask) Out of the question.

SUSAN: Look, Neil. You have enough booze in your system, just let me handle this. Cuz if you go in there, you’ll go tearing the place apart just to get your answers, causing a massive commotion, at that point somebody’s gonna call the cops. 10 minutes, that’s all I need, 10 minutes.

NEIL: 5. 5 minutes. After that…

(turns to Susan)

I do it my way.

(Meanwhile at the Wheeler residence on Maple Street, Nancy Wheeler and her mom, Karen just finished their heart-to-heart, wiping away their tears. But somehow, Nancy wasn’t quite finished.)

NANCY: Mom, if I ask you something, would you tell me the truth?

KAREN: (walks to the sink) Of course, honey.

NANCY: I came home from the first day of work a few nights ago, and I found your ring in the bathroom.

(Karen becomes alert.)

Something you want to talk to me about? Just us girls.

KAREN: Well, maybe I took it off to wash my hands, and probably forgot to put it back on.

NANCY: Mom, for as long as I can remember, you NEVER took your ring off.

KAREN: (turns to Nancy) Nancy, I don’t know your implying here…

NANCY: Mom, you gave me that talk for a reason, even put in an “I” in there like your just been through something. Plus, you wear makeup to the pool, which is odd, unless you…

(Just then, it dawned on Nancy, and turned to her mom.)

Oh, Mom. Don’t tell me you’ve been hitting on that California douchebag, Billy.

KAREN: Of course not.

(Nancy leers at her mom like she isn’t being honest.)

It’s been actually both ways, if I’m being honest.

NANCY: Oh, my God.

KAREN: What can I say, Nancy? He’s beautiful.

NANCY: OH, MY GOD.

KAREN: Look, Nancy, try to understand. Ever since he walked to my door looking for his step-sister last year…

(deep sigh)

…he looked like, something out of a dream, or right out of a romance novel. I thought to myself, “THANK GOD”.

NANCY: Yeah. Mike once told me he damn near beat Steve half to death because of Max “last year”.

KAREN: Oh, boys will be boys. You should know that by now.

(Nancy scoffs)

Did you know that he asked me out on a date a couple days ago.

NANCY: SHUT… UP!

KAREN: I know, right? Just caught me by surprise, and to be honest, I actually wanted him to.

NANCY: Well, you didn’t agree to it, did you?

(Before Karen could answer, the patriarch of the Wheeler family, Ted, strolls on in with younger daughter, Holly.)

TED: Hi, honey. Holly and I had an interesting time at the mall, the food court has this…

(Ted notices Nancy is home early.)

Oh, Nancy. You’re home early. Did I miss anything?

KAREN: Girl talk.

NANCY: I just got fired.

TED: Oh… well, just got to live and learn, I suppose.

(Both ladies give Ted a livid look.)

Come on, Holly. Let’s see what’s on TV.

(Karen and Nancy turn their attention back to each other.)

KAREN: Now do you see what I have to put up with, every single day?

(Unbeknownst to the ladies, Ted is quietly eavesdropping, while Holly is mesmerized by MY LITTLE PONY on the TV.)

You have no idea what it’s like, being married to same, boring person for the past 20 years. To not feel appreciated, to be stuck in a continuous rut.

(As Karen continued her lament, Nancy was reminded of the event of her life that occurred 2 years ago when she lost her best friend, Barbara Holland, all because she wanted to prove that she could make it with Steve Harrington.)

When Billy asked me out, I thought to myself that this is my chance. This one chance to be the woman I wanted to be, if only for one night. I wanted to scream “Yes, Billy. Take me, I’m yours”. But, just when I was about to walk out my door that night, I noticed Ted asleep on the recliner with Holly. And it just hits me,…

(voice breaking) I just couldn’t do it. Not without breaking your father’s heart, or Holly’s, or Mike’s, or yours.

(Just then, the doorbell rings.)

TED: I’ll get it.

KAREN: (clears throat) Thanks.

NANCY: Mom, I get it. You’re unhappy with your marriage, but still it’s no excuse to throw it all away for Billy, of all people.

KAREN: You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the same thing?

NANCY: I already did. Once. Back when I was with Steve.

(Karen instantly knew what Nancy meant.)

KAREN: Barb?

(Nancy nods, trying to hold back the tears of that fateful night.)

NANCY: (sniffs, voice breaking) To this day, I keep thinking to myself. If I wasn’t trying to be something I’m knew I wasn’t, if I had just left that party with her, she’d still be here, you know. I miss her so much, even now.

KAREN: Still, would you ever get with Billy if you had the chance?

NANCY: If I didn’t have my morals and/or Jonathan…

(Karen is waiting in anticipation.)

…probably, yeah. If you had, Dad would be blown away from his recliner, not to mention Mike would have a cow. But, I’m glad you didn’t go through with that date. Besides, I hear his dad’s a complete and utter psychopath.

SUSAN: You’re not wrong there.

(Karen and Nancy turn to the hallway to find Ted along with Susan.)