#the whiplash of listening to ST after some time not doing it is. hm.

[moonchild-in-blue]

So let's get swallowed whole

I want to go where nobody else will ever go

[stachmousworld]

P*$$y fairy (Hot Smut) P.1

Pairing: Steve rogers x WOC original character

Tag: Daddy kink, vaginal fingering, virginity loss (blood), oral sex, consensual all the way through.

Part 2 

“No,” she said categorically.

“Please…pretty please…” Julie begged her best friend.

“No. You are out of your mind. I won’t do it.”

Julie took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to invoke this, but…do you remember the life or death experience from march?”

Her bestfriend sent her a death glare.

“On all the shit you could use this, you chose this one?”

Julie nodded vehemently. She plumped her lower lip and opened her big blue eyes. She knew that her bestfriend wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Argh! Ok! Stop looking at me like that!” She said, throwing her hands in the air. “What I wouldn’t do for my so-called friend.”

Juliet jumped into her arms and thanked her.

“I let you prepare yourself. My stepdad is a little bit nervous. So be prepared.”

She rolled her eyes and gave her best smile. Julie grimaced.

“You won’t fuck it up on purpose, right? Because he really likes you and he loves talking to you about these boring things.”

Her best friend plopped on the couch. She reveled in the compliments. She, also, loved to discuss with Steve. He was as smart as handsome and could debate for hours. If he wasn’t Julie’s stepdad, she’d totally go for him.

“Why would I do that, Julie?” She asked, her voice laying thick on sarcasm.

Julie glared at her.

“I know I should have never asked you to do that,” she muttered, leaving the room

“After tonight, we’re even!” She screamed, cackling like a hyena. “Finally, even,” she repeated in a mutter.

 It took her a few minutes to get prepared. She chose a regular outfit. Tight little red dress with short heels. Julie’s stepdad was quite tall, but she didn’t want to have sore feet before the end of the night. She shook her head and patted her wig. She had chosen a burgundy one and had curled the long hair. She looked gorgeous if she did say so herself. She shook her head enjoying the feeling of the silky hair on her back.

It didn’t take long before Julie’s stepdad rang at the door. She took her jacket, her bag and opened the door. Mister Rogers looked…too handsome to be real. He had trimmed his full beard, she remarked, out loud. His entire face relaxed. He let out a chuckle.

“What else have I changed, miss?”

She smiled recognizing the competition.

“Your hair is longer, and you didn’t dye them. You don’t where your contacts today.” He looked briefly shocked. A small smile appeared on his face. “You normally don’t wear anything that “posh” so that’s a win for me. It looks good on you. Dark blue makes your eyes pop more.”

Mister Rogers licked his lip slowly, then smiled again. It’s weird how she could notice more details from him because she was attracted to him. She didn’t want to freak him out, so she’d just focus on the more obvious.

“Can we stay in your apartment just one second?” he asked out of the blue.

She opened her mouth to question him but thought otherwise. She pushed herself out of the way and let him in.

 He was standing there, in the middle of her living room, looking out of place. The blue of his suit clashed with the warm colors in her apartment, but he didn’t care. No. He seemed perfectly at in his element.

“Do you need to go to the toil –”

“Shhh” he ordered her softly. “Do you remember Julie’s 21st birthday?”

She unconsciously took a step back as memories flooded her mind. Some parts were hazy and others more like a living fantasy. She didn’t remember taking anything, no alcohol nor drugs, that’s for sure. So, there was no way what happened was real. It had been a vivid, extremely vivid dream.

“Yeah?”

Mister Rogers unbuttoned his vest and laid it on the armchair. He sat down and crossed his leg. He was gazing at her, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Do you remember what happened between us?”

“Between us?” She repeatedly dumbly.

He nodded patiently. Slowly drumming on his ankle.

“I don’t…what happened?” She preferred asking. It had been a vivid dream. Nothing had been real she reassured herself.

“Julie was having a party downstairs, and everyone was partying, drinking and enjoying their night, right?”

“Hm.” Her breathing grew shallower.

“Yep. I was upstairs in my bedroom, minding my own business when you can in my room. Your face was as red as a beetroot. I thought you were having an allergic reaction.”

She frowned. She had no memories of that.

“I came to you, helped you out. You were stuttering something about an important issue,” he chuckled. “I asked you what that had to do with me…”

 Memories came as he talked.

 “But you don’t understand, Mister Rogers! I��m going to die a virgin,” she pouted, unashamed. She was high on adrenaline and felt braver than she’d ever think.

Mister Rogers – Steve smiled and shook his head, amused.

“Isn’t that a tad dramatic? Even for you?”

“And what I’m supposed to do?”

Steve moved around the room, tidying as he walked through.  

“Finding a boy who’ll love you and make love to you.”

She grimaced and grunted.

“That’s going to take forever. Plus, boys my age don’t know shit about sex. It’s ‘oh a vagina, let me put my dick in it.’ and a few seconds later they cum and you’re still dry as fuck and they don’t care about that because, ‘women should be wet all the time’ or my favorite response ‘It’s not my problem’.” She flopped on his bed and laid there, sighing deeply. “I’m going to die a virgin.”

Steve started laughing surprising her. She raised her head and smiled softly.

“That’s not funny…” She grumbled.

Steve took a look at her and laughed some more.

“Mister Rogers! This is a really serious matter.”

“Ok, ok I stop.” He raised his hands in mock defense. “But you have to understand that for me, a man of the wrong side of 30, it’s kind of hilarious that your main worry in life is losing your virginity.” He made his way toward her and sat next to her. “You have your entire life to get it figured it out. I don’t want you to rush things up. Like you said, boys your age don’t really think about giving.”

She frowned not liking at all the paternal tone. She didn’t want to wait many more years. She wanted to have sex right now. Her eyes grew wide. Right now. Parties were a good way to have sex so Julie said.

“Why do I know you didn’t listen jack shit of what I just said?” He sighed.

“Thank you, mister Rogers! But I gotta go.” She jumped off the bed and quickly made her way to the door.

“Wait!” She stopped. “What are you going to do, exactly?”

She spun around. “Have sex. Parties are known to have horny people. I’m sure I’d find someone to sleep with me. Easy peasy.”

Steve who had been laughing a few minutes ago was dead serious. He looked reprobative and the frown on his face wasn’t reassuring.

“That’s exactly the opposite of what I told you to do.”

“Yeah, and?” She kept glancing behind her as if the horny people would disappear in a minute.

“You will regret it.”

“And?” She pressed him.

“It’s supposed to be –.”

“I’m going to cut you right there, Mister Rogers. I don’t care at this point. I want an orgasm or two. That’s it.”

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is unbelievable. Are you drunk?” She shook her head. “Baked?” Another shook.

Steve stood up. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “God forgive me.” He looked at his feet, then at her. “I can’t in all fairness let you have some maybe unprotected sex with a knucklehead, who’s going to cum in a few seconds and leave you dry.”

She blushed at his crudity.

“You shouldn’t blush. Those are the words you used.”

She tried to explain herself but failed miserably.

“I’m going to propose something. Instead of sleeping with someone you don’t know, I’ll do it.”

She choked on her saliva. Her nostrils burned as her saliva went through them. She wiped her nose hastily.

“What do you mean by I’ll do it?” She had to make sure she heard it right.

“I’ll fuck you” The blush intensified. Steve smirked mischievously. “I’ll put my erection in your wet vagina. I’ll put my dick in your greedy hole and fill you up quite nicely.”

She shuffled her feet trying to not cross her legs and be obvious. There was an aching between her legs. It was both familiar and yet unfamiliar. She was used to being horny but the emptiness inside of her had never felt so awful.

“You don’t have to be this crude,” she repeated weakly.

Steve walked slowly toward her. His eyes never left hers.

“Why? Do you think those frat boys would be more polite?” He stood a few feet from her. “No. They’d treat you like a whore, manhandle you. And if you find the wrong one, he’ll make sure to tell his friends about your little pussy.” His voice grew deeper. “And I’d have to beat the hell out of these boys.” He approached until her face collided with his broad chest. “But we don’t want that right?”

“N-no.”

“Good. Have you ever seen a dick before?”

The change of subject gave her whiplash.

“No.” He took a few steps backward and sat on the bed legs open.

“Come and work for it, then.”

She walked a little unsure of what to do. Did he want her to suck him or jerk him off?

She kneeled in front of him and unbuttoned his jeans. First surprise was that he was soft but long. The tip was a pretty pinkish. She rolled her fingers around the shaft and slowly moved. Steve hissed. Her head snapped up.

“Keep going, baby girl. Take your time and do whatever you think could feel good. But no teeth.”

“Oh, and I thought I could bite it off,” she joked.

Before Steve could reply she sucked the tip. Her tongue rolled around the bulbous head, tasting a drop of precum. She hummed, finally relaxing. She swallowed more of his dick, making sure to hide her teeth. 

The tip hit the back of the throat. She moaned and kept going past her gag reflex, until she was nuzzled on his pubic. She cleared her throat, making him moaned loudly. 

He gripped the sheets next to him. She slowly bobbed her throat enjoying his growing thickness in her mouth. Her eyes rolled back as he was fully erected. She couldn’t deepthroat him anymore and mourned the feeling of his hair on her face.

His carnal scent made her dizzy.

With one hand she rolled and squeezed his balls and with the other she jerked him off. She bobbed her head faster, as his groans grew louder.

“God, what a mouth…” he hissed. He placed a hand on her head and fucked her mouth. She closed her eyes, mouth agape, barely breathing. He forced his length inside her throat making her gag. Her eyes watered.

He finally let go of her when she was on the verge to faint. He slapped his wet dick onto her cheeks, avoiding her stretched tongue.

“That’ll be for later. I guess.” He pushed grabbed her and laid her on the bed. She let him do, still not believing she had sucked her bff stepdad. When she came back to herself, Steve had already taken care of his clothes and hers. He was between her legs, caressing the apex of her thighs. She moaned, pushing her hip onto his face.

“I thought you would never come back to yourself.”

“First time sucking a dick, so…” she said, voice a little hoarse.

Steve smiled. “And you did amazing. I would have cum in your mouth, but the night is young.”

She keened at the praise.

“But now you got your fill, I’ll need to prepare you,” he said, before diving in. She almost jerked away when she felt his tongue around her clit. The sensation felt unfamiliar yet so tantalizing.

She dropped back and rolled her hip on his face. Steve pressed her hips on the mattress and ravaged her. His tongue was lapping, circling her clit with extreme precision. He sucked on her clit like a popsicle. Pleasure washed over her rendering her boneless.

Steve moaned around her clit.

“Mister Rogers!” She screamed, as her orgasm approached.

Steve stopped. She whined and tried to push his head back. He laughed patting her hands out. He used his fingers to rub her clit. Briefly. So brief, she wasn’t even sure he did it.

One long finger slid in. She gaped, back arching. He was so deep. Deeper than her fingers could have been.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” He muttered, on the skin of her thigh. He pressed a few kisses. A second finger got in quite easily. Her body went laxed, before tensing. He had crooked his fingers and hit…God…it was so good. She fucked herself on his fingers enjoying their callosity and thickness.

Steve chuckled. “If I had known you were that greedy, I would have started earlier.”

“Tol’ ya,” she gasped.

A third one came in. She tensed feeling a bit too stretched.

“I’m bigger than that baby girl.” He groaned. “I can’t wait to see my dick stretching you out. Just for me.”

He went back to sucking her clit. The sudden onslaught and pleasure rushing through her veins relaxed her. She could hear the watery noise from her pussy. She pressed her legs around his head and pushed him into her. Steve didn’t push her this time and accepted.

Out of the sudden, Steve crooked is fingers making a wince. She was about to tell him when she felt a spark of pleasure erupting from her pussy. She grabbed her chest, dazed. Steve pressed into her sweet spot, hitting it every time.

She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t stay focus.

Her orgasm uncoiled suddenly after a particular brutal thrust. Her entire body spasmed on the bed. She couldn’t help herself but moan, whine and call his name. 

It took a few minutes hour or days for she knew to come back to reality. Her body was sensitive and yet, she wasn’t really satiated.

“Here,” he said, bringing a straw to her mouth. She raised her head and sipped. The first one was at least as orgasmic as what had happened. Between sucking Steve’s dick and being fingerfucked within an inch of her life, her throat felt like sandpaper.

“Delicious.” She smacked her lips a few times enjoying the cold water. She sipped some more finishing the glass.

“I know. There is nothing orgasmic than water when you are thirsty.”

She hummed, eyes closed, enjoying being naked on satin sheets.

 The bed dipped. Steve opened her legs and laid on her. He pressed some kisses on her face before kissing her mouth. He bit her lower tongue and plunge his tongue inside. He grinded his erection on her slit. Sweet wet noises resonated in the room. She caressed his biceps to his back. She brought her legs around his, pressing them together.

Steve bit her tongue. She groaned.

“Sweet girl,” he complimented her. He rocked his hips against hers. “Saw you a few days ago, in that small shirt with nothing under.” He pinched her right nipple. “All I dreamt of was bending you and fuck you till you call me daddy.” He grazed her jaw with his teeth. “I dream everyday about my sweet baby girl, calling me daddy. And me, you know what I do?” She shook her head completely dazed. “I have your legs on my shoulders, while I pound MY sweet pussy until you try to push me away because it is too much. I make you come every time and you always end up bursting with my cum.”

He licked her lips, thrusting his tongue in. He played with hers in a sloppy kiss. She didn’t even try to fight with him and let him take what he wanted. In a short conscious moment, she realized that she also dreamt of him. And maybe she had tried to attract his intention, but who cared right now.

 Steve sat on his haunches. He gripped his flushing erection slapping it on her clit and hole. He pretended to slip it in making her angry. She tried to push him in herself, but he slapped her hand away.

“Patience. I don’t want to rush it.” His tip got caught on the hole. “I wonder if you’ll put some red on my ledger?”

What? She didn’t have the time to ask that he pressed in. She immediately tensed. Steve tsked.

“My tip is barely in, baby girl.” He thrusted out then in. He got a little more in, but she was still tensed. “I thought you said you were ready? If you don’t want, we can still stop. Actually, we can stop even in the middle of it, it’s your choice.”

She blushed with embarrassment. She was ridiculous. It wasn’t supposed to go like that.

“Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s totally normal, that’s your first time. I’d be totally surprised if you’d be wide open, ready to take it like that. Do you want to continue?”

“Yes, please,” she asked, vulnerable. He smiled softly and kissed her forehead. He leaned forward, caging her with his arms.

“Focus on me,” he whispered, diving for kiss. As his tongue played with hers, she felt a pinch inside of her. She unconsciously tensed up. Steve placed a hand on her clit and rubbed it fast. His tongue battled with hers as pleasure and pain overwhelmed her.

She wanted to cry. She felt so full, so good, so stretched. Her eyes rolled back. His dick was so large and hard. She surely could feel him in her heart. God!

“That’s Steve or Daddy for you babe.” He groaned in her ear as pleasure took them both to new heights. “You are so good to me. So tight…I won’t be able to get enough of this.” He kept sliding deeper inside her. Tears ran down her face. How could he go that far inside of her.

“That’s okay, baby girl, I know it is overwhelming. Daddy’s dick fill you up quite nicely, isn’t?”

She cried some more. “So good.”

Steve kissed her nose. “I know. Now, it’s time to see something.” He slid out in a slow motion. He moaned her name and squeezed her hips hard. The emptiness disturbed her. She wanted him back in.

“Oh,” he said.

She raised her head and saw a hint of red around the crown of his dick. She frowned not understanding what was the problem. Steve raised an eyebrow and looked at her with awe. Oh. Realization dawned upon her. Her hymen had broken. Steve surged forward kissing her with renewed passion.

“God, you are mine now. All mine, baby girl.”

He pressed his erection onto her hole and slid right in. She felt a slight discomfort, but the overwhelming pleasure took over. He started thrusting.

“So tight…” He kept murmuring inside her ear. “Will fuck you all night, don’t worry. ‘be so sore tomorrow.”

She barely could breath anymore. His dick hit her sweet spot no matter what. The more she tried to make him slowdown a bit, the less he did.

She finally let go. He stood there above her, beard glistening with sweat and her juice, dark blue eyes peering on her. He slowed for a bit. 

She sighed in relief.

“Are you ready, for the grand final?” He whispered huskily.

She raised an eyebrow. The what now?

He chuckled darkly. His thrusts grew faster. She gripped the sheets around her to stay grounded.

“Fuck!” She screamed when his tip hit home. He grabbed her legs, bend them until they hit her chest. She was constricted and could barely move.

“Better like that…” he groaned to himself. “Deeper…hungry hole…”

He pressed harder her legs and started pounding her. It instantly knocked the breath out of her. His dick speared her to the limit and the bulbous head was now slamming against her spot.

She started seeing white spot. She blinked rapidly to stay conscious, but Steve wouldn’t fucking let go.

“Fuck, that pussy so good!” He screamed. His thrusts were now wilder.

She screwed her eyes and grimaced as her orgasm knocked her out. Steve kept thrusting inside her, not even slowing down. He bent to her ears and grunted. “Gonna come…fuck…so tight…”

A few thrusts later and he suddenly stilled inside her. She gasped as his semen coated her walls and automatically rolled her hips, milking him for some more.

She closed her eyes…

“So, do you remember, now?” Steve asked, still on the armchair.

Part 2

[chiefnooniensingh]

I Won’t Hesitate (For You) Chapter 6

Chapter 6: I can’t breathe (until you’re resting here with me)

In this chapter: We get a peak at the night of the murder. In the present day, things kick into high gear and Alex faces a few of his own demons.

a/n: This is one of my absolute favourite chapters. I reread this so often after finishing it just because I love it so much. I hope you'll like it as much as me!

As always, a special thanks to Aileen (@acomebackstory), Callie (@callieramics), @hm-arn, @royalshadowhunter, @ladymajavader and May (@merlinss) over on Tumblr for their continued support and cheerleading. I don't know if I would've finished it without you guys!

The title of last chapter was Linger by The Cranberries, guessed by hmd23! Congratulations!

Can anyone guess this week's title and performing artist?

Also on: ao3

other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

20th of October, 1953, somewhere between 3am and 5am.

Alex eyes snapped open. His heart was beating faster than it should, and for a moment he didn’t understand why he’d woken up feeling startled. Then it came back to him.

He’d been sure he’d heard someone yell out. The sensation had permeated straight through his uneasy dreams and had startled him awake. He scrambled for his pocket watch. 4:31am. Why in the world would anyone yell out in the middle of the night?

Half-groggy, but on high alert, Alex stumbled out of bed, his bad leg protesting heavily to the sudden weight put on it. Limping heavily, he made his way to the door, opened it a crack and peaked out. The corridor was dark and empty, the long-since extinguished lamps swaying lightly with the train’s movements. The certainty that he’d heard someone in distress fading with every passing second, Alex looked up and down the carriage. He looked down the long end, just in time to see a small figure slip into cabin number 4.

Perhaps that was all he heard; someone visiting the bathroom.

Deciding that his traumatized brain made a case from something that wasn’t anything, Alex closed the door, crawled back in bed and soon went back to sleep.

Present day, 21st of October, 1935

“Alex! Come in!” Maria DeLuca had opened the cabin door at his knock and her worried frown quickly changed to a lovely smile as she realized who was at the door. “My mother is resting; it’s been a very tiring day.”

Alex stepped inside the cabin, and indeed saw Mrs DeLuca asleep in her bed. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Ms DeLuca,” Alex said in a soft voice, as he took a seat next to the window. Maria took the seat next to him. “But I have some questions that I need answered.”

“Of course,” Maria said with a kind smile, “ask away.”

“Do you and your mother have identification on you?”

“Naturally.” Maria rummaged underneath her mother’s bed for a while, and produced two sets of identification papers, which he handed to Alex.

Alex copied all of it down in his notebook. “Maria DeLuca, 22 years of age, resident of New Orleans. Occupation…singer?”

“Quite famous, too! I’ve even got a record deal coming up! People line up for blocks to hear me sing every Mardi Gras.”

Alex nodded, slightly impressed. He resolved to look up some of her music upon returning to America. “Your mother’s name…Margaret DeLuca, resident of New Orleans, retired.” Maria nodded as she took the papers from him.

“I’ve seen her looking varying degrees of ill. Is there something wrong with her?”

Maria’s smile vanished abruptly. “We…we don’t know. She’s starting to lose bits of memories. Some days she’s as sharp as she used to be, then the next she’s convinced Rosa Ortecho is standing next to her, having entire conversations with her.”

“Your mother knew Rosa Ortecho?”

Maria nodded, tears filling her eyes. “The poor girl. My mom was the Ortecho’s house maid until a few weeks before the kidnap. My dad had gotten very sick and we had to move closer to a hospital that could help him, you see. When my mother read of the case, weeks after her body had already been discovered, something broke in her. She was still my loving mom, and she took good care of me even after my father died, but there was always a kind of sadness surrounding her.”

Motive, Alex wrote down, but in his mind, he doubted it. Mimi DeLuca was barely strong enough to lift a hand of cards, let alone plunge a knife into a man’s chest. Still, it was pertinent information. “How is it that you came to be on this exact train, the same train that the murderer was on?”

Maria looked desperately upset. “I don’t know! I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. The only logical answer is some cruel twist of fate!”

“And you don’t think you or your mother…?”

Maria’s dark eyes suddenly flashed angrily, and Alex saw, for the first time, that he was better off not underestimating this woman. “Are you suggesting I or my mother had anything to do with this horrid business? Because my mother is sick enough as it is, and planning a murder is certainly not on the top of our priority list!”

“Of course. I’m sorry I asked.” Maria kept her eyes narrowed at him for a while, and Alex felt another possibility for friendship slip away from him. But he wasn’t here to make friends, he reminded himself. He had to solve a murder. Whatever it took. “Where were you around 3AM, miss DeLuca?”

“Asleep. My mother woke at around 4 to request a glass of water from the conductor. I woke up briefly because of the scuffle, then fell asleep again. We did not hear about the murder until we arrived at the scene after everyone was already awake. I did not commit this murder, Mr Manes,” Maria said fiercely, “and neither did my mother. Frankly, I’m insulted you find us capable.”

Alex rose to his feet, having gathered all he needed right now and cast Maria a sad look. “Ma’am, in my line of business, I’ve learned that everyone is capable with enough motivation.”

With that, he left.

En route back to his own cabin, with every intention of having a lie down for a while, to really mull this case over, he ran straight into Michael. “Hey, you okay?” Michael asked once more, looking concerned this time.

I swear, Alex thought privately, this man is going to give me a whiplash. “This case is giving me a headache,” he said, instead.

“Can I help?”

“That’s very kind of you, Michael, but I – ” He was cut off by a sudden loud squealing sound, a violent lurch as the train suddenly braked hard and another crash as it came to a sudden stop. Alex, already very unsteady on his feet, fell right into Michael when the train started to brake, and the force of the crash caused them both to tumble to the floor. The noise was deafening, and instinctively, Alex buried his face in Michael’s chest and covered his ears. It was excruciating to listen to the screaming of the breaks, the thudding of luggage falling over all up and down the train and then the frightened yells and screams of the passengers.

And suddenly he was on the battlefield again. The air smelled of gunpowder, blood and death and everywhere around him, his brothers were dying. Alex was barely 20 years old and not in any way, shape or form prepared for the violence that was an actual war. Clinging tightly to his weapon, he waited till he heard the enemy’s fire subside, then emerged out of the trench and fired at his faceless foe. The more people died around him, the more he realized how futile it was. How many men had laid down their lives for the simple fact that the US government wanted control over Nicaraguan waters? But it was too late to turn back now. If he stopped shooting, he would die. And he did not want to die. He came up from the trench once more but had miscalculated. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, his knee in tatters and every nerve aflame. Michael’s face floated in front of him as he screamed in agony. “Alex,” he said softly. Alex smiled and reached out. “Alex. Alex!”

“Alex!” he heard Michael yell, and he felt two warm hands grab his face and pull him up. Alex gasped for breath as if he had been drowning and the reality of today came back to him in an instant. He wasn’t at war. He was on the Orient Express, which had apparently just crashed, and he was in Michael’s arms once more. Though nothing romantic was about to happen, for Michael was looking at him in alarm, scanning his face for injuries. Alex automatically did the same. Other than being severely startled, having had a pretty serious flashback, and having developed an even worse twinge in his leg, Alex didn’t think he was injured. Michael looked shaken, but otherwise unhurt as well. “You okay, love?” Michael asked softly, running his thumbs down Alex’s cheeks. Alex nodded.

“What the hell was that?” he said, his voice extremely shaky.

“I think we crashed. Come on, let’s get you up.” Michael helped Alex to his feet slowly, and when Alex put weight on his leg, it hurt less than he had expected. Thank goodness.

People were coming out of their cabins, looking ruffled and wide-eyed and some of them spotting some minor bruises or a split lip. Everyone seemed unharmed otherwise.

Michael looked at Alex again. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex murmured, who still felt pretty shaken up, “I just…had a flashback.”

Michael’s eyes flashed with understanding, and without hesitation, he dropped the tiniest of kisses on Alex forehead. Just a brush of the lips, but Alex felt it and a warmth surged through him. “After this is over, we’re going to have to catch up,” Michael said with a half-smile. Alex nodded in agreement, not voicing his very real fear of having to put Michael in jail.

Jesse Manes came bursting in through the door, looking quite the worse for wear, his mouth bleeding profusely. It looked as if he had slammed his face into something as the train crashed. “Is everyone alright?” he asked to the crowd in general, and, not waiting for an answer, he continued, “I need Dr Vale!”

Kyle came hurrying forward with his med kit, looking harassed. Behind him, Ms Beth’s arm was in a bandage. Raising an eyebrow at Director Manes’ less than impressive visage, he opened his case and rummaged in it. “Hurry up, won’t you?” Director Manes snapped, obviously forgetting he was not in the army anymore.

“Dad!” Alex said loudly, as Kyle stopped what he was doing and looked up slowly.

“Excuse me?” Kyle said softly.

Jesse Manes stilled, only now realizing his mistake. “Oh, I am so terribly – ”

“Mr Manes, you might be the Compagnie director, but these people are your passengers, who have paid for your services and your hospitality. Now I understand this day has been stressful, but I will not permit anyone to speak to me in that tone. If I hear you speak to me or any of the people on this train in that way again, I can guarantee you will never find work this side of the pond again. Do I make myself clear?”

Alex’s mouth dropped open, and he felt Michael’s shoulders shaking with barely controlled laughter even as he was still supporting Alex. There was a very tense silence, in which Alex watched his father go through several emotions including ‘murderous’ before landing on forced remorse. “Of course, Dr Vale. I forgot myself, my apologies. It’s been stressful, as you said. If you would be so kind, would you mind helping me stem the bleeding?” He was still bleeding rather profusely, and with the public dressing down he’d just received, he made a very pathetic sight indeed.

“That was the best thing I have ever seen in my entire life,” said Alex in a low voice and Michael snorted.

“Karma is a bitch,” Michael muttered, causing Alex to cough out a laugh. He looked at Michael, those piercing brown eyes filled with mirth, and felt his heart skip a beat. The man was still holding him upright, even though Alex was sure his leg was able to support his weight.

Just like 10 years ago, Michael was there to catch him if he fell. It had taken them a shockingly small amount of time to fall back in sync with each other. Alex opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say but wanting to talk, to touch, to really reconnect with Michael…but suddenly the outer door burst open and Beth screamed. Cold air blasted into the train, snowflakes bursting in from the cold and a large shadow exited the train into the snowy wild.

Without thinking, Alex took off.

“Alex, no!” he heard Michael yell from behind him, but Alex scarcely heard him. He was only vaguely aware of his leg protesting to this sudden sprint so soon after having taken the brunt of a very violent fall, but Alex had only one thought. Someone was running. The murderer was trying to escape.

It was freezing cold outside. Alex spared a glance to the front of the train, and his heart sank. They’d been about to pass through the Simplon Pass, but an avalanche had blocked the entrance; the Orient Express had rammed straight into the thickly packed snow.

They were stuck.

Alex’s gaze snapped around to the back of the train, where the escapee was still running. They were clothed in a big coat, making it hard to make out who this was. Alex tore after them, just as Michael jumped out to keep everyone else in. “Alex, be careful!” he yelled.

Alex called upon all the speed he’d built up in the army and sped up. No matter why this person was running, Alex couldn’t let them get away. “Stop!” he yelled, but it was useless. The wind was whistling around them both, and he only barely heard himself.

His knee protesting violently, Alex gave it everything he had and saw the distance between him and the escapee closing. The snowy landscape was hard to traverse, and they could barely see five feet in front of them, but Alex noticed the distinct change in landscape a few feet to the right; a ravine. And the other person was drawing very close to edge, Alex could already see snow beginning to crumble underneath their feet. “Careful!” he yelled. The other heard him, looked around, and lost their footing. “NO!” Without hesitation, Alex leaped for the person and pushed him away from the edge. The man – for Alex’d seen the glimpse of a beard – fell backwards, safely away from the edge, but Alex was less lucky. The snow was slipping underneath him, carrying him ever so slowly towards the edge. Oh, for the love of… He felt one foot already passing over the edge, and panic leapt into his throat. I don’t want to die, Alex thought frantically, as Michael’s face flashed before him, and he tried to scramble back up the slight slope.

“Mr Manes!” he heard, and the man jumped forward, trying to catch his hand. Their fingers touched, slipped and Alex began to slide in earnest.

“NO!” Alex was surprised that the yell hadn’t come from his own throat, but behind the man appeared Michael, like a god damn angel send from heaven. “Alex!” Michael lunged and grabbed Alex’s hand, just as Alex tipped over the edge. They both yelled in fear, but Alex felt a yank on his arm. Michael had gotten hold of him and had stayed his death a little longer. Not that it helped. Alex felt himself slowly falling again, and he saw the snow underneath Michael shifting again. Michael was slipping as well.

I’m gonna die, Alex realized. And he was taking Michael with him.

“Let go, Michael!” he yelled in a panic.

“No!” Michael looked panicked himself, but his grip remained firm as he tried to find footing. “And don’t you dare let go, Alexander Manes!” Then he directed himself to the guy behind him. “Grab my god damn legs!” he bellowed.

Alex couldn’t see what was happening. He stared up in Michael’s eyes, sure that if he was going to die, those were the last thing he ever wanted to see. “Michael,” he said softly, as he felt no change in his slow descent, “Michael, please.”

“NO!” Michael yelled, his voice cracking. “I’m not letting you go again, Alex! I don’t look away!”

“Michael, please!” Alex said, tears threatening in the corner of his eyes. “Please, don’t do this!”

Michael’s eyes were blazing with fury. “If you go, I’m going with you!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic, you two!” a third voice added, and Isobel Bracken-Evans’s face appeared over the edge. “We got you, we’re pulling you up!”

And miraculously, even as Alex hardly dared to believe it, they suddenly began to rise, Michael disappearing back over the edge, but never letting go of Alex’s hand. Alex’s free hand grabbed the edge when he could reach it and two pairs of hands appeared to grab hold of his arm.

Isobel and Kyle were there, pulling him up, while Mr Otto was pulling on Michael’s legs.

His heart pounding, Alex was pulled back on solid ground, away from the edge. When finally, finally, they were safely away, he collapsed, gasping with adrenaline, against Michael, who caught him and wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” Michael muttered against Alex’s temple.

Alex could only clutch to Michael’s jacket tightly, pressing his face in his chest as he tried to stave of the beginnings of a panic attack. All the horrible things that could’ve happened were flashing before his eyes. His own bloody, mangled body two hundred feet below on the snowy plains. Michael’s broken, lifeless body next to him.

“Michael, are you okay?” Alex barely registered Isobel’s soft voice as he inhaled Michael’s scent in an attempt to calm himself.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Other footsteps. Several shocked voices as they took in the scene before them. Alex aware that he and Michael were being far too affectionate around a far too unfamiliar crowd. But he didn’t have the strength to push away and stand up. He’d been at death’s doorstep. And he would’ve never gotten a chance to tell Michael all he wanted to – to make up, to apologize. Ten years, wasted, because they’d been so scared and cowardly.

“Michael.”

“I got you, private,” Michael whispers softly, his hands stroking Alex’s back. “You’re safe, you’re alive, I got you.”

“You really wouldn’t have let me go?” Alex finally gasped out, looking up at him. The world was slowly coming back into focus, and Michael was at its centre.

Michael smiled and the last bit of panic faded from Alex’s system. “I never look away, Alex. I told you before. I just found you again. I’ll never let you go again. And if that means following you over the edge of a damn cliff, so be it.”

“Jesus, Michael.”

“What the hell happened?!” Another voice joined the murmurs and Alex and Michael both looked up, the spell between them broken. The world was freezing again and he was alive and there was still a murderer in their midst and his father just appeared, looking disgustedly down at Alex and Michael. Alex could only imagine that he looked like his father’s worst nightmare; broken, teary-eyed, in the arms of another man. If only Alex could bring himself to give a fuck.

“Alex almost went over the edge,” Isobel said, stepping in front of Michael and Alex with her hands on her hips. “Michael saved him. They’re catching their breath.”

Jesse Manes blinked in surprise. “Did they at least catch the person who ran?”

The silence became rather frosty, a very impressive feat seeing as it was snowing. “Yes,” another voice said, “they did.” Everyone turned around. Arthur Otto stood next to his daughter, who was holding his arm and looking extremely stern. “Why did you run, papi?”

Jesse Manes didn’t wait for an answer. “Only a guilty man runs! I always knew to never trust your kind and I was right! I’m going to make sure you never see the sun again, you murderous spic!”

Alex was on his feet at once. The exhaustion, the pain in his knee, all but forgotten. “Shut up!” he yelled. Jesse became very still, a stance Alex still recognized as a first sign of trouble. “You are not in charge of this investigation, Mr Manes! I am, and you will not threaten anyone on this train while I am in charge, or you will be very sorry indeed!”

“How dare you speak to me in that tone?!” screamed Jesse Manes, getting into Alex’s face, any sense of where he was and who was surrounding him forgotten. Alex didn’t back down. “I am still your father, you ungrateful, arrogant piece of shit, and I will have respect!”

“Respect is earned, and you have done nothing in my entire life to earn it!” Alex yelled back.

“You have never done anything to warrant giving you respect!”

Dr Kyle stepped forward, looking extremely angry. “Your son is a decorated war hero!”

Jesse Manes didn’t even seem to hear him, he just raged on, with the air of a man who was finally letting out what he’d been holding back for years. “You didn’t even have the decency to be normal, you had to be a fucking faggot to boot! You are disappointing, disgusting, despicable – ”

It happened in a flash. Alex was pulling back his fist to plant it firmly in the face of the man who called himself his father, but Michael had beat him to the punch – literally. Alex hadn’t realized how strong Michael had become in the ten years since he last saw them, but Jesse Manes went down with a single blow. Alex was convinced he saw a tooth flying. “You can no longer speak to Alex that way, not as long as I have anything to say about it!”

Jesse Manes looked shocked at this turn of events. He was cradling his jaw and Alex was looking forward to seeing a bruise form there in the next few days. He looked up at Michael, his eyes flashing with the same hate he always reserved for Alex. “My, my, you’ve finally learned to throw a punch. Lucky for you I didn’t get your good hand last time, huh?” His eyes flicked down to Michael’s left hand and Alex saw it spasm violently.

“You’re a fucking child,” Michael spat, his voice dripping with disgust and hatred. “You think respect and control come from violence. Yet these people, the people Alex is investigating for murder, respect him more than they do you. You are nothing. You have always been nothing. The only difference was that you were stronger than either one of us. That has changed. Touch either one of us again, and you will be very sorry indeed.” He stepped forward, his fist raised, and Jesse Manes flinched violently.

“Michael!” Max Evans stepped forward, looking stricken. “Enough, man. He’s got the point, I think.”

To Alex’s surprise, Michael dropped his fist, his fingers unclenching, a sharp breath exploding from him. Then he turned to Alex. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, then immediately felt his knee give out. “On second thought, not so much.” He buckled and Michael caught him effortlessly. “Alright, now that that’s dealt with,” Alex said, casting a disdainful look at his father, still bleeding on the ground. “Mr Otto, I would like an explanation, if you please.”

Mr Otto looked extremely white from all the excitements, and his daughter nudged him hard in the ribs to get his attention. “Oh! Ah. Yes. Of course.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, when the train crashed, I knew it was my only chance to get away…”

“Aha! See, escaping the scene of the crime…!” Jesse Manes began.

“I swear to God, one more word out of you…” Michael snapped, who did not finish his sentence, but Director Manes got the point. He lapsed into grudging silence.

“Yes, to get away. But not to flee the scene of this crime.” He looked at Alex intently. “I did not murder that man, Mr Manes. But I overheard your father talking to one of the other staff one day…said he could only suspect me, as I am the only person who could’ve done it; the DeLuca women and Beth being too weak, and Dr Kyle having taken an oath. I ran because I knew if it was up to Jesse Manes, I would be convicted on the word of a racist white man. And I’d rather live out here in the middle of nowhere than go to prison as a Latino man.”

Alex sent his father an absolutely hateful look, but his father seemed unremorseful in his racism. Alex could murder him. “Alright, everybody inside, to the dining carriage. It’s getting too cold out here. Dr Kyle, if you would escort Mr Otto.”

Everyone started towards the train, leaving Manes in the snow. Michael supported Alex all the way, and Alex was glad off it. His leg was aching worse than ever, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to put his weight on it for a day or so. Michael carried him singlehandedly up the stairs and into the carriage, and they laughed about it for a moment, before continuing to the dining carriage, where it was, mercifully, warmer.

Beth was standing next to her father, her arms crossed, looking extremely cross with her father. “Alex!” she said, when she saw him, waving him over. He and Michael made their way to their table. “I want to apologize for my dad. He shouldn’t have run. He panicked, thinking Jesse Manes had maybe called in the cavalry to arrest him.” Next to her, her father nodded.

Alex sighed. “Look, I get it. My father is…yeah. But I have to consider all the facts…”

“Mr Manes, I swear my father couldn’t have done it. I was with him all night – ”

“Beth – ” Max Evans tried to step in, but Beth continued, without missing a beat.

“– after I came back from Max Evans’ – ” Alex registered Max relaxing slightly, “ – I was reading some medical journals for most of the night and checked on my father periodically because he has heart issues, and my father was asleep until we were awoken by Isobel, I swear!”

Alex glanced from her to Max for a second and saw their eyes jump to each other for a fraction of a second. Something was going on between the two of them, but Alex couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Beth’s story only barely held up under the lightest scrutiny. But even if she wasn’t telling the truth about seeing her father, at least her and Max’ story seemed to match up. And that covered her for the murder. His head was aching. He pinched the bridge of his nose and lights swam behind his eyelids. That couldn’t be good.

“Alex?” he heard Michael whisper.

“Mm,” Alex merely muttered. “Alright. Well, it seems that we are stuck here for a while. Nobody leaves this train without my supervision, is that clear?” Everybody nodded mutely. “Michael, can I have your master keys?”

“What, why?” Michael asked, looking startled.

“Because I’m the only one not a suspect in this case so I need those keys somewhere I can keep an eye on them, please, Michael.” He didn’t mean to sound desperate, but his vision was getting blurry, his head throbbing more and more by the second. He had to lie down, and soon.

“Alright,” Michael acquiesced, looking startled and handing over the keys. Alex limped towards the outer door, locked it, and put the keys in his pocket.

“Go to your cabins, everyone. I need to rest, and we’re not going anywhere for a while.”

People moved past him, murmuring and shooting him concerned glances. Michael stayed close to Alex, looking concerned. “Michael, can I speak to you for a moment?” Alex managed to say through gritted teeth. Without waiting for an answer, he limped towards his cabin and entered it, Michael following close behind.

“What is it – ?” Michael began, but it became very clear what. Alex nearly collapsed and it was all Michael could do but to catch him. “Wow! Alright, I got you, private, I got you.”

“Can you help me?” Alex asked, his voice weak and trembling. “I don’t – I don’t think I can – u-undress mys-self.”

“Of course, Alex. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

He helped Alex to his bed, set him down and started undoing the laces to his shoes. Alex slumped against the back wall, his eyes closed. Michael’s hands were gentle as he helped Alex out of his shoes, his socks, his pants and shirt. At any other time, the atmosphere between them would be charged, but Alex was near in a coma and Michael understood exactly what Alex needed. He helped him into his pyjamas. His soft touches lulled Alex into something resembling sleep and he felt warm and safe for the first time in a while.

“Alex,” he whispered, and Alex forced his eyes to open a fraction. “Lay down, love.”

With gentle pressure from Michael, Alex managed to swing his legs onto his bed and rest his head on his pillow. A very ungentlemanly groan passed his lips as his entire body began to ache into the mattress. Suddenly, Michael’s hands were on his bad leg, rubbing it softly, warming the aching muscles in his calf and knee. Alex hummed appreciatively and closed his eyes again. He slowly felt his body relaxing into Michael’s touches. His body was exhausted, the adrenaline from nearly dying finally wearing off and he was sure he was asleep. That is, until he felt Michael’s hands leave his leg and his lips against his forehead. “Sleep tight, Alex.”

Alex’s hand shot out, grabbing Michael’s arm as he made to leave. “Please don’t leave,” he muttered. His eyes opened slightly, looking up at Michael through his eyelashes. Michael’s face was soft, and a small smile played around his lips.

“Alright, Alex.” Michael shed most of his uniform, leaving him only in his boxers. Then he climbed into bed, settling himself behind Alex and slinging an arm over him. Alex’s eyes closed again, and he burrowed himself against Michael’s chest. Michael’s arm tightened around him, pressing a kiss to the back of Alex’s head. “Go to sleep, Alex. I’m here.”

Alex dropped to sleep faster than he ever had before.