#tiny me: *does nothing but stare at girls in awe and gets very physically affectionate towards the girl friends I get*

[petrichorpetals]

Something that'll forever be wild to me is that a lot of people are just now figuring out the kind of things I figured out very early on. I'm not trying to brag or anything, my autistic child brain just took in all the conservative media and just went yeah no that's BS sorry. It's still absolutely hilarious to me that in class we read Animal Farm, which is notoriously pro-capitalism and anti-communism and I genuinely came out if that just going well yeah communism has its problems, but it sounds way more appealing than capitalism, an easy way to fix this would be to have everything in control of the community instead of just one centralized group. I accidentally invented socialism without ever hearing the word before. My other fav is that we also read Ayn Rand's Anthem and literally my only take that I got from it was my agender ass going hey wait they is an option for pronouns? Ayn Rand is the reason I call myself we internally and it makes me happy to know she'd be PISSED. I became wildly left leaning due to my own thoughts on subjects, entirely unaffected by the conservative media shoved down my throat. Much to the perpetual anger of my dad who insisted that the school must be teaching me this "liberal bullshit" like nah I just wasn't racist and xenophobic because I realized that's bad on my own. Not to say I didn't stumble at points, I have a whole list of stuff that I did fully in ignorance I still feel bad for like saying the n word while reading like huckleberry finn when I genuinely had no idea what it meant and when I heard it was a "bad word" I just thought it was like fuck, a word that's not actually that bad.

[riovidal-harkness]

I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her (1/1)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairing: Bechloe

Words: 6.6K

Summary: Beca is quietly in love with her best friend/roommate. They go out for drinks after a long week of work. What could possibly go wrong?

Notes: Title from and fic inspired by Calum Scott's cover of Dancing On My Own. Set in the 'PP3 doesn't exist but bechloe still live together in the Brooklyn apartment' universe. I apologize if it's a little rusty, this is my first fic in years.

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Beca lets out an exaggerated sigh as she kicks the door shut with her foot, immediately dropping her bag close by and flopping down onto the poorly made fold out couch that her and Chloe share in the small Brooklyn apartment.

 Thank god it’s Friday, she thinks when pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her skinny jeans and rolling herself onto her back. 4:45 pm. Chloe will be home in half an hour, depending on how quickly she gets out of work to manage to catch the 5:05 train. Not that Beca memorized Chloe’s schedule and always waits for the older girl to arrive home... Not at all.

 She sits herself up with another slightly dramatic sigh. She shouldn’t be this exhausted from work, mentally and physically. She enjoys her job, most of the time. She should be happy that she’s living her dream, producing music and doing what she loves while also getting paid. But, the number of imbeciles she has to deal with on a weekly basis often makes her wonder why she ever wanted to do this in the first place.

 All she really looks forward after a long day of work is coming home to her best friend every night and cuddling up on their bed with snacks and her laptop, to watch whatever tv show or movie Chloe decided they have to see. Yeah, Chloe may have broken down a couple of Beca’s walls with her overly affectionate personality, she was also really hard to say no to. Especially since Beca has had feelings for the other girl for as long as she can remember, though she refused to admit it to herself for a while. It is easier to deal with now, the whole pining over your best friend/roommate wasn’t the hardest thing ever. She would never risk her friendship with Chloe because of some silly feelings, feelings that may have slowly turned into realizing she was in love with her. Who wouldn’t be totally head over heels for that girl? If her looks aren’t already enough; bright, gorgeous, bluer than the sky eyes that are full of hope and happiness, her smile that never fails to make Beca’s heart beat a little faster every time and let’s not even get started on her adorable giggle. It’s her gentle, dorky and bubbly personality that could light up a dark room. Her determination and passion, her love for the Bellas, her ability to see and appreciate the good in even the smallest things in life.

 There are too many reasons to count why Chloe Beale is one of the most genuine and beautiful people Beca has ever had the pleasure of knowing… Actually, she is the most genuine and beautiful person Beca has ever known.

 So, aside from the underlying feelings for her best friend that she neatly hides under a rug, Beca loves living with her. She is tidy, she gives Beca space to go into her anti-social bubble whenever needed, she makes her coffee every morning because Beca still hasn’t figured out how to use the stupid coffee machine even after having it for over a year. The two both genuinely enjoy each other’s company; they go grocery shopping together, they occasionally go out to lunch or dinner on weekends together when they aren’t extremely broke from paying monthly rent, they listen to music and dance stupidly around the tiny apartment. They work really well as a team.

 Usually, Beca forgets Amy also lives there too. She’s never really around that much anyway and when she is, it is just to grab a few things, make sly comments here and there about how married Beca and Chloe act before heading off again. Often but not always, coming home in the early hours of the morning– from her weekly boy toy’s house, or from the nightclub.

 Beca eventually sits up from her position of laying defeated on the bed and shuffles back to lean against the pillows, resting her phone in her lap. Starting to scroll through the Netflix app to see if anything sparks her eye to suggest to Chloe that they watch for the night, although nothing ever really does and the older of the two always ends up picking something.

 She’s only halfway through the ‘Popular on Netflix’ section when the door flings open and Chloe bounces through. “Hey!” she says with a cheerful grin, walking to place her handbag down on the coffee table. “How was your day?” she asks, turning to face the smaller girl after removing her jacket and hanging it up on the back of the door.  

 “Exhausting,” Beca groans, dropping her phone to lay beside her, “very glad it’s Friday,” running a hand through her hair lazily and continuing, “what about you? Save some more innocent little creatures to live another eventful day in the city of Brooklyn?” she says with a slight smirk.

 Chloe lets out a soft giggle as she kicks off her shoes, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “Not today, but I did get to meet this really cute puppy who needed his first vaccinations,” she beams with sparking eyes and a smile before shrugging lightly, “so, I’d say it was a pretty good day.”

 “Ah-ha, nothing like a tiny puppy to end the week off,” Beca says with a soft laugh, “wish I had your job sometimes, but then I remember the story of the cow and that thought goes away pretty quickly...”

 “Don’t remind me!” Chloe scrunches her nose, shaking her head with another giggle. “Why don’t we do something tonight, you know, to get your mind off of work,” she tilts her head towards the brunette with an empathetic smile.

 Beca raises an eyebrow curiously, “Depends on what you have in mind… I was pretty ready to just lay here for the rest of the night and do absolutely nothing.” – And maybe, cuddle just a little… she thinks to herself, refraining from saying it a loud. Chloe doesn’t have to know how much Beca actually does enjoy their cozy cuddling and patiently waits almost every night for the other girl to climb into the bed after her shower, smelling purely of strawberries & cream from her shampoo.

 “I mean, that is always fun, and I did find another interesting tv show for us to watch… But, why don’t we go out for some drinks?” Chloe shrugs a shoulder, “Let off some steam, dance it out… Get those delicious, unhealthy but awes burritos afterwards from that place you love down the street…” her lips turning into a small smirk.

 Beca hums softly, “I do love those burritos,” pausing for a moment, chewing her bottom lip as she thought about the proposition, “but I don’t know about having to deal with more dicks than I already do at work… With them also being drunk and wild, doesn’t sound like the best way I want to spend my Friday night.”

 Chloe pursed her lips with a small understanding nod. “Oh!” –she spins on the bed excitedly to properly face Beca, crossing her legs with a small bounce– “we could go to that groovy place Amy took us once, with the neon signs and yummy cocktails! It’s never usually that busy, that’s why Amy didn’t want to stay there long… Plus, it has that local DJ that you like playing there on Friday nights,” she says with a grin.

 “Damn. Cocktails, decent music and burritos… You really make it hard to say no, don’t you?” Beca smirks, watching Chloe doing an adorable little dance, making the bed shake lightly. “Alright, alright. Fine. I guess it wouldn’t be terrible… I do feel like a drink, maybe 10…”

 “Yay! Don’t worry, it will be aca-awesome!” teasingly emphasizing on the last word because she knows how much Beca hate the phrases that Chloe and Aubrey still haven’t let die. “I’m gonna have a quick shower and get ready then,” the older girl leaps up from the bed to head towards the shower, stripping her scrubs off on her way and chucking it into the laundry basket close by. Something that had become a reoccurring thing for Chloe to do, she’s seen the confident redhead in underwear or wrapped in a towel more times than she can count.

 Beca narrows her eyes, focus gazing down Chloe’s toned back before shaking her head and looking away, glancing down at herself to see if what she is currently wearing is nightclub appropriate. Probably not. She slowly shuffles off the bed to look through her rack of clothes hanging nearby. A different pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a slightly nicer top to match her leather jacket is what she decides on.

 Roughly an hour after Chloe gets out of the shower, she’s finally putting on her heels to match her little dark green dress and walking to the mirror to put in her gold hoop earrings. Ruffling long red hair to fall in waves down her shoulders.

 Beca raises an eyebrow from where she sits at the coffee table, putting her phone into her jacket pocket. She managed to get changed, freshen up her makeup, pour herself a drink of whiskey & cola and catch up on the rest of her work emails while Chloe was still getting ready. She admires the other girl’s outfit from afar, slowly trailing her eyes over her body and down her tone legs. She does love Chloe in green, it makes her eyes glow even more, if that was even possible, and goes so well with her bright, radiant hair. She sips the last of her drink before clearing her throat, “Finally ready to go, miss?”

 Chloe spins around with an enthusiastic nod, “Yep!”, walking over to grab one of her small purses and putting her phone into it. “How do I look?”, she cocks her head to the side with a confident smile.

 “Chlo, you know you look great,” Beca says as she stands from her seat, “I like that dress… It’s nice,” she smiles softly, finding it extremely difficult to take her eyes away from the bright ones staring back at her.

 “Thanks, Bec,” Chloe’s cheeks blush lightly as she looked down at herself and then back up, “you look great, too… Always.”

 Beca shrugs a shoulder, moving to place her empty cup in the sink to break the longing stare happening between them. Chloe really wasn’t shy when it came to eye contact. “I guess we clean up nice,” she says with a smirk as they move towards the front door.

 _____________________

 Chloe was right, the club really isn’t that packed, and it’s big enough that even with a few more people, it is still tolerable for Beca. They find a booth to sit in which isn’t far from the bar, so they’re taking it in turns getting the rounds of cocktails, so they don’t lose their seat. The music isn’t too bad either, Beca has a habit of over analyzing others remix choices but, this DJ is pretty good so she can’t complain.

 “See, told you this place would be cool!” Chloe nudges the smaller girl’s shoulder as she holds her straw between her fingers, taking a sip from her pineapple and passionfruit cocktail.

 Beca’s lips curl into a smile as she glances over to Chloe, “You’re just waiting for me to say it was a good idea, aren’t you?” she says with a soft laugh, “it is pretty cool, though,” she finishes with a shrug. “This cocktail is amazing, too. It doesn’t even taste like alcohol at all“–she stops to take a small sip– “Very deceiving, slightly dangerous. I know there is at least two shots of tequila in it ‘cause I watched him making it.”

 Chloe giggles as she shuffles slightly closer into the smaller girls side, “Let me try, I might get that one next,” she reaches over, taking a small sip and then glancing at Beca with wide eyes, “Oh, wow, yeah that is really nice… Try mine! It tastes like sunshine in a glass,” tilting her cocktail towards Beca.

 “You are like sunshine in a glass,” Beca says with a soft laugh before taking a sip, nodding her head slowly as she narrowed her eyes, “Mhm, yeah. That’s good shit.”

 “You’re good shit,” Chloe replies with another giggle, nudging against Beca’s shoulder again and settling her glass down on the table. “Now… It’s time to dance it out,” she whispers close to the other girl’s ear and then standing up, holding her hand out. Sending shivers up Beca’s spine from the quick closeness.

 Beca freezes halfway through sipping her drink, “Oh, no, no. I’m still about two drinks away from that, Beale,” she says with a shake of her head. Mentally trying not to break as Chloe’s lips turn into a small pout.

 “C’mon, Bec! I know you can dance! You’ve done it on stage in front of thousands of people,” Chloe argues, emphasizing her pout with a furrow of her brow.

 “That’s… Very different. Choreography and lots of practice,” she scoffs back with a laugh. “You go. I’ll watch your drink and keep our super cool, comfy booth company,” Beca grins as her lips try to find her straw again without breaking eye contact with the pouty redhead in front of her.

 Chloe lets out a soft huff and softens her expression, “Fine… But you better get your butt off that couch soon. This is just as bad as getting you out of bed in the mornings. Get yourself another drink!”

 Beca rolls her eyes and nods, watching Chloe bounce off to the slightly crowded dance floor in front of them and letting her shoulders drop slightly as she leans back, looking down to see how much of her drink was left– only halfway and tequila really did hit her pretty hard. Maybe she only needed one more before she was ready to dance. Again, Chloe is extremely hard to say no to. Plus, she really does want to dance with her best friend, although Chloe’s innocent flirty behavior only gets worse when she has alcohol in her system and Beca finds it harder to deal with every time they drink together. She always has to monitor her own drinking, just in case she did something stupid like accidentally tell Chloe she is hopelessly, pathetically, in love with her.

 She looks around her surroundings, the people in here aren’t actually too bad, compared to some of the places Amy has forced the two of them to go to in the past. There are hipsters, other people around their age who seem to be doing the same as them by enjoying the cocktails and some younger girls that appear to just be there to take photos with the neon signs to upload to Instagram.

 Beca eventually settles her eyes back on Chloe, a small smile appearing on her face at how freely the redhead is dancing, she really does look majestic and gorgeous without even trying. Her hair flowing down her back as her body moves with the beat of the song, hips shaking from side to side and a drunken smile on her face as she turns to look over to the booth, winking at Beca after noticing that she’s already staring.

 Beca gives a shy smile back and recoils slowly further back into the seat, glancing down into her glass as she plays with the ice using her straw. She looks back up about a minute later to see a, frankly, stunning brunette girl dancing near Chloe, seeming to get closer as the song continues. The stranger finally makes her way in front of Chloe, who gives her a friendly smile as she starts to dance with her, the two moving together to the beat. The other girl puts her hands onto Chloe’s hips, whispering something close to her ear. Beca swallows thickly and tries to look anywhere but at them, taking a slightly large gulp out of her drink as she tries to ignore the slight jealousy building up in her slowly.

 When she finally glances back at them, it’s just in time to see the brunette moving one of her hands to Chloe’s cheek and leaning in, starting to kiss her and… Chloe actually kisses back. Beca feels her stomach drop like she just went down a giant hill on a rollercoaster. Surely Chloe isn’t that drunk, she’s only about one or two drinks in front of Beca and even drunk, Beca has never witnessed her kiss another girl. Sure, she might have said to her a couple of years ago that she wished she experimented more in College… But she never actually brought it back up again after that, nor did she get anybody else to take her up on the proposal, she definitely would have told her. Beca thought about it a lot after it happened and mentally punched herself a couple of times for not taking Chloe up on the offer or at least exploring what she actually meant by it. Once she actually wanted to confront Chloe, after her and Jesse had broken up, she told herself it had been too long, and it would just be weird to randomly ask about it.  

 Beca furrows her brow as she glances away with a confused expression, instantly gulping down the rest of her drink and wincing slightly at the burn of tequila at the bottom of the glass. She tries to stop her eyes from glancing back at them but struggles and gives in, immediately regretting it when she sees them still kissing, more so, full on making out now. She puts her drink down on the table and rubs her sweaty palms over her jeans as she stares down into her lap. The feeling in her gut makes her feel sick and she can feel her chest tightening up like she was about to have a panic attack. Stop being stupid, Mitchell. She’s not even yours, she thinks to herself, but it doesn’t stop the lump forming in her throat. She had to get some air. Right now.

 She squints, glancing around while trying to avoid the two that she can still obviously see right in front of her and stands up quickly, immediately heading for the exit door, taking a deep breath in once the fresh air hits her. There’s a brick wall to her left that she immediately moves to lean against, closing her eyes as she tries to swallow back the stupid lump in her throat. Her hands patting her jacket pockets anxiously, letting out a small sigh of relief as she retrieves the cigarette packet and lighter– a terrible habit Beca has when she gets too stressed. She lights one up and leans her head back against the wall to look up at the sky.

 She has witnessed Chloe kissing other people before, and though it hurts a little every time, it shouldn’t hurt this much. But watching her kiss another girl rattles something inside of Beca that she can’t control. There are a few reasons behind not telling Chloe how she truly feels, aside from potentially ruining their friendship, she’s pretty certain the redhead is completely straight, and her own insecurities convince her that Chloe would never like her in that way.

 Taking a drag from the cigarette with shaky hands, she closes her eyes to try and focus on her breathing. She really should have just stayed at home.  

“Bec?” Chloe slightly yells as she comes out of the exit door while looking around, making Beca jump lightly, straightening herself up to not look so miserable against the wall.

Chloe furrows her brow and scrunches her nose as her eyes fall on Beca and the cigarette between her fingers, “What are you doing?”

 Beca glances into Chloe’s direction, “Just–” she clears her throat “–getting some fresh air…” She purses her lips and resists the urge to take another drag of the cigarette in front of Chloe after she notices how her red hair is slightly messier and her cheeks are flushed.

 “Well, don’t you think you’re ruining getting fresh air by putting that in your lungs?” Chloe questions as she tilts her head slightly. “Come back inside, we’re going lose our seat,” she steps closer.

 Beca can see how Chloe’s lipstick is slightly smudged once she gets closer. “Um, I… actually… think I’m going to head home,” Beca replies with a soft shake of her head, avoiding looking into Chloe’s direction, “That tequila kind of gave me a headache and I’m pretty tired.”

 Chloe’s face drops and her brow furrows again, “Oh…” She perks her head back up, lip quirking into a small smile, “Well, I’ll come with you then, we can get you some water and–”

 “No, it’s okay,” Beca interrupts, “you looked like you were having fun in there so, I’ll just see you at home,” she forces a half smile, a pretty poor attempted one and turns, walking away in the direction that she thinks the apartment is in, before Chloe can speak again.

 ______________________

 Beca gets back to the apartment in about double the time it took her and Chloe to walk there, she definitely did not go the right way. She shuts the door with a little too much force, making half the coats hanging on the back fall to the ground, giving them a glare and deciding she really doesn’t have the energy to pick them up right now. She glances around the small apartment, making sure Amy isn’t there. No surprise, she isn’t.

 She sits on the end of the bed, a dramatic and shaky sigh leaving her lips, feeling even more exhausted than what she did when she arrived home from work. The apartment feels even more empty and quiet than usual, making that dreaded lump in her throat come back. She isn’t even sure where she is looking, somewhere on the ground, but her eyes begin to blur as a few tears stray from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. Shaking her head with a groan, she wipes them away quickly and puffs out a breath. This is stupid, you are stupid, she thinks as she stands up, unsteadily shuffling off her jacket.

 Her eyes spot the bottle of whiskey she used earlier on the table, pressing her lips together and clenching her jaw slightly, she walks over to it and removes the lid, taking a long swig then instantly closing her eyes tightly as it burns down her throat. She makes a slow move back to the bed, slipping her phone out of her jeans with bottle still in the other and settles down against the pillows.

 Her mind wanders to what Chloe is doing right now, if she just walked back into the club without second guessing Beca’s behavior. What she might be doing with that girl right now. She’s probably still having fun. She can’t be mad at Chloe for any of it, she isn’t mad, it’s not her place, but it still is really hard for it not to hurt. She should have seen this coming, Chloe being with someone else, she should have prepared herself. Chloe is beautiful, she is bound to kiss or even get into a relationship eventually. Beca just didn’t properly prepare herself, like most things in her life.

 She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there, mind preoccupied by thoughts. She opens her phone, having to blink a few times to focus her eyes down on it. No notifications. She’s not surprised. Actually, she’s a little surprised. Chloe is the type to text if Beca got home safe, if she’s feeling better, if she’s sure she doesn’t want her to come back. Obviously, she was still having fun without her. Beca doesn’t care. She shouldn’t care.

 She throws it to the side and lifts her knees to drape her arms over them, hanging the bottle between them. The keys rattling in the door shakes her out of her thoughts, looking up with a slight frown as the door opens.

 Chloe walks in cautiously, holding a large paper bag in one hand. “Hey, you,” she says as she closes the door behind her, brow furrowing at the pile of coats near her feet and stepping over them before glancing up at Beca and then the bottle between her legs, “I thought you had a headache,” she settles the paper bag and her purse onto the coffee table.

 Beca chews on her bottom lip for a moment before responding, “Uh, yeah… I– I did…”, she glances around, unsure of what to say because she is terrible at lying, especially to Chloe. Clearing her throat, moving to settle the bottle down on the small bedside table carefully and crossing her legs in front of her.

 Chloe cocks her head to the side as she stares at Beca for a moment, “Okay, well, I got you this–” she pulls bottled water out of the bag, settling it on the table “–I know you don’t overly enjoy the tap water we have here,” her lip curving into a small smile before continuing, “I also got you this,“ pulling a wrapped burrito out of the bag.

 Beca smiles slightly, “Thanks, Chlo…”, she says in a soft tone, “I was going to get one… But I think I took the wrong way back.”

 Chloe pulls her own burrito out of the bag, struggling to balance both of them in her hands and pick the water back up at the same time but manages, walking over to the bed to sit down on the corner, dropping the items down, “I was going to tell you that, but you walked away too quickly for me to get a word out,” she blinks up at Beca, pushing the items closer to her.

 “Sorry,” is all Beca manages to get out as her eyes follow the other girl’s hand, glancing back up to find those ocean blue eyes still staring back at her.

 “Are you okay, Becs?” Chloe says with sympathetic eyes, shuffling further up the bed to get closer to her.

 Beca distracts herself by fiddling with the wrapping of the burrito in front of her, shrugging a shoulder lightly as she thinks about her response, “Yeah… Like I said, just tired.”

 Chloe lets a soft sigh fall from her lips as she studies Beca’s face, “You know, you can talk to me, right? I thought we were past this whole walls-built stories high Beca thing… “

 “I said I’m okay, Chloe. Just– Just drop it,” she runs her palms over her jean covered thighs, suddenly realizing how sweaty they are again, “please,” she adds on.

 Chloe blinks slowly as her mouth gaps open a little before pursing her lips together with a frown, staying quiet for a long moment before changing her mind, “Actually, no. Beca, I want to know what happened. It’s pretty clear you’re not okay. We were having a good time… Is it about that girl who started dancing with me because–”

 “No! I don’t care, honestly,” Beca laughs dryly, “I am totally fine, I just wanted to go home. I’m glad you were having fun… Tongue down her throat kind of fun.”  

 “What is that supposed to mean?” Chloe frown grows further with a wrinkled nose, “Are you jealous or something? I could have easily got her to come over to you instead.”

 Beca lets out another dry laugh, “That’s not what I wanted,” she shakes her head, slowly lifting her gaze from the bed to meet confused eyes.

 “Okay, then what do you want?” Chloe replies in lower tone as she looks over Beca’s face with those soft, glowing eyes that momentarily drop down to her lips before making their way back up.  

 Moments like this; she thinks, maybe, just maybe, Chloe has feelings back. That Chloe wants it all just as much. “I want,” Beca trails off, chewing the inside of her cheek, “to eat my burrito, I’m starving,” breaking the eye contact that was making the beat of her heart ten times quicker every second it continued. Idiot. Just tell her. Tell her how you feel.

 Chloe expression flattens into defeat as she sighs quietly with a small nod, standing up from the bed to grab an old t-shirt and sleep shorts out of the draw, changing out of her dress close by.  

 Beca distracts herself from glancing up at the redhead by unwrapping the burrito, taking a few small bites as she fights back and forth with her mind. She really wasn’t that hungry. Why did Chloe react like she was expecting, even hoping, for Beca to say something different? Did she really just miss her chance to say ‘I want you. Please want me the same way I want you.’  There are a thousand things going through her head as she sits quietly on the bed with her eyes fixated on the food in front of her.

 “I hope I got your order right; I’ve memorized it pretty good,” Chloe mumbles as she moves to settle down on the other side of the bed to lean back against her pillow, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Her own food forgotten about at the end of the bed.

 “It’s good, exactly how I like it. Thanks, Chlo,” she says with her mouth half full, sending a small smile into Chloe’s direction, which instantly disappears when she notices how sad she looks. It’s like looking at a hurt puppy and makes that sudden drop in Beca’s stomach come back. She swallows her final chew and leans to settle the half-eaten burrito down on to the bedside table next to the bottle of whiskey. Gross combination, Mitchell. She turns back to shuffle to lay on her side facing Chloe, propping herself up with one elbow, “Hey, I’m sorry… I know I kind of ruined our night and all.”

 Chloe shakes her head faintly, “You didn’t, it’s okay,” turning her head to meet Beca’s gaze, her lips curving into a soft smile, “I’d much rather be here with you than anywhere else,” she says in a soft tone as she shuffles herself down to mirror Beca’s position and face her.

 Beca really hopes the dim, pathetic lights in their apartment hides the blush she can feel creeping up her cheeks. “You really are my favorite person, Chloe,” she says in an equally as soft tone, her eyes wandering over Chloe’s soft features, watching the way her smile brightens after Beca’s words which makes her eyes crinkle and her eyelashes flutter through slow blinks.

 “You’re my favorite person, too,” Chloe replies, moving her free hand that isn’t being used to support herself to gently brush a strand of hair away and behind Beca’s ear. Sparkling, blue eyes following her own movement before trailing back to land on Beca’s lips again, and then slowly returning to her eyes.

 Beca knows she didn’t imagine that one, that lingering stare definitely lasted longer that time. She closes her eyes for a moment to bask in the feeling of Chloe’s fingers lightly trailing down her ear and jaw, skimming down the side of her neck, sending a small shiver down her spine that she really hopes wasn’t that noticeable. She opens her eyes back up slowly to meet the soft ones staring back at her. Her lips part like she’s ready to say something but closing them again after realizing she has no words for what is happening right now, and she definitely didn’t want to disturb or stop whatever was. Her heart is beating like it was about to jump out of her chest.

 Chloe’s tongue flicks out to lick over her own lips and Beca’s eyes dares to skim down. She could feel Chloe inching closer ever so slowly, she could smell her fragrance–still that hint of strawberries & cream, mixed with the floral scented perfume she uses every day– Beca feels intoxicated and not at all by the alcohol she had consumed tonight.

 Chloe’s fingers gently continue to trail down Beca’s neck before returning their journey back up to behind her ear and rest her hand against her cheek to cup it softly. She’s moving so slowly like she is worried she is going to scare Beca away, searching her face for any evidence this isn’t okay before finally closing that last bit of distance between them, lips barely brushing against each other.

 As soon as she feels Chloe’s lips brush hers, Beca takes a light shaky breath in and leans further into the lips against her own. Was this really happening? Was there something unusual in that tequila cocktail that could possibly be making her hallucinate this? And then her mind stops working, drowning out to nothing but how soft Chloe’s lips are and how her knees feel weak even though she was lying down. She presses her lips further and tilts her head slightly as Chloe adds the same amount of pressure, kissing her back gently.

 Beca’s free hand trails up from where it was awkwardly laying between them to rest on Chloe’s rib cage and pull her closer as she feels Chloe’s thumb rubbing softly against her cheek, eagerly pulling her further into the kiss.

 The gradation of it all is innocent at first, their lips moving with each other’s like they are made for one another, shaky tiny breaths exhaled in between. But then Chloe’s tongue traces slowly out to meet Beca’s parting lips, Beca feels like she is melting into the bed as her tongue meets Chloe’s and her hand trails from Chloe’s rib cage around to her back, pulling her impossibly closer as their bodies press against one another.  

 Chloe is the first to pull back slightly after what seems like too long but also not long enough, to let out a much-needed breath. She leans in to press another soft kiss to Beca’s lips before fluttering her eyes open just at the same time as the darker blue ones, her lips curving into a smile, “I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” she whispers.

 Beca just blinks back at the clear ocean eyes staring back into her own for a moment, “You have?” she eventually whispers back, the hand she has laying on Chloe’s back mindlessly starts trailing to hold onto her side again, like she’s scared she is about to suddenly disappear and she’ll wake up from a dream.

 Chloe just nods, the smile on her lips brightening.

 Beca sighs, slightly in relief and slightly trying to calm herself, she can still feel her heart beating way faster than it normally does. She surges forward to meet Chloe’s lips again, feeling Chloe’s hand moving from her cheek around to the back of her neck and instantly deepening the kiss again. One of Chloe’s thighs makes their way in between Beca’s jean covered thighs as they pull each other closer, and closer. This makes the arm Beca was propping herself up on instantly give out.

 A soft giggle leaves Chloe’s lips after it happens before meeting her tongue again, she moves to slowly roll them over, so Chloe is lying on top of Beca, thigh still settled comfortably between her legs and the hand around Beca’s neck moving to tangle into brunette hair.

 Beca takes a shaky breath in as she relaxes onto her back, one of her own thighs finds its way between Chloe’s and she swears she hears the other girl let out a quiet moan. Her hands trailing to rest on Chloe’s hips as their tongues dance around together passionately, Beca can’t control herself from arching her hips up ever so slightly.

 Chloe meets her hips with a gentle roll down of her own, eventually tearing her lips away from Beca’s to start pressing soft kisses down her jaw line and across the side of her neck.

 Beca tilts her head back to accompany the soft lips trailing across her neck, keeping her eyes pressed closed as she breathes heavily before– “Wait…” she whimpers out.

 Chloe immediately stops and lifts her head up to meet Beca’s gaze with a slightly confused look, searching her eyes for uncertainty, “Are you okay?”

 “Yeah, I just–“ she swallows thickly, realizing how dry her throat has become “–Can we just–“ she stutters out, looking into the pair of eyes that stare back at her so protectively and lovingly “–I don’t want this to just be some drunken make out or just sex… I really, really, like you, Chloe,” Beca says the last part a little quieter.

 Finally. Beca feels a weight lifting off her shoulders as the words she’s been holding in for years finally leave her lips. Although she’s definitely holding herself back from saying I love you, just in case Chloe doesn’t feel the same. The possibility of losing her best friend is too much to think about right now.

 Chloe’s expression softens as she pulls back to be able to properly look at Beca, the hand in her hair trailing back to cup her cheek and caressing again with her thumb, fingers moving lazily against the soft part of her neck right under her jaw, “I really, really, like you, Beca. I have since the moment I met you,” she says with an adorable smile spreading across her face.

 Beca breathes out another sigh of relief, “Okay, cool,” her lips curving into a smile that’s probably a little too satisfied, “good to know.”

 Beca still couldn’t believe this was really happening. Did she really hold and suppress all her feelings for so long without knowing Chloe has felt the exact same? Was she that oblivious that Chloe liked her back? Clearly.

 “Yeah,” Chloe leans back down to press a gentle kiss to Beca’s lips, “good to know,” she murmurs against them, kissing soft lips a few more times before moving to kiss her cheek, shuffling to lay beside Beca again, “We’ve had a long night. Why don’t we cuddle and go to sleep, hm? Then I can show you just how much this definitely isn’t some drunken make out in the morning,” she hums, dancing her fingers down Beca’s neck, collarbone and shoulder blade.

 Beca nods softly, the smile plastered on her face not leaving any time soon, “I’d like that,” she turns to steal another gentle kiss from Chloe before shuffling herself out of the bed. She struggles her skinny jeans and top off, finding a band t-shirt already on the floor to slip on before picking up the burrito from her bedside table and Chloe’s from the end of the bed, “I’m going to put these bad boys in the fridge for breakfast,” she smirks and walks them over to the fridge.

 Chloe rearranges the blanket from underneath her so she can slip in and giggles, “Gross. But I like your thinking,” she winks and opens the blanket up as Beca turns off the lights and makes her way back over to the bed.

 Beca settles back in with a content sigh. “Just one more…” she leans in to press a gentle kiss to Chloe’s lips, feeling the redhead smiling against her lips as she kisses back. It’s not hard to map out where her face is because of their shitty blinds that don’t block out the streetlights or the morning sun.  

 Chloe shuffles them down as she wraps her arms around Beca’s small frame as Beca reluctantly turns around after a few more soft kisses, pressing her back into Chloe’s front. “Hey, Becs,” she whispers, pulling Beca closer as she nuzzles her face into her shoulder.

 “Mhm?” Beca hums out, already content enough to fall asleep quickly as one of Chloe’s hand finds her own.

 There was a long pause before Chloe speaks again, “I actually really, really, love you.”

 “I really, really, love you, too.”

   The end.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Not Part of the Plan

Peter Kavinsky x Reader

Words: 2669

Part 1 of 2

Summary: You aren’t the type for spontaneity. But when your best friend Peter convinces you to go on the school ski trip, all of your lists and planning journals are thrown out the window. Especially when you discover his feelings for you and you come to the realization that maybe you no longer want to be just friends.  

Notes: You knew this was coming at some point. (this is also going to include some mentions of harassment and cyber-bullying, so just a warning on that)

You furiously scribbled bulleted lists and monthly plans and daily tasks into your journal- all color coordinated, of course. Just as you started drawing a calendar for December when your journal was snatched out of your hands.

“Peter!” You exclaimed, reaching for the book, but he held it out of your reach.

“Not so fast Squint.” He smirked, using the nickname that you hated. When you were little, you refused to wear glasses no matter how many times your mother tried to make you. So in order to read the board in class, you had to narrow your eyes to see the letters. Everyone used to call you Squint to bully you, but now it was just Peter’s affectionate nickname for his best friend. “I am adding something to your schedule.” He wrote in big letters, filling up an entire weekend. When he finally gave your journal back, you shook your head.

“I am so not going on the ski trip.”

“Aw come on Y/N.” He groaned. “I could finally show you my moves on the slopes.” He leaped over the back of the bench and sat next to you.

“Surprisingly, that makes me want to go even less.” You snarked, but you knew that there was one way he could be able to convince you.  Don’t make the face. Don’t make the face. Don’t make the face. Surely enough, Peter pouted his lips and his brown eyes widened sadly.

“Please Y/N.” He begged, the puppy-dog-face slowly starting to work its magic. You rolled your eyes, closing your journal in defeat.

“You’re bringing the snacks for the bus.” You ordered. He grinned and forced you into a hug.

“You are not gonna regret this, Squint.” He promised. You pushed away, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. He draped an arm over your shoulders as the bell rang and the two of you headed inside for first period.

Peter had been your best friend since middle school. You met when he would put the papers on top of your head when everyone handed their assignments up to the front to be graded. Ever since you’d been inseparable. Well, except whenever he was with Gwen. Peter’s now ex-girlfriend constantly tried to make sure Peter never spent time with you. Whenever you made plans, she would find a way to make him cancel. But now she had dumped him for some college guy and he was trying to move on. Somehow making you come to the ski trip would help him do that.

You still had a week to work the trip into your schedule, not that you had anything planned. As Peter loved to point out, you were a bit of a recluse. Besides him, you didn’t have many friends. You mostly stayed home journalling or watching old TV shows. Maybe a bit of fresh air up in the mountains would be good for you. If only you knew how to ski.

As you packed your suitcase you could feel Gwen’s icy stare burning into the back of your head. You hurried onto the bus, getting more uncomfortable by the second. You should be at home, curled up with a book in front of your TV watching Friends. Your eyes scanned the seats for Peter until you found him saving a seat for you toward the back of the bus.

“I know you like the window seat.” He beamed, lifting the snack bag that he’d used to save the seat. You started to put your carry-on bag in the overhead storage when a pair of jocks bumped into you on their way to the back. You lost your balance and fell forward into Peter’s lap. Your face turned bright red, but he just laughed. “Hi there.”

“Shut up.” You scrambled over him to your seat and he continued to snicker. The bus jerked forward and so did your stomach. Peter nudged your shoulder.

“Come on, Y/N, where’s that smile?” He dug through his bag. “I brought your favorite travel snacks.” He coaxed a bag of the treats in front of your face. You stuck out your tongue at him and snatched the snack from his hands. He dug through his bag again, only this time, he pulled out a notebook. “Okay, so here’s the plan. I know how much you love your schedules, so I made this.” He flipped to the first page and showed you the little calendar he’d drawn for the next couple days, complete with snowflakes and a tiny ski-lift connecting the days together. You looked over his attempted calligraphy and felt your heart swell. He did this for you?

“What does, Super Secret Special Activity mean?” You asked, pointing to the very last thing listed.

“Well I can’t tell you if it’s called super secret, now can I?” He scoffed, poking your side playfully. “Everything on there is mandatory. No staying in your room except for the specific times I set aside for you.” There was a half-hour time slot in each day titled ‘Y/N’s lame alone time’.

“Peter this is…” You couldn’t really describe it. As much as you dreaded the thought of actually having to be social with other kids in your grade, the fact that he’d spent the time planning all of it made you feel something you couldn’t quite identify. It was warm and sweet, like drinking the perfect cup of hot chocolate. And for a moment you thought maybe it was… no. It couldn’t be. But the way he was smiling at you made your heart pound.

You chalked it up to just more nerves over the trip and stared out the window. The snow-covered city slowly changed into the forest. You’d always appreciated nature. That wasn’t the problem. It was the spent over two days with a group of teenagers in the middle of the mountains. And in the moment, it was the snide glances you were receiving from across the aisle where Gwen was planning your demise. This was going to be a long weekend.

Your room was nice and cozy and, most importantly, secluded. You were one of the only students that got assigned to a third-floor room so there would be little chance of any accidental run-ins with Gwen. You had just settled into your bed when a knock at the door intruded on your quiet oasis. Groaning, you stood up to see who it was. Peter grinned at you through the peephole and you remembered his list of activities.

“Come on, ya hermit!” He shouted through the wood. You opened the door with a scowl“You and I are going hiking so bundle up.” He threw himself onto your bed and closed his eyes blissfully.

“Guys aren’t supposed to be in girls rooms.” You pointed out. He lifted his head to look at you and you both knew that rule meant nothing on this trip. The chaperones were always too busy drinking wine or whatever it is adults do on vacation. You’d overheard someone saying that more kids lose their virginity on the ski trip than they did on prom night. But you and Peter wouldn’t be doing anything like that! Peter was your best friend. You couldn’t even imagine him like that. Well, there was that one time at a pool party… But that’s beside the point. The point was that you didn’t have feelings for him. You just weren’t blind to his attractive physic. That’s all.

When you’d put on at least three layers of clothing, Peter dragged you out onto the least snowy trail that was still open. There were a few other kids from your class, but they walked ahead of you or snuck off in the bushes to make out. With every freezing step, Peter promised that the journey would be worth it, or at least, that’s what he’d read in one of the brochures. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, which was making you more agitated than the cold. You hated surprises.

“See, Squint, a little adventure every now and then is good for you.” Peter bumped you with his shoulder.

“I can be adventurous…” Even you knew that was a lie. You’d never done anything that you hadn’t explicitly written down in your journal. Maybe you hoped that if you hadn’t written it down, then nothing bad would happen.

“I think it’s up here, come on.” Peter took your hand and pulled you through a grove of trees. You both froze, staring out at the scene in amazement. It was a glistening lake, still enough that it mirrored the mountains above it perfectly on its shining surface. Everything smelled like pine and earth and lake water.

“Wow.” Was all you could manage to say, your mind still trying to take everything in.

“Told you it would be worth it,” Peter whispered, his voice laced with awe. You stepped forward, your foot getting caught on a tree root. You braced yourself to hit the icy water, but a hand latched onto yours, pulling you back, sending both you and your rescuer tumbling into a snowbank. You landed hard on Peter’s chest, knocking the breath out of you.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.” You stumbled, climbing off of him awkwardly. Peter just stared at you with a smirk on his face, sitting up. He shook the snow out of his hair and helped you up. You were standing so close, you were sure that he could hear your heart pounding wildly. The trees above you cast shadows across his face, but the sun still made his eyes sparkle. You could feel yourself being drawn closer to him and before you knew it, he was leaning in as well and your lips inevitably met. Wait. Your brain frantically tried to process what was happening. This was not part of the plan! This was most definitely not part of the plan!

You pushed away and before Peter could even open his mouth to talk, you were rushing back down the path. You couldn’t handle this. This wasn’t written out in your journal or on Peter’s list. This was unexpected and you didn’t do well with things that you couldn’t see coming. It happened so fast. You didn’t have time to set up your wall to keep unwanted emotions out. How could you have foreseen that you’d be falling for your best friend?

You spent the rest of the day in your room… with your journal… alone. Just like Peter said you would be. Your phone had been blowing up with texts and calls, but you’d ignored all of them. Maybe you were just afraid he thought it was a mistake. It was definitely a mistake. Peter was your best friend. You couldn’t admit to yourself that you had feelings for him, let alone act upon them. But now they were just out in the open, ready to be dissected and picked apart by the vultures known as life and love.

You were about to start a Harry Potter marathon when there was a quiet knock on your door. You debated just pretending that you were dead.

“Y/N?” The voice greeted. “It’s Lara Jean. I think we need to talk.” You walked across the wood floor, feeling the dread building in your chest.

You were almost as close to Lara Jean as you were to Peter. You spent many summer nights watch old movies with her and her sisters. When you opened the door, she immediately pulled you into a hug.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She muttered, pulling away. You groaned.

“Does everyone know about it?” She nodded solemnly. You covered your face with a pillow.

“Gwen’s been sending it to everybody, but I know that it isn’t true. I mean, Curt is a total jerk and you wouldn’t have gone out with him let alone-” You brought the pillow down from your face slowly.

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened.

“You don’t know?” She looked down at the floor, suddenly very uncomfortable. She took a deep breath. “I guess it’s best that you hear it from me.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up a post on one of Gwen’s social media accounts. There was a picture of you next to Curt Landon, a boy on the lacrosse team that you’d gone on one date with last year. Lara grimaced as she swiped to the next picture. This time, the two of you were sitting in his car… and his hands were up your shirt.

The caption read; I just had a very interesting conversation with Curt about his date with Y/F/N Y/L/N. To quote; “She was a total fireball She wanted to do things that you wouldn’t believe. And let’s just say I obliged as best as I could, but hell man, I’m only down for so much freaky in one night.” You could practically hear his cocky, playboy voice. But it was Gwen’s closing line that stung. I guess it’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.

You sat in silent shock. Lara Jean took your hand.

“It’s total bullshit, I know.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe she would post something like this. What could you have possibly done to-”

“Peter and I kissed.” You blurted out. Her jaw dropped.

“You-you what?”

“We kissed.” You stood up, feeling your heartbeat pick up as your breathing became rapid. “Somehow she must have found out. She must have gotten Curt to make up some story that we slept together. But we didn’t!” Panicked tears started to build up in your eyes. “We went on date and he tried to make a move on me and shoved him off. I should have know his friends were taking pictures for their messed up memory book or whatever those creeps have.” Lara Jean stood in front of you.

“Okay, Y/N, just calm down. I’ll find Peter and we can figure this out.”

“No. I can’t face him right now Lara Jean, I just can’t.” You started to pick up your things from around the room, clutching your journal in your arms. “I have to get out of here.” You threw your clothes into your suitcase.

“The bus doesn’t leave until tomorrow.” She pointed out. “It’s not like you can just walk home, Y/N. Just stay and we can figure this out-”

“I have some cousins that don’t live too far away from here. He can give me a ride home. I just have to get a permission slip.” You opened the door with a shaking hand. You felt the stares of your classmates as you made your way down to the lobby.

“Hey Y/N!” One of the jocks yelled down to you. “I heard you were down for some crazy stuff, so how about you come one up here and we can get freaky!” Him and his group of friends laughed.

“Will you shut up Noah?” Another voice barked. Peter was at the top of the other stairs, looking at you. You walked faster. “Y/N wait!”

“Look who it is…” Gwen snickered. “I heard some of the guys wanted a threesome, maybe you should meet up with them.” You pushed passed her.

Peter finally caught you and you couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Y/N, come on, just talk to me.” He begged.

“I can’t deal with this right now, okay Peter?” You whispered, feeling the shame and embarrassment rising up in you. You clung to the journal in your hands, wishing you could disappear between it’s pages. But instead, you were forced to stand and listen to your classmates taunt you as your best friend’s face contorted with hurt.

“Please… just stay and we can do this together.” Without a word, you shook your head and left to find your teacher, blocking out everything. Including the boy calling your name.

[sheisbornadreamer]

Brother

Centered around Yamato's role as a big brother and from Takeru's point of view.

Disclaimer: just borrowing, I don't own anything

Takeru had never seen his brother like this.

Growing up, he had practically thought of Yamato as an adult; he was twice or even three times as tall as he, that was enough reason. Other than that, his brother acted and thought like an adult, and definitely treated Takeru as if he were his son. He nagged, he worried, he took care and spoiled, but most of all he comforted.

The memory of being lifted onto his brother's lap and held close was as familiar as eating, dressing, or even going to the bathroom. He had grown up with it, even when they lived separately Takeru would regularly come back to that familiar place between his older brother's arms and frame.

Yamato was the perfect person to calm you; although he wasn't always alright and sometimes even depressed, he was equable and stable like a tree. Even at the young age of six he used to hold his difficult and energetic three year old sibling still until he stopped crying or fell asleep.

Though their parents tried not to, Yamato was sometimes used as a calmer for his brother, when they didn't manage.

Takeru was the happy one of the two boys, but being a careless kid he often hurt himself, and easily cried. To be fair, he soon smiled again, after being consoled by Yamato.

Said boy, however, didn't cry very often. Though neither did he smile. He was careful and still and therefore most of the time managed to avoid getting hurt, but there was often pain carried somewhere inside him, especially after their parents' divorce.

Somehow, his monotone behavior (compared to his brother's ups and downs) left him with almost no comfort from anyone. Since he was never feeling great and never feeling awful, he was always okay. So he didn't need to be checked upon.

Being his little brother, Takeru naturally noticed the tiny changes in his sibling's mood, and if Yamato was sad one day, he saw it.

The younger boy never comforted his big brother, but when that face was frowning, Takeru's mouth would instantly open and he'd babble about his day, about his thoughts and what he had seen and heard. If that didn't help, he would tell him funny stories and crack jokes (that he always managed to destroy in the effort of explaining) make faces, dance, anything to make his brother laugh. Or at least smile a little.

Next to their father, Takeru could grasp that Yamato was smaller, and not the one in charge. But Mr Ishida never treated Yamato like he treated Takeru; he didn't ruff his hair or lift him up into the air or pet his cheek. He was kind to him of course, but hardly ever affectionate or protective.

Come to think of it, there had only been one time in his childhood, where he had witnessed the shocking image of his older sibling for once acting by his age, and their parents treating him by his age.

It really hadn't been Yamato's fault. No one had ever even hinted that since it happened. Of course, if the blond nine-year-old hadn't climbed up that three just to answer Takeru's question, he wouldn't have broken his leg.

But it was practically the only inconsiderate thing he had ever done as a kid, and their parents forgave him for it before he even fell.

That doesn't mean they weren't shocked. Everyone was. Most of all Takeru.

The image of Yamato being picked up by their father, crying his eyes out as though he had completely forgotten his whole identity (Takeru still has a hard time picturing his brother crying without holding back) and not letting anything comfort him, was just as shocking as what was now taking place right before his eyes. Maybe this wasn't as shocking... or just in a different way, not exactly easy to compare...

Ishida-san's expression hadn't eased the six-year-old's shock either -it had been the first time Takeru had ever seen his father look scared.

He had never felt so small and distant as then, as if watching from another planet. Kind of like the feeling you get when watching thunder, or disasters in other countries. One second you're thinking about your stupid shoe-lace that never wants to stay in the knot, and the next you realize that there's a giant world around you.

Everything isn't from your point of view any longer.

Yamato isn't just a big brother who will always wait for Takeru to trip and fall, or worry about everything he does, and just console him and guide.

Suddenly he's a thousand of different things.

Most of all, he's not the character Takeru is used to. Apparently that only exists when he is in Yamato's thoughts... weird.

At first it hadn't been very extraordinary.

Yamato looked tired. Weak, even. Takeru had seen that before, when Yamato's spirit had dipped just a little lower, barely crossing the line between "okay" and "not okay". Sure it had been shocking the first time, but it had happened often enough for the younger brother to recognize it and not unnecessarily freak.

Here, he would have finished the last distance and approached him, but Yamato's best friend Yagami Taichi was standing there with him, so it was fine. Takeru remained where he stood, observing as he tried to analyze whether he should join them or just leave. Right now, they looked a bit too serious for him to just drop in.

Well, at least his brother did.

Taichi never seemed to get the whole frowning-thing.

Obviously he was trying to cheer him up. Not with the usual clown-tactic however, but with the calmer one he used when he knew that Yamato needed him to understand. That was why Takeru hesitated; they never talked about serious stuff in front of people. He didn't exactly worry about his brother hiding something from him; they shared most things with each other. It was rather the interaction between the two friends that wasn't supposed to be disturbed by someone else.

The two nineteen-year-old males continued to exchange words silently (Takeru was standing too far to actually hear), Taichi listened as Yamato let his heart out, gave some suggestions, and nodded in surrender as the other added more negativism. In more serious conversations like this Taichi didn't seem to persist on cheering him up; he rather listened and let Yamato sort it out himself by talking about it, and simply offered support and company.

The brunet sighed as Takeru's brother continued to look miserable, gazing at the ground with troubled eyes. He then took a step forward, hooking his arms under the hunched over Yamato's frame, and lifted him up to let him rest his taller body against his. Then he pulled Yamato's waist strangely close, and Yamato in turn wrapped his arms around the other's shoulders, burying his face into Taichi's neck.

The last said actions were what sent Takeru beyond the limit of blissful ignorance into heart-jumping shock.

His big brother looked so small in the brunets arms, which was very weird because he wasn't physically smaller than him. But without Taichi there, Yamato would've fallen to the ground.

The fact that it wasn't an x-hug annoyed Takeru; the fact that Yamato's arms were clinging around Taichi's neck while said male's arms were holding that small waist. The fact Yamato's hair was suddenly so long and pretty annoyed him. That he was always so quiet and careful, and sad. That he was burying his face into Taichi neck, probably sobbing quietly. That his eyes were so pretty, and his skin was so fair, and his limbs so long and thin and graceful.

That they were kissing.

Shock returns and replaces his irritation for a few seconds.

Takeru had never considered his brother as anyone's boyfriend or lover. Girls drooled over him, that was obvious, but Yamato always despised and avoided fans like that. He had never blushed around anyone, or glanced a little to long, or stuttered.

Now suddenly, he is someone's. He is loving someone, and not in a brother type of way. Not the way he loves music. Or their childhood memories. Or his so called "friend" over there. A romantic way.

And it's guy.

And Yamato is the fucking girl...

The possibility that Yamagi has topped his brother crosses his mind and Takeru starts to get dizzy. This is too much to take.

Taichi has spotted him, regret written across his eyes, knowing that this will kill Yamato, especially in state that he's in right now. A second later blue eyes meet blue.

All Takeru can think of is that time when he sneaked up to take a sneak peak at the horror movie that Yamato and Taichi were watching. As the monster popped up on the screen Takeru cried out in fear, Yamato had turned his head, already knowing, and stared at him with the same eyes as now.

Takeru's anger runs off as he sees the look on his brother's face. He wants to erase it, convince him that he hasn't seen anything, that nothing is wrong. He absolutely hates that look.

Neither of them can stop the older Ishida from getting the hell away from there, and in just a few seconds only Takeru and Taichi are left.

Looking at the younger boy, Taichi can tell that there's accusation towards him. But he waltzes over casually, grateful that the blond doesn't leave -chasing would be useless.

"I'm sorry you had to see that"

Takeru glares. "Just because you were the leader in the Digi-world doesn't mean you can treat him like some fucking..." he trails off, lacking words. Or perhaps too embarrassed to use them. Thinking is awkward enough.

Taichi holds his gaze. "You know I respect him" he replies critically, making Takeru look away, slightly shameful. But he can't give up to that only.

"Doesn't mean you haven't fucked him" he retorts loudly, not backing down. He stares intently into the brunet's eyes, knowing he can't hide what he's feeling.

He looks caught off guard, but recovers, sighing. "I don't think I'm better than him. We're different, but we're still equal. That there was him letting me share the burden, alright, he's having a hard time right now. Trust me, Yamato's not afraid to punch me if I act like an idiot."

Takeru shifts, suddenly feeling very stupid. Almost like Daisuke.

He cringes at the mere thought.

"It's just... I've never wished he was different. I've always looked up to him and seen him as my hero, even when others say stupid things, I never saw it. Until now."

"We-"

"It's not that he's gay," Takeru protests, shaking his head. "Just... that he lets you take care of him. Looked like he's given up. Yamato has always managed on his own. He's not weak!"

"He's human, Takeru. He's got problems to deal with -everyone does. Sometimes he can't do it on his own, or as fast as he'd like to."

He didn't expect to accept the speech, but when Taichi's finished Takeru has nothing left to say.

"So he's not... " The young teen already regrets the question, but Taichi smiles encouragingly, listening. "... like, the woman then," he manages to mutter.

Taichi looks more disturbed than he had feared he would. "I hate that expression" he exclaims, narrowing his eyes at something above Takeru's head, as though the one inventing said expression was standing there.

"Well, I mean... " Takeru adds, scratching his head miserably, wishing he'd never asked. "Submissive, or whatever. I mean I know I see him as a hero 'cause he's my big brother and everything, but I guess he can be pretty... laid back."

"No."

"No?"

"He's not submissive. And I am not dominant, thank you very much"

"So..."

"We do rock paper scissors."

Takeru stares at him in disbelief. "You do?"

Taichi nods convincingly. "Yep. Or we just take turns, if we feel mature enough."

The young teen chuckles, shaking his head.

"You like my brother," he suddenly reflects, as if finally acknowledging that.

Taichi's eyes widens and he gives an offended snort. "No." Then he grins as the younger teen laughs easily. He hopes the boy won't grow up too fast, or simply stay this way even if he does.

"And Matt likes you...?" Takeru half-asks, finding that a bit weirder.

"He worships me," the brunet assures, smiling as Takeru rolls his eyes, unawarily imitating his sibling.

"I guess that's fine. I mean at least he didn't choose some sleazy jock"

Taichi's smile fades, and he looks at him warily. "You can be even scarier than Matt, you know that?"

Takeru just smiles. He's glad that it is Taichi that Yamato has chosen. If he has to go out with a dude, at least he's picked the right one.

He just hopes that his big brother still kicks ass in rock paper scissors.