#tonight and tmrw night are the last two nights i can stay up till the crack of dawn without facing the consequences of my actions ���
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WHAT BOOTLEG SHOULD I WATCH TONIGHT GUYS?!???!!
#i started be more chill last night but ended up watching mean girls instead#i'll post my list of tbw musicals if wanted#tonight and tmrw night are the last two nights i can stay up till the crack of dawn without facing the consequences of my actions 😔#school starts WEDNESDAY#i'm gonna CRY i don't wanna go back to school pleaseeeee#anyways yeah 😽#musicals#musical#broadway musicals#musical theater#musical theatre#bootleg#musical bootleg#question#open question
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London Boy - Part 4: Just friends
summary: You wake up to find Rafe Cameron in your bed. Even though nothing happened, you’re still left trying to make sense of it all.
pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)
warnings: swearing, drinking
word count: 5k
a/n: thank you so much to all of you who have been reading along <333 sorry in advance if you want this to progress faster haha, it simply must be this slow, sorry I don't make the rules (even tho I do lol). Not canon Rafe!!
masterlist
Your eyes slowly flutter open as the early morning rays wake you up. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. As you slowly gain consciousness you’re startled by the weight of Rafe’s arm draped across your body. What the hell? When did that happen? He spent the night in your bed?
Your mind races at a million miles an hour as you slowly slip out from under his hold. You were careful not to wake him up, not wanting to face any awkwardness. You throw on fresh clothes and grab your backpack, desperate to make your escape. You had wanted to get to school early today to work on some homework anyways, never before so eager to trade in the comfort of your bed for the library.
After a quick pit stop to pick up a coffee and a croissant, you swing the heavy wooden doors open. You liked campus at this hour, the morning light still soft, the air crisp, and the atmosphere silent. As you scan your eyes for a spot to sit, you notice the unmistakable sight of fluffy brown hair hunched over a table.
“Liam?” your whisper. “What the hell are doing here?”
That classic cheeky grin spreads across his face as he looks up to find you standing in front of him. “I go here, Y/n. Forget already?”
You roll your eyes, “I just didn’t know you were the studious type.”
“Not gonna lie to you babe, I’m not. But Rogers is already all the way up my ass over this class, and I’m not letting that prick hold me back a year.”
You pull out the chair across from him and go to sit down, spreading your books out on the table.
“Who said you could sit with?” he asks, and you shoot him a look. You’re not in the mood. “Geez alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed… you good Y/n?” he slows, taking in your disheveled appearance. You hadn’t so much as brushed your hair.
“Can you promise not to tell anyone,” you stare dead into his eyes.
“On my life,” he extends his pinky, and you accept.
“Rafe… slept over last night…”
“Oh shit!” he exclaims, and your eyes widen at his echoing voice.
“Not like that,” you hiss, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the two of you. “Nothing happened… like he just came over to watch a show and then we talked for a while and just accidentally… fell asleep. I panicked when I woke up and realized he was still in my bed so I ran out of there as fast as I could and now…. well now I’m here.” You nervously chug your coffee, heart racing.
“So he hung out with you all night and didn’t make a move?”
You nod, nervously awaiting his analysis as you take a bite of your croissant.
“Damn, boy must really like you,” he muses.
“What? Definitely not,” you scoff.
“Y/n, let me tell you a little something about guys. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. The fact that he’s coming over your room to watch a show and hanging out with you until he physically can’t stay awake - I mean I can’t make it any more obvious to you.”
“I don’t know I just don’t think so… You don’t know Rafe like that, he’s a total player back home. He can pull any girl he wants, so if he liked me like that he would’ve done something by now. This is probably how he is with all his friends and I’m just reading too much into it. I’m sure Lily Colts will be in his bed soon enough,” you mumble. That last part stings in particular, you had already thought it, but saying it out loud made you feel… icky.
“I may not know Rafe like that, but I know guys like him. I am guys like him. He likes you Y/n. So what if he pulls a lot of chicks, he doesn’t actually care about them. But he cares about you, probably can’t even understand why, and now it’s like bam Uno reverse. He can’t pull the cards he normally does, and now you’ve got him confused and he doesn’t know what to do. Man’s down bad. Give him time though, he’ll come around,” he explains to you calmly, stealing your coffee cup from you and taking a sip.
“Honestly can I just start paying you to figure my life out for me. You make everything seem so simple.”
“Because it is simple. You insist on complicating it. But I know how you could pay me,” he adds with a wink and you shoot him a glare. You know he’s just joking (partially), he loves pushing your buttons.
“Well whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it,” you resign on the Rafe matter. You wanted to believe what Liam was saying but it didn’t quite make sense to you. You were only going to drive yourself crazy trying to read between lines that you weren’t sure existed. Rafe was just used to situations like this with girls. To him last night was probably no big deal. It was to you though. You would never let ‘just a friend’ stay over like that, with his arm around you no less. But Rafe didn’t need to know that, you decide.
—-
You manage to avoid Rafe all day, not having any classes with him on Friday’s. As soon as your last class is over, you sprint home, relieved when you’re the first back at the flat and can quickly slip into your room undetected. You set down your bag and sit on the edge of your bed. Your hand slowly runs over your comforter, still ruffled from where Rafe had been laying the night before. The indent of his head is still on your pillow; you can almost smell the scent of him lingering in your room and hear the sound of his soft whispers. You wonder what his first thoughts were when he woke up in your bed alone - was he confused? Embarrassed? He probably thought nothing of it at all. You can just picture him casually getting up with a stretch, like it’s the start of any typical day.
You slip into the shower and let the water wash over your body. It’s warm and soothing, and it’s reminding you of Rafe laying next to you, of his arm wrapped around you. God if there was only a way to shut your brain off once in a while. As much as you tried to suppress it, there had been a tiny part of you that was happy to have woken up in his embrace, giddy like a school girl with a crush. You’d always wondered how a moment like that would feel, or how a moment like that with him would feel. You had conveniently failed to mention the “arm” detail to Liam, maybe because in the back of your mind you knew it would only help prove his theory right.
When you make your way back to your room, your phone buzzes and the Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 group chat appears.
Olivia: who wants to go out tonight 😈
Topper: me and Rafe have to be up early tmrw for soccer - rain check on this one ladies
Olivia: :(
Olivia: girls night out??
Millie: you know I’m there!
You’re a little bummed that Rafe won’t be there tonight. But a girls night sounds like just what you need to get him off your mind.
Y/n: I’m in :)
Not even a few minutes later Olivia and Millie are barging into your room, causing you to let out a startled yelp.
“My god, heard of knocking,” you exhale with your hand coming to your chest. Your statement falls on death ears.
“Which jeans with this top,” Olivia asks, holding the clothing items against her body.
“Should I curl or straighten my hair with this,” Millie follows, holding her outfit up.
“Uhh,” your mind scrambles, “those jeans Liv. And straight, Mills,” you reply, shocked by your own decidedness. “But now you guys have to help me, I have no clue what to wear.”
“Say less,” Olivia flashes a smile.
Within minutes they tear through your closet, picking out your outfit. Things were always much more clear with a fresh set of eyes. The three of you discuss the night’s logistics before making your way to the kitchen - couldn’t go drinking on an empty stomach. Rafe and Topper are already there, and you try your best to act natural even though your stomach ties itself in a knot the moment you catch a glimpse of his face. You haven’t seen him since you ran out this morning.
“Uh hey I’m gonna run to Sainsbury’s real quick, I wanna get a chaser, anyone need anything,” you ask, avoiding eye contact with Rafe. Your nerves get the best of you and in terms of fight or flight, you were ready to flee.
“Hey wait I’ll come with you. Gotta pick something up for dinner,” Rafe stands grabbing his jacket, and before you can interject, he’s leading the way down the hall and out your shared flat.
“So what are you chasing tonight?”
“What?” you ask startled, his question pulling you back to reality. Your mind had been running in a loop, trying to read him and the thoughts in his head. You wished now more than ever that you knew what Rafe was like behind closed doors back home, so you could somehow make sense of it all.
He chuckles at you, lost in your own world. “You said you needed a chaser?” Those intimidating blue eyes have found their way to yours again and you hastily look away, focusing in front of you instead.
“Oh yeah- uh just for the vodka,” you laugh nervously.
“Basic,” he mocks. You scoff in surprise and lightly hit him on the chest as the laughter leaves your lips. He’s sporting a shit-eating grin, having successfully egged you on.
“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna do shots of whiskey before going to a club.”
“Well you do owe me one…” he says.
“Oh so he remembers?” you reply, amused.
“Of course,” he states so calm and so sure. Your head swirls at that, his cool confidence making you melt. The automatic doors slide open in front of you, fluorescent lights stealing your attention from the boy you were finding dangerously more attractive by the second.
“I thought we’re supposed to take it together? But someone’s being lame and not coming out tonight,” you say sarcastically, playing it as cool as you can manage. Rafe’s confidence seemed to come naturally, but you were more of a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of gal.
“Hey you know I have soccer,” he defends. The Kook Prince was not one to turn down a party without cause.
“Excuses excuses,” you shake your head.
“Actually, speaking of soccer, you uh- you and the girls should come tomorrow. If you’re not doing anything. Or not too hungover I should say. Game’s at 12.”
“Can’t make any promises Cameron, but we’ll see,” you smile, earning a satisfied smile from him in return.
You make your way to the frozen food aisle, Rafe explaining to you how they call a soccer field a football pitch here, as you laugh at him grabbing 5 frozen pizzas (dinner solved for the next week, of course). You ask him which chaser you should pick. He points out a cola, so naturally you decide to get blackberry seltzer water, Rafe twisting his face in disgust (who would voluntarily drink that tv static). You always felt so nervous at first, to be in Rafe’s presence, but all it ever took was a few minutes for you to completely relax around him. He was intimidating, yet inviting. Mysterious, yet open. He was somehow the cause of your anxious nerves and yet the source of your comfort. The fear of facing Rafe after running out this morning had paralyzed your thoughts all day, and now you could hardly remember why. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, as if nothing happened. His normalcy confirmed for you that him sleeping over was in fact no big deal, and you almost want to laugh at yourself for how much you had worked it up in your head. You two were just friends, and perhaps Rafe was used to being… a friendlier friend than what you were used to. But that was okay, you could learn to be friendlier too.
—-
Rafe and Topper had decided to accompany you guys in the kitchen as you pregamed. They slowly sipped beers as you, Millie, and Olivia pounded back shots, laughing at the way you guys got progressively drunker and progressively louder before finally heading out. And much to your surprise, the boys were still seated in the same spot hours later, when the three of you stumble back into the flat, McDonalds in hand.
“Oh look who’s still up,” Olivia slurs, taking a bite of her cheeseburger.
“We can’t go out, we have soccer,” Millie mocks, almost falling to the floor as she trips over her heel, Topper and Rafe not making any effort to hide their clear amusement.
“Fun night huh?” Topper quirks his brow.
“The funnest,” Millie holds her head high, sinking down against the wall until she’s sat on the floor. You had made a beeline for the dining room table, silently admiring your chicken nuggets. In that moment, they were the best thing you had ever tasted.
“I want Jake,” Olivia pouts, and before anyone can say a word she’s turned on her heel, burger in hand, off to crawl into her boyfriend’s bed.
“Alright you drunk, let’s get you to bed,” Topper laughs, scooping an incoherent Millie up to her feet by her elbows.
“M’not drunk,” Millie protests, even though she’s leaning her full body weight against Topper who sarcastically nods at her, escorting her down the hallway. Rafe sits on the couch, silently playing with the cards in his hand again, not the least bit uncomfortable with sharing your company in silence.
“I’m mad at you,” you say matter of factly, taking a bite of a french fry. At this point, the alcohol is doing the talking.
“Mad at me?” Rafe stops shuffling the cards and raises his head to look at you, intrigued.
“Yeah because you didn’t come to the club,” you furrow your brows, chucking a fry at him. He catches it instantly, laughing to himself with a shake of his head.
“Don’t worry I saw all your guys’ snaps, I feel like I was practically there.”
“That’s not the same,” you frown, throwing another fry which he catches yet again.
“I’ll try to be there next time,” he laughs.
“That’s better I guess,” you grumble, eating another chicken nugget. The room grows quiet, Rafe training his attention back to the cards.
“When are we watching the next episode Cameron,” you break the silence, chucking another fry. He barely has to look up to catch your latest throw, shaking his head with a chuckle. He puts the cards down and makes his way over to the dining table, standing right above you now.
“Come on, time for you to go to bed,” he beckons you toward him with his arm, to which you only furrow your brows in indignation.
“I’m not done with my food,” you protest.
“Now you are,” he says, grabbing your last fry and finishing it with one bite. “Now c’mon.” You reluctantly grab onto his extended arm to help you get up. You walk down the hall together and he opens your door for you, letting you in as he leans against the frame. You immediately fall back and collapse on to your bed with a gasp, you didn’t remember it feeling so soft when you were sober.
“Goodnight L/n,” Rafe laughs, staring down at you.
“Goodnight Rafe,” you mumble, seconds away from passing out. He smiles to himself at the sight of you still in the outfit and shoes you had been out in, bent in surely the most uncomfortable position possible, legs half way off the bed, yet somehow already asleep. He’s about to head back to his room, but he hesitates, turning back to you with a sigh. As slowly and quietly as he can, he pulls your shoes off for you, lifts your legs onto the bed, and covers you in your blanket. And just as quick, he slips out of your room and back into his.
—-
You wake up the next morning, letting out a groan when you realize you’re still in the outfit you had worn clubbing. Your head dully aches and your throat is desert dry so you force yourself up and to the kitchen. When you see the aftermath of McDonald’s containers on the table, vague memories start flooding your brain in horror. You couldn’t have… could you? Did you actually throw french fries at him? You close your eyes and slowly run your hand over your face in realization. Great, you think to yourself, Rafe probably thinks you’re an annoying idiot. Good grief.
You hear the door of the flat opening and Olivia appears in the kitchen, holding a plate of breakfast sandwiches, your mouth watering at the sight.
“Thank the lovely lads in apartment 4E,” she laughs, placing them on the table. “Oh god, we went hard last night didn’t we,” she says, taking in the sight of the flat.
“A little too hard…” you remark.
“No such thing, darling! Now eat up and get dressed, we’ve got a match to catch,” she declares before disappearing down the hall where you can hear muffled groans of Millie being reluctantly dragged out of her bed. You sigh and sink down into a chair, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite. Heaven. You make a mental note to thank Jake for his chef skills. You had completely forgotten that you and the girls were supposed to go watch Rafe and Topper’s match today. Your worries about having to face Rafe yesterday had been quick to melt away, but today they were back with a new vengeance.
—-
“Okay no one wander off when we get there. Y/n, fair warning, these games get… rowdy,” Millie says, as the three of you walk toward the field, arms linked.
“Things get pretty crazy at Kildare too,” you laugh, “so yeah, don’t fucking let me out of your sight.”
The three of you shake off your fits of laughter as you stumble toward the stands, finding a spot amongst the already packed crowd. You’re finally able to take in your surroundings, glancing at the field ahead. The opposing team is warming up on the pitch, clad in red. Westheath’s team is off to the side, the boys stretching and getting ready in their white uniforms. The dirty blonde immediately catches your eye. He’s jumping and jogging in place, headphones in as though he’s tuning out the physical noise around him, and probably the mental noise too. You wonder if he’s listening to one of the songs he showed you the other night.
He pauses his jogging to stretch out his arms, his eyes glazing over the stands, when suddenly they lock with yours. Your cheeks flush pink, embarrassed at having been caught staring, but his face just pulls into a wide grin and he gives you a wave. You wave back, and he does a quick hand motion that everyone does at Kildare games back home. You laugh and do the responding gesture, as he smiles cheekily at you before a teammate comes up to him, pulling his focus away. The exchange was brief, but oddly intimate. There was a whole field and a couple dozen people between you, and yet you two were the only witnesses to the interaction. You smile to yourself, relief in the fact that maybe getting a french fry chucked at him wasn’t enough to make him hate you after all. You wonder briefly if Rafe spends half as much time overanalyzing things the way you do. Liam was right, you do insist on overcomplicating things.
“Hey, earth to Y/n!” Olivia laughs, waving her hand in front of your face. “The game is starting!”
—
The final score flashes on the screen: 4-2, a win for Westheath. The students are going nuts, rushing the field. Olivia and Millie lead the way, pushing through the crowd until you guys reach Rafe and Topper.
“Let’s go boys!!” Olivia yells, jumping up and down with the sea of bodies and beer around you. Rafe and Topper react with equal enthusiasm, pulling each of you in for a hug. You and Rafe are the last to hug, him pulling you in brief but close against his large sweaty body, arms wrapped around you. You don’t even mind the stickiness of the hug, feeling deja vu at the warm feeling of being in his embrace again; a feeling that is foreign yet familiar, one you hadn’t felt before.
“Did you guys see Rafe’s goal in the second half!?” Topper asks, clapping his friend on the back.
“Of course we did, super star!” Millie cheers, giving Rafe a high five as he humbly shakes his head and laughs at his friends. The mental image of his goal was burned in your head, one that your mind would certainly play for you involuntarily over the next coming days.
“Alright we gotta go do some stuff with the team, but everyone’s going to Central Bar later. See you guys there?” Rafe asks.
“You got it,” Olivia replies, and they jog off with quick waves, you meeting those blue eyes in silent acknowledgement once again. It was that gaze that always made the rest of the world seem to disappear while his eyes met yours, making your heart skip a beat. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Just a tall, attractive, soccer-playing friend…
—
“Y/n! Liv! We’re doing a round!” Jake calls you and Olivia over to where him and Liam are already at the bar, four shot glasses ordered and lined up.
“On three! One, two-“ Liam chants, as the four of you down the alcohol. Central Bar had been buzzing with what felt like half of Westheath’s student body all day. After the game, you and the girls had gone back to your flat to nap and eat, before meeting up with Jake, Liam, and the rest of their boys to head to the bar. Rafe and Topper were already pretty buzzed when you guys got there, playing a round of table tennis with you before the rest of the soccer team and their other friends pulled their attention away. You couldn’t help the way your whole body tensed when Rafe greeted Lily with a tight hug, humbling you with the confirmation that Rafe’s actions toward you weren’t anything special. You resolved yourself to a night of drinking and dancing your worries away with Liv and Liam instead.
“Alright, round of table tennis? You two against me and Y/n?” Liam challenges.
“Please, I saw Y/n playing before, you guys have nothing on us,” Olivia flashes an evil smile, her competitive side coming out.
“Oh it’s on Liv,” you laugh, as your foursome stakes your claim at the pong table. While Olivia and Jake gather the balls and paddles, you notice Liam grimacing off into the distance. You follow his line of sight, landing on Topper and Millie drunkenly dancing together across the bar, a bit too close for comfort.
“What is she doing with that geezer,” he mumbles.
“Liam! Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” you gasp in mock disbelief.
“I’m not jealous,” he scoffs, and you quickly realize that he actually is, even though you had just been joking. Your jaw falls slack as you put two and two together. Liam and Millie were always by each other’s side, at school, at the pub, when you were all watching a movie at his apartment a few nights ago. He would tease her relentlessly and his own words rang in your ears If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.
“Shut up! Shut up!,” you whisper yell, hand coming to your mouth. “I should have realized this whole time… of course you like Millie! Everything you’ve been telling me you think exists between me and Rafe has actually been about her! She’s your Uno reverse card!” You’re shocking even yourself at these revelations.
“No no no, you can’t use my own words of wisdom against me, that’s not how this works Y/n. So what, maybe I slightly give a shit about Millie? Who cares. Her and I both know that’s never gonna happen. I still stand by everything I said about you and Rafe so don’t think your getting off so easy on that.”
“Then tell me why you’re staring at Millie while Rafe hasn’t so much as glanced my way since the minute Lily Colts got here, hmm?”
“Oh Y/n, Y/n Y/n Y/n,” Liam tuts, shaking his head laughing as he turns to the game your group of four is about to begin. You don’t have the energy to argue with Liam over the matter right now, oblivious to the fact that Rafe had indeed been glancing your way, several times. In fact, he was glancing at you right now, as Liam reached his arm over yours to help you actually hold the paddle the right way. You just hadn’t been glancing back to notice, scared of what you may or may not see between him and Lily if you did.
—
The night dies down and it’s time for the pilgrimage back to your building. You’re walking with Millie when Liam quickly falls in step with you two. You give him a knowing smirk, to which he responds with a glare behind Millie’s back, but you let the two banter as you fall behind, now walking alone. You stare ahead, eyes mindlessly settling on Lily walking in between Callum and Henry at the front of the pack. You don’t notice the pair of legs that begin moving in pace next to your own.
“Tonight, by the way,” Rafe’s voice startles you as you jump next to him. He chuckles at the confusion written all over your face. “You asked last night when we’re watching the next episode. And my answer is tonight, L/n,” he states.
“Haven’t you been up since like the crack of dawn? Aren’t you tired?” you ask incredulously.
“Too tired for Game of Thrones? Never,” he scoffs, Liam’s words ringing in your ear. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.
“Well then tonight it is,” you smile. “Sorry about the french fries last night by the way,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk in front of you, cheeks burning.
“Seriously L/n, talk about a horrible throw. Room for improvement,” he jokes with a comforting smile, saving you from yourself.
“Good game by the way,” you add, grateful for the way he was letting you off.
“Thanks,” he looks at you, shoving his hands in his pocket. You turn to look at him too, and after a few moments laughter is taking you both apart. Nothing funny was said. Neither of you knew why you were laughing. And yet it felt natural, not an ounce of awkwardness in the air.
As your whole group walks into the building, people begin to peel off, splitting towards staircases and off elevator stops.
“I’m fucking beat,” yawns Topper, as you and all your flatmates file into your hall.
“I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight,” Millie yawns in agreement. One by one everyone files off into their rooms. You open your door, backing into yours, Rafe across the hall from you backing into his. Laughter tugs at both your faces once again, as you let your doors close. You manage to change into your sweats and brush your teeth before you hear the light rap on your door. Rafe enters, in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants, your weakness. But you feel comfortable being alone with him now. The Rafe jitters had finally began to subside.
“Alright L/n, episode 4, you ready for this?” he asks, plopping down in his spot next to you.
“Oh I’m very ready,” you reply, sitting up to reach for your laptop which was resting by your feet. As you lean back, you find yourself in Rafe’s arm. He had extended it out before you sat back, effortlessly catching you against him. His hand rests casually on your arm, and you gulp, pressing play. You pray he can’t feel the way your heartbeat quickens and your body flushes. So much for those jitters being gone.
The episode plays, you and Rafe making comments here and there before your chatter eventually dies down, leaving just the sound of the show to fill the room. You can feel Rafe’s body lean further and further down, becoming heavier and breathing slower. You very slowly turn to check, and sure enough he’s fast asleep. You sigh, and shut your laptop, careful not to stir him. You could easily shake him awake, tell him to go to his bed, but for some reason you don’t. You don’t mind him here. In fact, you almost prefer it, his body heat keeping you warm. He had already slept over once before and it clearly hadn’t been a big deal, so what was the harm in letting it happen again? You’re just friends after all, you remind yourself, not sure who you’re trying to convince. And so, the two friends fall asleep in the same bed again.
---
🏷: @hopebaker @pogueslandia @mardema
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Stuck With You
“Hey, babe.” Link’s practically frostbitten cheeks burned against Amelia’s as he leant down to greet her with a kiss. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Amelia smiled, rubbing her stomach in a small circular motion. “I wasn’t expecting the morning sickness to last this long.” Link couldn’t help but grin at his girlfriend who looked picture perfect in her oversized woolen sweater and newly formed bump. “What’s so funny?” She grinned back at him.
“Nothing, I’m just lucky,” he replied with a shrug.
“Yeah, I’m sure you were thinking the same thing this morning when you were holding my hair back to keep me from spewing chunks in it.” She shook her head. Link chuckled, tugging off his flurry filled jacket and sitting down beside her. “I doubt we’re going to make it to Meredith’s for New Years at this rate.”
“Most people were cancelling at work. Other than half the staff who live at her place,” he joked. “I doubt anyone is going to be having too much fun tonight.”
“Oh, cause you’re stuck with me instead of drinking with your boys?” She teased.
“Right, Amelia, because I’d rather start the New Year with anyone other than you.” That received a small giggle and he pulled her onto his lap gently. “You feeling hungry? I was craving some soup with it being so cold.”
“That sounds perfect.” She nodded.
“Alright, up you get then.” Amelia gave a moan of protest as he lifted her to a standing position before tugging her hand into the kitchen. Luckily they had vegetable stock in the fridge so the rest was simple. Amelia sat at the island chairs while Link chopped the veggies and chicken before adding them to the pot to cook.
“No pasta?” Amelia whined.
“Why don’t you come over and help me rather than complaining?” Link chuckled. Amelia shot him a look of exasperation before joining him in the kitchen. She searched through the cupboard before finding her favourite bow shaped noodles and adding them to the pot. Link wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head as she stirred. “Smells good,” he mused.
“Thanks, it was all me.” She received a poke in the side for that comment. The couple waited patiently for the soup to cook before spooning it into bowls and setting the rest in the fridge for leftovers.
“What do you want to watch?” Amelia asked from her place on his chest as she lifted a spoonful of veggies into her mouth.
“I don’t really care.” Link shrugged, absentmindedly wiping a drop of broth from her cheek with his sleeve. Amelia put on some random documentary as the true crime junkie she was and settled into his lap comfortably.
“Not while we’re eating,” Link complained as the narrator ran over some graphic evidence.
“You’re trying to tell me that you’ve got a queasy stomach,” she asked, “when you shove people’s bones back in place for a living?” Unapologetically, Link set his ceramic bowl on their coffee table and swallowed with distaste.
“You were the one throwing up all day,” he grumbled.
“And whose fault was that?” Amelia batted her lashes, never allowing Link to forget that it was his fault for impregnating her.
“Alright, then.” Link picked up the tv remote and clicked the off button before throwing the device far enough away on the couch that Amelia wouldn’t attempt to go after it. “I just want to talk to you, I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” Amelia’s irritated expression washed away.
“Fine,” she grumbled before pulling out her phone. Link almost threw that across the couch too before realizing which app she was searching for. “Our baby is the size of a mango today,” she stated proudly. “I can feel him getting heavier.” She placed his hand on the underside of her belly and smiled as he acknowledged the new weight there. “His lungs are apparently developing,” she squinted at her phone, “and he might start kicking soon.”
“That’s exciting, babe.” Link rubbed her back tenderly and she relaxed into his touch.
“I didn’t get that with Christopher.” She frowned. “I mean there were phantom kicks...but I don’t know how they’re actually supposed to feel.” “Well we’ll find out soon, I guess,” he offered, not really sure what to say.
“Yeah, exactly,” she said more brightly than he knew she was feeling. “You finished your soup?” She asked, slowly standing up with the assistance from his hand on her back. He nodded as she stacked his bowl on top of her own and made her way back into the kitchen. He followed her cautiously, noticing that she was deep in thought and messaged her neck as she wordlessly did the dishes. Link knew she wasn’t supposed to start nesting until her third trimester but he’d noticed, with amusement, how much of a neat freak she had become over the last couple of weeks.
“You dry?” She finally asked, handing him the pot.
“Sure,” he replied, moving to stand beside her. They stood in silence for a couple of moments longer before he asked, “have you ever heard of a babymoon?”
“Huh?” she replied, her hands deep in soapy water.
“It’s like a honeymoon...kinda but not really.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s like a trip you take before the baby comes. Like to celebrate the last time you’ll be together, just the two of you.”
“Sounds kind of dreary when you put it that way,” Amelia chuckled lightly. “It’s not like our lives are ending.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Link backpedaled. “It’s just to spend some time together before the baby comes.”
“Link, I’m teasing. That sounds really nice,” she assured him.
“Okay, cool.” He sighed with relief.
“I mean I think I deserve it if you can’t manage to give me an actual honeymoon.”
“What, I--”
“Link.” She rolled her eyes. “Teasing, again.”
“You suck,” he growled, flinging droplets of soapy water in her direction.
“Oh, really?” She taunted, spraying an enormous amount of water at him and soaking him from head to toe. “Shit.” She went to wipe suds from his cheekbone and slipped, landing embarrassingly on her ass.
“You okay?” The urgency in his voice immediately ended the joke.
“Link, I’m fine,” she winced.
“Are you sure? We could go to the hospital and--”
“I promise,” she confirmed. He breathed a sigh of relief, hovering over her and surveying her quickly. “Link, I mean it. You can get off of me.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” He grinned cheekily, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips before pulling away and leaving her wanting more.
“Okay, come back,” she whined, ignoring the fact that her clothes were soaked with dishwater.
“Nah, let’s get you in the shower. You’re all wet.” He smirked, pulling off her clothes shamelessly as he led her into their bathroom.
[][][]
Surprisingly, it was Amelia who convinced Link to stay up till twelve. Usually she was passed out at eleven tops with Link lying awake in bed for hours, deep with worries about parenting, the environment and everything else that he’d be bringing a baby into.
“It’s the baby’s first New Years,” she argued, pulling the fluffy white towel around her dripping body.
“The baby’s first New Years is a year from now,” he groaned from their bed. The hot shower and the amount of cardio he’d just performed had practically knocked him out and he wasn’t sure if he could keep his eyes open for the next half hour.
“Well it’s our first New Years.” She had him with that one. Link sighed before opening his arm to allow her to crawl in beside him. “Fine, I’ll stay up.” He didn’t. Link conked out about a minute later and their bedroom was filled with his soft snores almost immediately. Amelia sighed, running her hand through his hair and kissing his forehead lightly. She picked up a medical journal she’d been flipping through throughout the day and cuddled up beside him.
“Link,” Amelia shook her boyfriend awake.
“Huh?” His groggy voice responded before his eyes shot open. “Is the baby coming? Are you having contractions?”
“Uh, no.” She remarked. “You’re about four months too early.” Link nodded, swallowing nervously and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was what was keeping him up most nights. “It’s almost midnight.”
“Oh,” he breathed. “Sorry for falling asleep.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I just wanted my New Year’s kiss.” Link glanced at the clock and grinned before placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Was that what you were hoping for?”
“Mhmm.” She bobbed her head. “Thank you.”
short cute domestic fic hope u enjoy! didn’t have time to edit so I probs will tmrw but I wanted to get it up for y’all.
#amelink#amelia shepherd#AmeliaShepherd#amelinkfanfiction#amelink fanfiction#link#Atticus Lincoln#atticus link#atticuslincoln#greysanatomy
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I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Seven
Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3 C.4 C.5 C.6
Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, platonic dlampr.
okay. so. last time we heard anything out of me was *New Years*, Literally, and maybe i should’ve mentioned that I was taking a little hiatus, but oh well. i’m back now and i’m gonna post the last three chapters of this fanfiction as soon as I possibly can (so probably like all of them will be up by tmrw at the latest!!) to make up for my absence. but jokes on you, cuz I did actually finish this thing!!! >:P
(oh yeah, and there are no italics, thanks to tumblr’s copy/paste bulls//t. i continue to be lazy :3 if anything sounds stilted just imagine that theres an italicized word there and yeah.)
Warnings: cursing, sexual innuendo, discussions of sexuality, misunderstandings, Emotional Conversations, sharing a bed, mild body horror (remus’ existence lol), stress, h/c.
Word count: 7,967
The hallway was cold, and dark. It had been long-since abandoned of any life, with every door shut and each light dimmed- even Virgil’s. That day- the day of the meeting- had exhausted everyone enough to send them right to sleep mode.
Everyone except Remus and Patton.
Their heart-to-heart in the kitchen had dragged on a little longer than either had expected, letting night descend fully over the Mindpalace. Patton was the one to notice the time eventually, and drag his less-than-restful friend up the stairs with him- he could tell that the other was dead tired, though. His stubborn determination not to end the conversation didn’t sit well, but Patton couldn’t think what to make of it, and they really did need some sleep.
They reached Patton’s door first. He stopped in front of it, when Remus tugged his hand back insistently. He turned to him, letting out a confused hum, and was met with a scowl and a sigh.
Remus was looking even more resigned than he had when they first started talking that night. Patton waited, worried.
“This isn’t, um,” Remus exhaled, ragged around the edges. “This isn’t a pick-up line, okay, and I know that it’ll sound that way and I know that it’s me but. I really don’t wanna be alone tonight.”
Oh.
Patton’s heart ached- and his heart was big, it took up most of him. He felt the pain spread out from his center and into his fingertips and toes, hot and empathetic. Because how could he hear something like that, and not want to spend the rest of the night doting on the creature in front of him until that voice never sounded so small again, till he was as big and confident as he was meant to be?
“I don’t think I want to be alone, either,” Patton said.
Remus stared, his big scarlet eyes casting a faint glow in the dark. They were wide, cautiously hopeful.
“Yeah?” He muttered.
“Yeah.”
Patton opened the door, and led them both inside.
Remus shuffled around on the other side of the bed, but Patton was still, however much he wanted to squirm.
“Um.”
The movement stopped, and he flushed at the feeling of being watched in the dark. There really was no un-awkward way to say it, was there?
“Remus, since you’re staying, do you- um, do you mind doing me a favor?”
Remus, little more than a silhouette, propped himself up on his elbow, a tilt to his head. “A favor? Of course, anything for you, Pat,” his words were a purr, and Patton could envision the suggestive smirk on his face in perfect clarity. Patton felt another well of discomfort bubble in his stomach.
“Could you at least wear some clothes, please?”
There was a beat. Remus laughed, short and good-natured.
“Yeah, I sorta figured I would. It’s no problem.”
“Thank you,” Patton sighed, relieved.
“Don’t worry about it,” he paused, and that really would’ve been the end of it, but Patton had learned by then when Remus was about to make a joke. He took a little breath while the words were still clicking together in his head, and a grin crept into his voice. “There’s always tomorrow night to try this clothesless, eh?”
“I’m asexual,” Patton blurted, and he could feel the heat radiating from his face, though he didn’t even know why he was so uncomfortable. It was a joke, Remus was just joking. They were friends and Patton should’ve been used to it- but he’d already gotten so sensitive that night, and jokes like that always hit just a little different than the violent ones or the curses. It must have been a breaking point, or something.
Remus shifted again, laying on his back. Patton wondered if he’d made things awkward.
“Oh,” Remus said, “Oh wow, that makes so much sense!”
“It- It does?” Patton sat up, staring at the other with a mix of surprise and relief. Remus blinked up at him, nodding.
“Well, yeah, that explains why you get so squirmy whenever anybody even implies something to do with sex. I always thought you were just, like, a prude.”
Patton ran his hands over the comforter that pooled around his legs, shrugging. He wasn’t nervous, so much as he was fidgety. “Well, maybe it was some of that, too,” he joked.
Remus snorted, rolling onto his side and catching one of Patton’s hands in his own. He held it, playing with Patton’s fingers like he was trying to focus.
“Hey,” he sighed, heavy, “Sorry.”
“Huh? What for?”
“C’mon, you know,” Remus gestured around with his free hand, “All the jokes, and all the times I hit on you, like, graphically. I was kidding, obviously, it was just that you always had the best reactions. If I’d known why, I mean. I don’t know if I’d have actually stopped, but whatever. Different time, different me. I’m stopping now, kay?”
Patton’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t- He wasn’t trying to make Remus stop, that wasn’t fair. He knew how important staying true to himself was to Remus, and if he’d actually managed to guilt-trip any of that away, he didn’t think he’d forgive himself.
“Oh, it’s really okay, I mean- I know you like talking about stuff like that, who am I to say you shouldn’t?”
“You never said that, actually.”
Patton nodded, even if Remus couldn’t see him, and even if he was pretty sure they were on different pages. “Exactly. You shouldn’t go changing just to make me comfortable, I’ll get used to the jokes! I guess I just wanted to know that they were, which, obviously yeah, but… um, I’m bad with knowing what tone is which, sometimes, so-”
“Ugh, Patton,” Remus was laughing, leaning up and grasping tighter around Patton’s hand, with a tone that said plainly: please shut up. Patton did, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look,” Remus huffed, “I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s real sweet that you’re so worried about this, but it’s not exactly like I’m telling you that I’m reinventing myself. I’ll definitely keep saying plenty of horny shit, trust me, I can just drop it with the comments about ya. It wouldn’t even be funny anymore; fucking with people is cool, right, but making someone I actually like feel ‘icky’, or whatever, isn’t really the same thing. It’s no big sacrifice trying to make you feel safer with me, got it?”
Remus’ eyes were on his, glowing with concern. Patton felt his face flush for an entirely new reason, nothing to do with embarrassment.
“You want to make me feel safe?” Patton grinned, just this side of giddy. “That’s a new one.”
Remus made a vague grumbly sound; it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. “Yeah, okay, so what if I do?”
“It’s okay if you do. It’s sweet.”
“Maybe it is. Besides, you aren’t the only aspec side around,” he shrugged, “I’m not too big on the dating side of things, myself.”
Patton’s smile widened. “Thank you. I mean, for understanding, and… getting me out of my own head about all this.”
“I gotcha,” a claw traced over Patton’s knuckles, idly, “No need for thanks.”
“I’ll give it anyway, you know that.”
Remus snorted. “Mhmmm.”
With the remains of embarrassment finally fading away, Patton yawned, and remembered just how tired he was. He laid himself down finally, relaxing as his back hit the mattress. No sooner after he’d done so, Remus was letting go of his hand in favor of curling around him and setting his head on Patton’s chest.
Patton would be lying if he said it wasn’t a relief, feeling the other unhesitant to curl up against him still. He looped his own arms around the smaller figure, practically on top of him, and traced patterns against Remus’ back.
In hindsight, Patton couldn’t remember ever falling asleep so easily.
The morning after, there was a crisis. A Thomas-crisis, and an emotional one, which set Patton up for a busy, busy day (or morning-through-afternoon, but it was well more than enough work for one day). The one upside to the whole mess was that he didn’t have to deal with it alone, because emotional distress fell neatly into Virgil’s area of expertise as well as his own.
At some point, you’d think they’d get numb to the endless dilemmas every other day, but with each new outing it got clearer and clearer that panic was just a part of life. Most weeks had at least one incident; there would be a mistake at the post office that needed to be worked out in person (which Patton didn’t mind, really, but Virgil hated, and Roman thought was a waste of time), there was an event for a friend of a friend that for some reason they were socially obligated to go to (which no one liked but Roman, who always thought they were one person away from being ‘discovered’), or- the present situation- there were pre-established plans that all the sides had somehow forgotten about until they were shoved into it at the last second.
Patton jolted awake with a gasp, the urgency of his human throwing him out of sleep. It was a full two hours later than he usually woke up, something he would’ve loved to appreciate on any other day. His bed was already empty- the warmth of another person still there, the covers still scrunched, but empty- which did serve to make his morning routine quicker. He dressed with a fervor that he couldn’t even place, manic exhaustion already soaking into him and making plans to stay there all day. It was going to be a rough one, being around people.
But, Patton knew it wouldn’t be hard to ignore all that, for a little bit at least. There was still a bright side, and that side was Virgil! Who he got to spend all day with! Working, sure, but still- work done with a loved one is never work at all.
“Yeah, I don’t know if that rings true, Pat,” was Virgil’s response to the sentiment, when Patton told him.
“You’re smiling,” Patton said, because he was.
“What?” Virgil covered his mouth, “No, I’m not- shut up.”
“You believe me, I know you do. You looove me.”
“Says you,” his mouth may have been covered, but the crows feet under his eyes creased more. His shoulders were just a little less tense, too, enough to tell Patton he was right.
That morning wasn’t great, but, they made it better.
Remus had woken up in a lot of places that were decisively not his bed. The floor? Sure. The imagination? Oh, absolutely. Underneath furniture, on top of furniture, and on counters- anywhere lie-down-able, been there and done that. Just for the fun of it, really, and a nice shock to whoever found him curled up in the sink or beneath cabinets. He was used to a crick in the neck or a splotch of red, rough carpet print on the side of the face.
So he didn’t really know why, waking up in someone else’s bed, he jolted out of it so quick, he looked like he’d been electrocuted. Or why, after scrambling out of Patton’s arms with whatever carefulness he could manage, he bolted from the scene entirely.
Remus began the slow process of piecing it together after he all but slammed the door behind him, trembling and cursing his way down the hall. He dragged away from Patton’s room and let his back hit the wall, sliding to the floor with a kind of hysteria he could only describe as itchy-vomity-terrifying-amazing.
He did itch at his skin, he was feeling a bit sick, a bit scared, but he thought he might’ve been grinning anyway, so the description fit well enough. Except, nothing was fitting actually well, right then.
The closeness. The attention. The fact that he’d spent eight hours of sleep getting a full dosage of both those things. The fact that it had been more of both of them than he could remember getting, ever. Of course he’d scrambled away- how else could he react!?
Remus didn’t get overwhelmed. Except, apparently he did! What another fun surprise!
A door creaked open down the hall (thank God not Patton’s). Remus felt the eyes on him, and looked up- manically, he looked well and truly manic.
Logan blinked at him. He looked a lot like an owl in the mornings, Remus noted. One of those smart ones, obviously, not one of the ones that fucks around counting licks on a lollipop.
Logan cleared his throat.
“Remus? Is everything alright?”
Remus shrugged, grinning. “Maybe! Who knows, though, right? It’s a lot, you know?”
Logan did not know, and said as much. Remus only laughed, letting his head hit back against the wall in the process.
He still felt warm, inside and out, after all that cuddling. It was weird, good-weird, but still so new. And, like he said, a lot. He’d felt that kind of warmth before, but definitely not as much- and he knew he needed to distract himself before he went crazy. Or, before his rattrap of a brain ruined the maybe-possibly good feelings for him.
“Hey, any chance you’re busy today?”
Logan hovered in his doorway for a minute before ultimately deciding to step out, probably determining the interaction as a prolonged one. He didn’t look too put-off about it, though.
“A very high chance,” he said, “But for now I am not. Is there something you need?”
“A distraction.”
“Ah.”
“So, you up for it?” Remus pulled himself up from the floor, popping a few joints. “At least for the morning, yeah, Geek?”
“Of course,” he smirked, “Provided you can call me by actual name at least once in this conversation.”
Remus grinned, probably coming off more relieved than he intended. “Eh, we’ll see about that one, Dweeb.”
Logan met him halfway down the hall, not looking at all surprised by the response. He looked, if anything, amused. Remus found himself remembering very abruptly that the two of them got along, were probably friends, and somehow that fact was still novel to him. Or maybe it was the mood. Probably both.
“Well, it was worth a try,” Logan reasoned.
“Oh, sure.”
“What were you thinking we should do, anyway?”
Remus raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“I’m afraid that’s off the table,” Logan told him.
“Aw, fine. Surprise me, then.”
“That will be hard.”
Remus laughed, unsteady and shrill.
“C’mon, I know you’ve got it in ya.”
Logan smiled, just-nearly-almost mischievous. “Well. I’ll see what I can do.”
And for just a second, some of the panic slipped away, leaving behind that strange warmth.
Patton didn’t exactly let Janus know he was coming by. It had been a long day- or, a long five hour period between ten in the morning and three in the afternoon, but still, the idea that there was any day left at all made Patton want to melt into the nearest soft object and never get up.
When Patton needed to melt, he went to Janus’. Maybe it was the big armchairs; maybe it was the comforting, gooey little white-lies that soaked the atmosphere of his room; maybe it was the fact that his voice was so very easy to fall asleep to. Most likely, at least part of it was because he always seemed to enjoy taking care of people, anyway.
It was a nice combination, and exactly what was needed. Patton could apologize for not knocking later, ideally when he wasn’t falling asleep where he stood.
“Janusss,” he groaned, by way of greeting, and promptly collapsed onto the nearest soft surface while the door swung shut behind him.
Janus blinked at him from across the room, surprise lasting for approximately three seconds. He turned around, and sighed.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
Patton hummed, drearily.
“You look cheery,” Janus quipped, “Anything you’d like to talk about?”
The question was spoken lightly, but not insincere. Patton lifted his head enough to smile tiredly at the snake. He shrugged, for the room was working it's magic already, as was the easy company to be found there. Stress was easing away, in small bits, evaporating into warm shimmers under his skin. He had no doubt that Janus was doing some of it on purpose, as soon as he’d noticed the mood Patton was in, giving him a blanket of speckled reassurances (which were, as Janus insisted to him time and time again, just a tiny, harmless breed of pleasant lies) in an almost-literal way.
Most things about the sides’ rooms were like that. Almost-literal; concepts that crept their way into the physical world, if only slightly. Janus was the best at those kinds of things, though.
“’S just been a tiring day, y’know?”
Janus sat beside him, toying with some spare yellow strings, weaving and unweaving them almost carelessly. “I do.”
“A tiring night, too,” Patton added, an afterthought, but he found as he said so that it was true. Long in a good way. An impactful way. It felt like something important had happened, something that changed, but he didn't quite know what. It was still just as draining, though.
Janus raised an eyebrow, but he did not pry (even if he most likely wanted to).“So, you’ve come here.”
“Do you mind if I just rest in here for a bit?” He said, as he’d already gotten quite comfortable.
“Why don’t I do you one better?”
Patton hummed confusedly, but Janus had already begun urging him to sit up. The snake waved a hand, filling the room with light, swirling piano music. At once the air seemed to grow fuzzy, spicks and specks of what looked like golden glitter floating around- not unlike from the distortion Patton’s own room gave him when he was happy. Janus smiled down at him, summoning a neat little tea set on a tray and fixing them each a cup of the swirling, caramel-colored liquid.
Patton sighed happily, taking the teacup he was proffered and thanking the lord for whatever he’d done to deserve a friend like Janus.
Janus sat beside him, balancing the tea tray on an end table, and let their shoulders bump. He wasn’t a touchy person, exactly, but he allowed for a conservative amount of casual intimacy. Occasionally, and in an unspoken way, but still.
The atmosphere had exactly the intended effect. Patton felt paradisiacal.
“Gosh, what would any of us do without you?”
Janus hummed. “You’d most certainly perish.”
Patton laughed, his chest lighter already.
Remus felt good for about ten seconds after leaving Logan’s room and letting the guy get to work, fresh off the good morning he’d had. Then, very promptly, the weight that the remaining hours of daylight carried dropped onto his shoulders, and he would’ve been perfectly willing to claw his brain out to get a moment of reprieve from the whole barrage of irrational terror worming around in it.
Remus didn’t know why it was so bad that day (well- he had a guess, but thinking about it obviously made it suck worse, so). What he did know was that he needed someone to keep fucking distracting him, and that someone could under no circumstances be Patton.
Luckily, avoiding him wasn’t hard- he was still busy, and Remus had a feeling he’d need a rest once Thomas’ crisis was over, anyway- but that didn’t do much to solve the other half of Remus’ problem.
He needed something big, loud, and most importantly, not solo. He needed someone that could take up a whole room just as easily as himself, with endless energy to bounce back and forth, back and forth, until neither of them would ever worry about anything other than the moment and whatever it was they would do together…
Oh, god fucking dammit.
Remus sunk out to the Imagination. No, not his. The opposite half.
He rose up into more than a blank canvas, but less than a finished work; a vibrant world with gaps and white spots. He might’ve taken the time to look around, but- unsurprisingly- his brother was in front of him, accosting him, immediately. Seriously, it was like he’d teleported.
“What are you doing here?” Roman snapped, his hands, still splattered with ink, landing on his hips.
“Aw, so now I’m not even allowed to visit my own flesh and blood, and other various parts?”
Roman scrunched his nose up. “No, you aren’t allowed. This is my room!”
Remus- as he always did when someone said he couldn’t do something- cackled.
“I’m serious!” Roman whined, “I’m busy!”
Now, he said that, but Remus knew from personal experience that if Roman wanted him gone, he could’ve forced him out without too much issue- or worse yet, attacked him outright. He didn’t seem to be about to spring, though, not looking any worse than annoyed, so Remus happily decided that this interaction fell into the normal-and-healthy-sibling-bickering category instead of the unfortunately familiar would-genuinely-commit-fratricide-if-possible category.
He grinned. “Yeah, and I’m bored!”
“Not my problem, and you’re still in my room.”
“What, worried I’ll gunk up all your magic ponies and Yellow Brick Roads, or whatever it is you like to play with around here?”
“Yes, I am!” Roman scowled, but it looked a lot like he was straining his jaw not to laugh. “And you know I don’t make those, you fiend, I made a unicorn once and that was only because Logan wanted one.”
“You’re shitting me if you say that you weren’t the kid who always wanted a pony, Ro.”
“Well, how’s a pony any better than a thestral, which I seem to remember someone getting all excited about when we first read the-books-that-shall-not-be-named?”
“Ooh! Good idea, we should abso-fucking-lutely make those!” Remus wandered past his brother, looking around at the half-finished scene that he’d walked in on. It was sunny, pleasant- all around very vanilla, but there was at least a sense of adventure thrumming under it that gave the place a kick. With some work, it could actually be, like, fun! “Ever see somebody die? Don’t worry, I can help with that.”
Roman turned to him, looking hilariously incredulous with what was happening.
“Um? Excuse me? This is my domain,” he blinked, and a smug smirk crossed his lips. “Which means that you don’t have the power to make anything here! So, ha!”
Oh, right. That made a lot of sense, actually. How had he forgotten that? It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d tried to make something with his brother, right?
…Wow. That had no business hurting as much as it did.
“Uh- Remus?”
His head snapped up, a smile with too-many teeth already strained across his face. Remus’ head was scattered enough, coming here wasn’t supposed to make it worse.
“Sure, okay- there’s gotta be some way for us to build stuff together!”
Roman stared appraisingly at his sibling, apparently thinking before he argued for the one and only time in his life. He tilted his head in confusion, perhaps worry.
“I- well-” Roman glanced at what he’d been making, and down at his hands. “I’m sure I could, perhaps, let you have power here. Just this once.” He huffed. “It’s my room, right? So there’s no reason why I couldn’t do that, if I wanted.”
“Do you?”
“Ugh.” Roman rolled his eyes, perfunctorily. “Fine. I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’d rather you be your normal weird-self than… whatever this is,” Roman stuck his hand out, his chin raised like it was a challenge. “Good?”
Remus grabbed his hand (and did not buzzer him, or slime him, even though it would have been so easy- because they were having A Moment and even he could appreciate the sanctity of something like that).
“Yeah,” he said. “We’re good.”
Roman, as it turned out, was able to tolerate Remus for a whopping six hours, right up until five p.m., and only shooed him away in order to finish the project that he’d more-or-less happily dropped when Remus stopped by. So Roman wasn’t the worst brother in the world, Remus acknowledged. He then resolved to never, under any circumstances, say that to Roman’s face.
The door to the Imagination shut with a click. The sound matched almost perfectly with another, sharper one down the hall, what Remus recognized as Janus’ door closing. He glanced up with a grin, wondering if he could maybe get Snakey to distract him for a while- only to lock eyes with precisely what he needed distracting from.
Patton smiled at him. He looked tired, relaxed, and raised a hand in some semblance of a wave. It would probably be a great opportunity to unwind together, talk stuff out, and definitely curl into each other on the couch.
Remus wasn’t going to take that opportunity, though.
Remus stared back at Patton for all of three seconds, the grin sliding off his face, before barging through the nearest door and slamming it behind himself.
Shit. Fuck. What the hell did he do that for? It was just Patton, Remus knew Patton; there was no reason to be jittery enough to bolt from him twice. There was no way Patton wouldn’t think he was mad- which he wasn’t, even if he barely understood why he was losing it, he knew it wasn’t anger. But Patton wouldn’t know that, and he’d cry, probably, and Remus wasn’t sure if he was good enough at comforting people to fix it after. Christ, maybe he couldn’t fix it, maybe he’d still be too keyed up to talk to Pat, even if he started bawling!
“Hey? What the fuck?”
Remus spun around, and yeah, he could’ve guessed whose room he ended up in without the gravelly voice to give it away, given that little spiral. A surprised-looking Virgil stared up at him, sitting cross-legged on a spiderweb bedspread.
Remus ignored the thin layer of anxiety still rolling under his skin (now that he could place it), and shrugged, sliding until he sat on the floor.
“Oh, hi,” he said.
“Yeah, hi to you too, but my question still stands:” Virgil clapped his hands together, “What. The fuck?”
Remus considered a few possible snarky responses, but found that most of them were pretty pathetic. Besides, evading vulnerable situations was more of Janus’ thing, and Remus didn’t want to steal his bit.
“I’m hiding like a little bitch, so don’t kick me out, or I’ll maul you.”
Virgil’s eyebrows went up, but the surprise in his face was being replaced, slowly, by confused resignation. “Okay, cool. Why here, and why me?”
“First door.”
“Yeah, that’s about my luck,” he blew his bangs out of his face, “So like, you’re not gonna go anywhere else?”
Remus thought about it, but it was an easy choice. If he was gonna whine to anybody about something like this, he decided, it’d probably be Virgil. Virgil was good with fear, he was good with Patton, and he was good at making fun of shit if a conversation got too serious.
“Nah. Sorry, Emo Boy, but I’ve already annoyed Logan and my dipshit brother today. Looks like it’s your turn!”
“What about Janus?”
“Eh, he’s a live-in therapist for the rest of you already. I think I’ll give him the day off.”
Virgil rolled his eyes, sighing with all the exasperation of a teenage burnout and not a thirty-year-old metaphysical humanoid.
“Okay, okay- and why’s Patton off the table? He, like, actually enjoys helping people,” Virgil glanced down, scuffing the carpet with the side of his foot. “He’s good at it, too.”
“Yeahhhh,” Remus locked his teeth together, inhaled through them, “About that.”
“What, aren’t you two all close now?” Virgil frowned, “I fuckin’ saw you guys at the meeting yesterday, you were so on top of each other, I feel like I forgot that you were two separate sides,” to anybody who didn’t know him, the way he talked about it would sound harsh. Remus, however, knew exactly how soft Virgil really was- the fucking poser- and that that shit? That was pure encouragement, raw as a bloody, bloody steak.
Which, of course, only made Remus wince again.
He flopped sideways onto the floor, groaning. “Yeah, we’re close. That’s- I think that might be the problem?” That sounded right, almost, but just wrong enough to feel icky and annoying. “Ugh, I don’t know. So I just ran!”
There was a beat.
“Wait a second,” Virgil’s voice was tight- oh that bitch, he was laughing! “You’re hiding from Patton?”
Remus huffed. Okay, so maybe it was a little funny, he could appreciate that- but! He was still upset about it!!
“I mean, what has he done to scare you off?” Virgil pressed, “Too many compliments? Did he hug you too hard? I know the dude can be a lot sometimes, but-”
“Okay, ok-ay,” Remus couldn’t help it, he managed a laugh at it, too. “It’s ridiculous! It’s fucking ridiculous and he’s not even the problem!”
“Then what is the problem?” Virgil was snickering, “And don’t say that it’s you, dude. At least one of us around here has to not hate himself to hell and back, and you’ve defended that title for too long to lose it,” he cleared his throat right after he said it, sitting up straighter and trying to look like he hadn’t just been laughing like a huge dork. “Not that I’m, like, worried about you or anything.”
“Aw, you so are,” Remus stared up at the ceiling, grinning despite the ache in his chest. “But no, it’s not that. He thinks I’m awesome and he’s right, so don’t worry.”
Virgil leaned over him, staring upside-down at Remus. He squinted.
“Hey, this a serious problem?”
“I guess so. You can joke about it, though.”
“Cool. Um,” Virgil pulled away. Remus sat up, watching the trait cross one leg over the other, flip them, then tap his knee one-two-three-etc. times. He chewed on his lip. The whole nine yards of a classic Focused-Virgil Face. “Okay. You can tell me about it, seriously. I’ll try to help, or whatever.”
Remus blinked at him.
“Don’t- Jesus- don’t make a big deal out of it, dude-”
“Oh, I am.”
“I don’t even have a choice, okay, you’re the one who-”
“You’re so sweet, Virgey!”
“Remus, I swear to God, repeat that to anyone and I…”
Virgil trailed off. Remus pouted at him, dramatically, his eyes practically glowing with mischief. “C’mon, aren’t you going to threaten me?”
“I was, and then I remembered that you’re like, actually into that kinda stuff, so. No. Nope, I’m good.”
“Fine,” he shrugged, “Looks like you’re resigned to just hearing about my feelings, instead!”
Virgil rolled his eyes again- of course he did- but there was no hiding the way he went quiet, patient, you could even call it attentive.
It was an offering, one that Remus didn’t hesitate to take.
Patton left Janus’ room in a good mood.
He was in a considerably less good mood when, as soon as he’d left, Remus saw him and scrambled away like Patton was about to attack him where he stood- wide-eyed with fear and everything.
Patton swayed in the hallway for seconds after, uncertain about a lot of things suddenly.
The room Remus had run into had definitely been Virgil’s, not his own, and for a moment Patton entertained the idea of just going up to knock. He dropped that thought quick, realizing that if he really wasn’t wanted, then he definitely didn’t want to confirm that he wasn’t wanted.
He might have gone back to Janus- Janus was smart, Janus knew how to explain things and solve problems and comfort people- but that was scrapped, too. He’d taken up plenty of the snake’s time already, firstly, and secondly… No, yeah, Patton already knew just who he needed to see for something like this.
Logan set aside his laptop as soon as Patton walked into the common room, a surprisingly perceptive gesture for someone who claimed to be bad with feelings. Or maybe Patton had just gotten rusty at hiding them.
“Hi,” he greeted, wobbly.
“Hello,” Logan said, “You look upset.”
Patton stared at the wall just above his friend’s head, and nodded.
“Can I help?”
He paused. It was a bad habit- one of many!- but feeling unwanted by one side made him wonder if, maybe, he was unwanted by everyone. The thought formed a lump in his throat and had guilt pooling in his gut, but this was Logan. His best friend, the person he had gone to because he always knew just where he stood with him. If Logan didn’t want to help- no, because he always wanted to- if he couldn’t handle helping, then he would tell Patton that. He always did.
“I think Remus is upset with me,” Patton blurted it out quickly, just so he didn’t have to hear them. Logan vanished his laptop at once, gesturing to the spot beside him on the sofa. Patton sat with him, smiling feebly.
“Has he said anything of the sort?”
“No,” Patton picked at the sleeve of his sweater, “He didn’t really have to. He kind of… ran away from me?”
Logan’s eyes widened behind his frames, almost imperceptibly. “I see.”
“I don’t even know what I did,” Patton flushed with the admission, because of just how true it was. He had no idea what he did, and still he felt blame settling over him like a well worn blanket, and all that he could do was hope it wasn’t as bad as the last time. “I feel like I should know this stuff by now, shouldn’t I?”
There was a pause, as Logan processed the words carefully, seemed to turn them over in his head.
“Be careful not to jump to conclusions, Patton. He typically freely expresses how he is feeling at any given time, so even if his actions seem to say otherwise, it’s entirely possible that he’s not upset with you,” Logan smiled reassuringly. “I find that most of his actions are meaningless. He’s a very weird creature.”
Patton managed to laugh at that. Logan leaned their shoulders together, a little pride flashing in his eyes, as he continued. “He did seem to be ‘out of it’, in a manner of speaking, when we spoke earlier today. It would make sense if that had worsened over the past few hours, and now he’s just particularly flighty. All in all, I wouldn’t read too much into it, if I were you.”
Patton nodded, resolutely not mentioning that they’d spent the night together, however relevant that was. He knew it would sound paranoid to imply that their intimacy had backfired, or come too quick- because Patton was paranoid, and certainly a little neurotic, and the less he voiced it the better.
Instead, he followed the advice he didn’t believe, and let himself rest against his friend. Logan had laced their fingers together; it wasn’t as comforting as it usually was.
Logan was only so touchy when it was for the sake of others, and almost always that ‘other’ was Patton. A fact that made the needy trait feel amazingly special most of the time, but on nights like that… More than anything, he felt greedy.
“I’ll ask him about it,” Patton promised, because he knew that was what Logan would suggest (even if the idea made him more than a little dreadfilled). “Maybe I overwhelmed him. He’s been cuddly, so I thought…” Patton shook his head, bile hitting the back of his throat as the realization collapsed upon him. “That’s probably it. I must have took it too far.”
Logan didn’t pry, but Patton could feel his concern mount just as well as he could see the frown on his face.
“Talking to him will be the best course of action,” he said plainly. “For the time being, though,” he released Patton’s hand, wrapping his arm loosely around Patton’s waist and leaving it there. “It might be beneficial for you to receive more reassurance. Is this alright?”
“Yes,” Patton ducked his head, knowing full well how obviously relieved he sounded, “Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me, I’m happy to help,” Logan told him, and he had no doubt that it was true. Still, it always surprised him anyway- and that at least was a good thing about a friend who was so reserved. The pleasant surprises.
Patton sat up enough to rest his head on top of Logan’s, a position that was almost but not quite cuddling.
“I sincerely hope,” Logan muttered, “That everything will be alright for you.”
Whether he was speaking only about the Remus situation or not was unclear.
“Me too.”
“If it’s any consolation, it’s very difficult to stay upset with you, if he truly is so. In my experience, at least.”
Patton sighed. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Of course. Your happiness is-... you, are very important to me, and I can only hope that you’ve made a friend that values you as much as I do.”
Patton knew what he meant by it. Both he and Logan were acutely aware of how different they were, and how little they matched with each other. Patton couldn’t understand him- not wanting to be showered in love, enjoying silence and a little bit of alone time, needing space. He knew that Logan didn’t get him, either- didn’t know why he cried all the time, or why nothing ever seemed to fix him for good, or why he said so many things that went without saying. They still struggled with each other’s languages, sometimes, but they’d gotten miles and miles better with it over the years. Sometimes Patton thought that the only way they’d become so close was sheer willpower, pushing past each misunderstanding and argument just because they liked the challenge of it. Determination was always a common thread between them, whatever differences they had.
They had to have boundaries, then. Logan might not hold Patton on his worst days, but he’d give him notes and gifts and bring him water, food, things that he neglected for himself. Patton didn’t have any of the right words to talk Logan down when things got bad, but he was always there to cheer him back up when he was ready again. Neither of them understood each other, and maybe they never would, but they cared. Even if they couldn’t be what the other needed, they cared, and that was all they had to do.
So even if Logan couldn’t fix things, Patton thought, he still did a hell of a good job patching them up.
“Hey. Hey!”
Patton turned around with a jolt, his fingers going tight in the blanket about his shoulders. How long he’d been downstairs, he didn’t know- but he knew that he was really, very tired, and now was left blinking and confused at the person accosting him with so much energy.
“Um, hi,” Patton tried.
Remus had run up to him at once, and was just as suddenly seizing both of his hands. Patton might have taken a moment to appreciate the touch, but with just one sentence that positivity crumbled:
“I need to talk to you.”
Patton shoved a plastic smile onto his face. He always felt a little icky to be faking it, but with Remus, the shame was especially thick. Still, it was only instinct.
“Okay.”
Patton opened the door; the Duke marched in without waiting for invitation, and he followed.
Dread dripped down his spine like melting ice cubes. This is fine, Patton told himself firmly, once they were both sitting feet apart on the bed. He refused to think too hard about what the distance meant- if it meant anything at all, or if he was only being ridiculous.
“Sorry about today,” Remus began, “Really. I was freaking out for the stupidest fucking reason. You’ll laugh when I tell you!”
Patton didn’t laugh, but he smiled a little more wholly. If Remus was upset with him, the apology must’ve meant at least some of that had faded away. Probably.
“It’s okay, Mess,” the nickname rolled off his tongue easily. Remus grinned at him, but it was somehow more manic than usual.
“I probably got you all worried over nothing, bolting on you before you could wake up- and then again earlier, right?”
There was a pause, as Patton tried to decide if the question was rhetoric or not. When the silence stretched on uncomfortably, he found himself nodding.
Remus huffed out a breath, rocking back and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I- I’m still working at the whole self-improvement thing, ya know? That probably doesn’t make it better, but- I’ve never really had a reason to try and be, uh, considerate. Janus never really cared if I was a bitch, and nobody else ever mattered, and that- yeah, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about.”
His voice was raspy, low and thick in a way that it almost never was. Patton tipped his head to the side, confused. Remus looked- and sounded- awkward, an expression that was not at home on his face.
“Wait, um- so it wasn’t anything I did? You’re not upset with me?”
Remus looked at him like he was crazy (ironic, that).
“Upset with you?” He crowed, “Why the fuck would I be upset with you?”
Patton flushed; he laughed embarrassedly, or maybe in relief; he toyed with the sleeves of his sweater.
“I didn’t really- I don’t know, but I was worried that I’d, um, overstepped some boundaries last night, and maybe made you uncomfortable.”
He was only kind of looking at his friend, from out the corners of his eyes. It was still easy to see the way Remus went from confused to amused, and then burst into cackles.
“You- You- Me? Morey, please, it takes a lot to make me uncomfortable- if that’s even possible, actually- and you sure as shit haven’t figured out how to pull it off yet. Sugar, I asked to stay with you!”
The relief flooded Patton all in a rush, and he felt himself finally relax. With Remus laughing and joking and being his usual (sweet, impressively sweet, surprisingly so) self again, it all started seeming a little silly. Remus must’ve seen him coming untense, folding down the same way accordion-pressed paper sprawled out when it was released from a bored student’s hand, because his gaze went warm, like something had finally clicked into place in his head. A problem solved, and what a wonderful solution it had come to- that’s what the look said.
Patton met the smile just as brightly when the Duke shifted over some of the distance between them, taking up both of Morality’s hands in his own yet again.
“Well, since it wasn’t something I did,” Patton said, “Then what was the actual problem?”
Remus didn’t look too upset at the question, but he was glancing down, up, sideways- his pupils flitted around the room without really touching on anything for too long; it wasn’t often that he was so obviously thinking something through. His fingers flexed, face a little pink, and he hesitated before answering:
“Okay, it’s like I said, right? I don’t- I’ve never needed to try to be anything for anybody before. I mean that I never wanted to do things in a conform-y way, obviously, but, I never wanted to be considerate, either,” he smirked down at their tangled hands, shrugging. “I don’t think I’m doing too bad for a first try, to be honest- but that’s not the point, the point is- this is… new.”
Patton opened his mouth, reassurances rushing to the tip of his tongue before he was hastily shushed.
“No, look, there’s a difference between being a pushover and just being fucking nice to the people you care about. That’s the problem- or I thought it was a problem, in my dipshit lizard-panic brain this morning- right? I’ve never wanted to do anything for people, because I didn’t need them anyway. I figured I didn’t, I guess, cuz I could survive without ‘em- it wasn’t like I had a choice, but I got on fine. Not to be too… I don’t know, pathetic? Who cares, but- I never knew anything different.”
Patton’s eyes went wide and watery, like the blue of his irises were soaking into everything else and leaking, leaking, leaking. He was squeezing Remus’ hands a little too tight, certainly, and he just wanted to hug him so bad- but despite his words, Remus didn’t even seem to need it. He looked back at Patton, huffed a sigh, looking just plain amused.
“So this hit me when I was talking to Virgil, about ten minutes ago,” he started, “That I woke up today, with you, and I had this thought like… Fuck, I don’t ever wanna move again. I could starve and then start to decompose and probably rot into bloody mush, but I’d probably still be perfectly happy- which is weird, because starvation is easily one of the boringest ways to die, I could go out so much cooler- but, it was more the fact that I was with you, and uh. So, so I thought that- which is so dumb and sappy- and it surprised me so bad that I just ran. And after I had, I was so freaked out, I didn’t even remember why for!”
He took a deep breath, something that he hadn’t done for that entire ramble. Patton got the sense he still wasn’t finished though, and waited patiently.
“I never needed anybody caring about me for me to be okay- the screaming and the fleeing and all that was fine, it was still a reaction. But I think I just realized that I couldn’t go back to that, now.
“Because of you. I knew I liked you, but it never clicked that things would probably suck without you by this point. More than that, I guess- it hit me that just because I can take care of myself, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t fucking blow. That I don’t- I don’t want to be so independent again, okay? That I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”
And he couldn’t help it at all; Patton did hug him, then. He pulled him against his chest as soon as he noticed the words going choppy, choked, and halting. He let go of Remus’ hands, in favor of tangling his fingers in the Duke’s hair and carding through it.
Remus met the embrace with just as much fervor, curling up into the bigger trait. Yet somehow, he wasn’t crying yet.
“Hey, hey, I’m alright,” he murmured, “I mean, don’t let go, obviously- but I’m okay. I had all day to panic! Which I definitely did, by the way, because my whole worldview got screwed over. Finally know how you feel, I guess,” He was joking, Patton could hear his smile. He laughed. “But I got it out of my system, and ya know what I realized after that?”
Patton hummed attentively, letting Remus pull back just enough to see his face.
“I said, ‘okay, I’m processing that, and it doesn’t matter.’ It doesn’t matter because I only realized that maybe I need people once I already had them, and- no offense- but you don’t really seem like the abandoning type. The opposite, that’s what you are.”
Patton beamed.
“Of course not,” he swore, pressing the words out as though intensity alone could make them more true, more pure. “Never, not ever.”
“Good,” Remus said, “Cuz I’m hanging on to ya, Pat. As long as I can.”
Chapter Eight
Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob
#sanders sides#ts#intruality#my writing#qpr intruality#remus sanders#patton sanders#ts fanfic#sanders sides fanfiction
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you’re one of the few things that i’m sure of
i’m been sitting on this doc since september and it’s finally done. i just binged atypical again and honor of season 3 starting filming. i decided to put this out into the world because these two need more recognition! all rights of atypical goes to the creators. the title is the song ‘the few things’ by jp saxe. send me prompts please!! hope you enjoy all the angst and sort of fluff!
——
Casey doesn’t see Izzie for awhile after that night in the car. She can still feel Izzy’s warm plam in her hand and taste the cotton candy slushie in the back of her throat if she thinks hard enough about it.
I can’t see her anymore
She decides this while driving Izzie home that night. The awkward and uncomfortable silence stretching across the car, giving her time to think.
I can’t see her anymore. I can’t do this. I cannot see her anymore. I can’t do that to Evan.
Evan. She totally forgot about Evan. The sweet and nice boy who was her first kiss, her first love, her first everything. A wallow of guilt pools in her stomach and keeps filling up into her throat as she keeps thinking of the blonde hair, blue-eyed, video game playing geek.
“I can’t do this.” She says, her voice hoarse, when the outside of Izzy’s house. She doesn’t look at Izzie, she can’t. Because she knows that if she does, she’ll screw the consequences and grab Izzie’s hand and drive off till they hit Rhode Island or New York or wherever Izzie wants to go.
Wherever Izzie goes, Casey will follow.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Izzy nod.
“I know.”
Izzy carefully takes her hand out of Casey’s, but Casey still flinches. She forgot that she was still holding Izzie’s hand.
——
So, Casey doesn’t see Izzie for the rest of the summer. She ignores the tiny hole in her heart where the black haired girl carved her spot in. She decides to go on more runs to get faster and get her endurance higher, so she doesn’t have to run beside Izzie in the coming school year, doesn’t have to see that smirk when she crosses the finish line one second before Casey, the one makes her heart beat a lot faster than usual. She runs faster so she doesn’t have to feel Izzie’s warm, soft palms pushing against her shoulders in victory and the heat spreading to her toes and up to the very tips of her hair, staying there long after Izzie lets go.
Casey decides to spend more time with Evan. To try to fall in love with him even more than before. It be easy to. He’s nice, attentive, caring, good kisser, and he deals with a lot more of her shit than necessary. So, it be easy to fall more in love with him, to pull him into her room and kiss him till both of them are blue from the lack of oxygen. It be easy to do that.
But, everytime she thinks about doing just that, she thinks about how warm Izzie’s forehead was against hers, how soft her hair was against her cheeks, how her smile made Casey’s heart beat so fast that she thought she was having a heart attack. So, it would be easy to forget about all that and go upstairs with Evan, but instead, she pulls Evan’s arm closer around her and settles into safety of the couch downstairs.
——
It’s the last Wednesday before school starts when someone brings up Izzie. It’s at dinner after Casey went on a long run. At dinner, her mom starts going through the guest list for Sam’s going away party that he insisted that he have as he wants to tell the neighborhood goodbye.
‘Even though he’ll be living from home’ Casey thinks with a smirk, but it’s nice for him to get part of the college experience.
Half way through the guest list, Sam turns to Casey with curious eyes and hands in his lap.
“Will Izzie be coming to the party?”
Casey chokes on her water.
This causes for her mom and her dad to both look up from their dinner with faces of concern. She waves them off as a sign that she is fine, but she is far from fine. Sam continues with his sentence.
“I want to show her Edison’s new cage.” It took them awhile, but since Edison’s first cage was so filthy that he needed a new one. The compromise with Sam was that they bought a cage exactly like Edison’s old cage.
Casey barely heard what Sam was saying, but she forced a small smile and nod to make him happy.
She decides to go out on another run after dinner.
——
She decided to text Izzie the next day since the party was that Friday, so it was kind of last minute. She spends thirty minutes on a decent text to make it look like she hasn’t been thinking of her all summer.
sam’s having a going away party at 5 tmrw and he wants to show u edison’s new cage. will u come?
She thinks she did alright.
——
The text comes later that night when she is watching a rerun of Seinfeld with her father. Her heart in her throat when she opens the message.
Sam got a new cage?
She lets out a small snort of laughter that doesn’t disturb her father from Kramer on the screen. She can almost hear the disbelief in Izzie’s text.
it’s exactly like the old one.
Izzie’s reply comes a few minutes later.
Gotcha. I’ll be there around 6.
That small hole in her heart that’s only grown bigger in the last few months begins to fill with the thought of seeing Izzie again. To see her soft smile, to hear her voice, and hear her laugh. Her thoughts are quickly interrupted with her father making a sound of a acknowledgement. She looks up to see him studying her with a soft smile on his face.
“What?”
He shrugs nonchalantly.
“Nothing, I just haven’t see you smile like that in a while.”
——
She spends the first half of Friday morning running alone. The second half was helping her mom prepare for the party. She’s hanging up streamers when her mom starts to talk.
“How are you doing, Sweetie?” Casey shoots a confused look at her mother, it’s not like she’s been gone. Her and her father both agreed that it would be better for Sam if they lived in the house together. It’s had some bumps, but otherwise, it’s been fine.
“I’m alright, why?” She can’t be that affected by Izzie for her mom, of all people, to figure out that something is wrong with her.
“You’ve just been a little off lately.” Casey doesn’t know what to say to that. She doesn’t like to tell her mom when she is right.
“I’m fine.” She’s anything but fine, but her mother shrugs. It isn’t until her mom tells her to go get ready for the party that she touches Casey on the shoulder.
“You know you can tell me anything right?” Casey wants to snap at her mother. Tell her that she can’t. That she can’t feel this why. That she saw where being selfish got her mother, to almost losing her family. Instead, she forces a small smile and nod, then goes up the stairs to get dressed.
——
Evan shows up at the party fifthteen minutes after five, wearing his best flannel and blue jeans. He gives her a kiss at the door and she keeps him there for a little bit, sinking into the comfort of him. He pulls back with his best smile that makes Casey smile, but her heartbeat remains the same.
Around five-thirty is when most of the guests show up, most of them are the parents from around the neighborhood. But, Zahid and Paige are there to keep Sam occupied enough to not get bored easily.
Casey’s in a nice conversation about track with Ms. Samuels, from three blocks down the street, when the door opens. Her eyes looks up as a momentary reaction, but then stay there when she realizes who it is. Izzie.
‘She’s thirty minutes early’ Casey thinks. That’s all Casey can think when Izzy walks further into the room. At five-forty-five, Casey was going to fake a cramp to her mother and then go up into her room and think about Izzy. No, no, no, she wasn’t going to see Izzie tonight. But, even though her mind is protesting this idea of seeing Izzie, she can’t ignore the way the large hole in her heart begins to filling up the moment that Izzie walked into the room.
——
She doesn’t actually talk to Izzie until later that night. Sam comes up to greet her and then shows her up to her room, presumably to show the ‘new’ cage that he got for Edison. It isn’t until most of the guests have left is when she actually gets to talk to Izzie.
She doesn’t mean to talk to her, she happens to be taking the trash out when she sees Izzie on the back porch, looking up at the stars.
Now, there are two things Casey Gardner could do in this situation, she could go back inside and play Scrabble with her boyfriend or she could talk to Izzie. She walks to the back porch without a second thought.
“Hey.” She says in a soft voice, stuffing her hand in her pockets. Izzie turns to her, a soft smile gracing her face that makes Casey’s heart pick up a little bit of speed.
“Hi.” Izzie turns back to look at the stars. Casey doesn’t trust herself enough to sit by Izzie, so she leans up against the wooden post of the porch.
“Thanks for coming tonight. It meant a lot to Sam.” ‘And me’ Casey thinks, but doesn’t say. Izzie smiles a even wider smile and looks to her.
“Yeah, he spent thirty minutes telling me about the new features his cage has for Edison and about how much Edison likes his new cage.” Casey smiles at the thought of her brother talking to Izzie, making her smile and laugh. It’s a nice thought.
“Well, thank you.” Izzie stands with a soft smile, the one that makes Casey feel like she’s having a heart attack.
“No need to thank me, Newton.” She leans on the other side of the post that Casey is leaning against.
“You’re still my favorite person, no matter what.” This makes Casey’s heart ache with love and so much longing. After nearly three months of ignoring her, Izzie takes her back without question, without protest and all she can think is how much she’s missed this girl.
“Yeah, you’re still mine too.” Izzie smiles so hard and so wide. That Casey can’t think of a moment better to fall in love with someone, followed by an ‘oh shit’.
——
It’s the first week of September when Evan starts to notice something off with Casey. She tries not to be so distant with him. She lets him hold her when they are watching a movie. She lets him hold hands when they go out on date. She lets him make her laugh and smile, just like he’s always done. But, after that night on the porch, she doesn’t let him kiss her every moment and they don’t have sex again. So, she tries to not be distant, but he can’t help but notice.
It’s the last Monday of September when Evan decides to talk to Casey about it. They’re sitting on the back porch on the stairs when Evan brings it up.
“Are you okay?” Casey looks up from picking the loose wood of the stairs. Her face showing genuine curiosity.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She says, looking at him. He can’t know about Izzy, she hasn’t been that obvious, has she?
“You don’t look fine.” He says in a quiet voice that makes her even more agitated with the conversation.
“Well then stop looking.” She snaps back smartly, but instantly regrets it when she sees the way his face takes a downturn look.
They’re quiet for a few minutes, Evan looking out to the trees of the backyard, seeing them sway lightly with the cool breeze. Casey looking down at the stairs of the porch that they are sitting on, picking at the dark wood.
“What’s going on with you, Casey?” Evan looks at Casey long enough for her to look back at him. She thinks that she will see anger and hurt in his eyes, but all she sees is curiosity, concern, and that soft look that he’s always had for her. It makes her realize why she fell in love with him in the first place and why tell him anything about this will break her even more.
“I love you so much.” She starts, tears welling up in her eyes, she can hear her heart start to tear.
Evan starts to catch on, his frown downturning even more than before.
“But, I can’t-” A sob catches in her throat, blocking anymore words from coming out. The thought of losing Evan completely after this hurts her. But what really breaks her is that if losing Evan meant having Izzy, she would be okay with that. That thought of her being that selfish is what breaks her down to the bone.
Evan clears his throat, hurt and pain clear in his eyes, but not anger.
“What do you need?”
This makes another sob escape her throat. Even in her darkest moment, Evan doesn’t get mad, he doesn’t turn away, he doesn’t yell or snap, he just wants to make sure she is okay. This could make her fall in love with him over and over again. It be easy to, but she can’t help think that maybe she couldn’t now. With everything that’s happened. That she’s gone as far as she can with falling in love with him. And now, she’s just slowly falling out of it.
“Hold me. Please, I just need someone to hold me.”
She tries to take the desperation out of her voice, but it doesn’t work. But Evan doesn’t care, he does it anyway.
She falls into the comfort of her ex-boyfriend’s arms.
——
She tells Evan everything about Izzie. She tells him about how Izzie came to her when she needed comfort, about how she read her Stephen King stories in the pillow fort that Casey had made to cheer her up. Casey told him about Izzie lashing out at her when she told her that Nate had try to kiss her. She told him about how much she had missed Izzie when she didn’t speak to her. She told him about her birthday party when she had gotten mad at him and Izzy had come and apologized to her about Nate. She told him about the almost kiss and how scared she felt after.
“Why did you feel scared?” Evan had asked, his tone of genuine curiosity.
“Because if my mom hadn’t walked in, I was pretty sure I was going to kiss her. I was scared that I could be that selfish. Like my mom.” Casey said, her voice soft and scared.
She told him about how Izzie and her drove four towns over just to get to a 7-Eleven to that sells cotton candy slushies. She told him about after they got the slushies that Izzie reached for her hand. She told him about how she didn’t pull away and about how she didn’t want to. She told him about how she forgot that she was holding her hand the whole car ride until Izzie took her hand away. She tells him about her heart has being feeling so heavy these past few months and about how lost her head feels.
Evan listens through all of this with a understanding look in his eyes. Her heart feels some sort of relief in this. Like maybe she hasn’t lost him after all. Maybe after all of this, they can still be friends. Like truly friends. Casey finds some comfort in that.
“How do you feel about her?” Evan’s soft words cut against her chest. Casey looks at him then back down at her hands, wringing them together.
“I don’t know exactly.” She doesn’t. She doesn’t know how to describe that feeling in her chest she gets when Izzie’s around. She doesn’t know how to describe the feeling of joy that comes to her by just being around Izzie. Because falling in love with Evan wasn’t like that. It was more slow and calm. Like waves rolling on the beach, over and over again.
“It’s just-when she looks at me, I just-”
“Forget your own name.” Evan completes the sentence for her. His eyes filled with a sad kind of understanding that makes her heart ache with guilt.
“Exactly.”
——
Evan leaves before dinner that night with a promise of friendship that makes Casey almost cry in relief. She wants him to still be in her life even as a friend, best friend even. They’ll get there eventually, she knows that, but for right now she will give him the space and time that he needs and let him approach her first. She owes him at least that.
After that she decides she’s done with relationships for awhile. Even though her feelings for Izzie were blooming while she was still in a relationship with Evan doesn’t mean that she doesn’t miss him and isn’t heartbroken because he was her first love. But, she does think that it the break up with Evan should hurt more than it probably does.
She decides to focus on school and spending more time with her family. She goes on walks with her dad to get his health back up, she actually listens to her mom and doesn’t give her such a hard time because she looks like she is trying to piece their family back together. She takes Sam and Paige on dates a lot, so much so that her dad calls her Sam’s Taxi Driver, apparently he doesn’t know what a Lyft is. She takes them to the movies and doesn’t comment about Sam’s flustered cheeks and loose belt buckle when she picks them up.
She actually hangs out with Zahid more, even when Sam is not around. He’s a cool dude, considering he still lives with his parents and can’t get a girl to save his life. But, he’s funny and he lets her play his Xbox with him when he brings it over. He kind of becomes her best friend, she doesn’t realize it until she brings up Izzie in front of him.
He finds out about her when they are hanging out at a sandwich shop on 43rd, she had just dropped Sam off on another movie date with Paige and had a couple of hours to kill, so she texted Zahid to come out and meet her. They sit down and order their food when Casey sees her. Izzie.
She is sitting across from a younger boy, which Casey can assume is one of her brothers. She’s beautiful, Casey knows this, Izzie has always been beautiful to her. But now that she doesn’t have the weight of a relationship on her shoulders. She can take in Izzie’s true beauty. Her black hair cascading in waves on top of her shoulders, her warm brown eyes that lit up everytime she smiled at Casey. Her smile, the one that would make Casey’s heart beat so fast that she would think she was having a heart attack.
Casey must have been staring too long because Izzie catches her eye. For a moment, Izzie just stares at her, but then she turns away back to her brother.
Casey must have been staring too long because Zahid actually stops in the middle of his story, which is about almost getting a cute costumer’s number yesterday, and turns around to look where Casey’s line of vision is.
“Isn’t that the girl from Sam’s going away party?”
“Izzie.”
He must hear the warmth in her voice surrounding Izzie’s name because he turns around with eyebrows raised and a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Right, Izzie.”
Casey looks down, her cheeks almost as flushed as the ketchup stain on the table in front of her. She doesn’t say anything else, just picks at her half eaten meatball sub. Zahid takes the hint and sighs.
“She’s pretty.” He says in a tone that Casey knows he doesn’t want to hit on Izzie. It’s his own approval for Casey. She looks up at him and sees nothing but warmth and acceptance on his face. It’s makes her heart soar. Not because she needed his approval, but to know that one person is okay with it. And for now, that’s all she needs.
Casey doesn’t talk to Izzie when her and Zahid leave the restaurant to go pick up Sam. But, she does send a bright smile her way and gets one back that makes her heart soar.
——
After that, Izzie and Casey become civil towards each other. Not that they weren’t civil before, Izzie respected that Casey needed space to figure things out and vice versa. But now, the pair talk at school and run together on the track field. Casey starts leaving biology class five minutes early just to get to Izzie’s english class, that’s on the other side of the school, to walk with her to her math class. (Casey has to sprint to her history class after she drops Izzie off, but it’s worth it).
Casey doesn’t know what to define what they are. Friends, maybe more, but whatever it is, she’s just glad Izzie is talking to her again. But, Casey can’t help feel that between the walks to class and long talks, that they could be more. She wants to be more.
——
It comes to Casey after her parents announce that they are separating to her and Sam.
They had been doing great during family dinners and Casey’s track meets and Sam’s weekly therapy sessions, but behind closed doors, their relationship was just too broken to be fixed.
Casey gets that, but it doesn’t mean she’s not still angry.
She’s angry when she goes on a run after they tell her. She’s still angry when she pictures her mom and that asshole bartender together over and over again. She’s angry at her dad for leaving the first time. She’s angry at her mother for being selfish. She’s angry at herself for ruining her relationship with Evan and pushing Izzie away. She’s just plain angry.
She’s more confused than angry when she ends up in Izzie’s driveway. She’s only been there a handful of times before everything went to shit, but it’s a small, cozy house not mansion like the other kids at Clayton have. She likes it.
She must have been standing out there for a long time, wondering how she got there, because a little boy, around five or six, comes out onto the porch and stands right were the stairs began.
“Hey lady!” The little boy yells, breaking Casey out of her trace.
Casey steps a few feet into the driveway to get a better look at the little boy. He’s basically a carbon copy of Izzie, the same warm brown eyes and black wavy hair.
“Do you need something?” He shouts when Casey doesn’t answer him.
Casey fully intends to tell him to forget that she ever came back and just run back to her house. But before she can get a word out, a familiar voice cuts her off.
“JJ!”
Izzie comes out onto the porch and Casey heart drops to the pit of her stomach and gets swarmed by the butterflies that are already in there. She’s in sleep shorts and a old t-shirts.
“What are you-” Izzie’s question gets cut short by her brother pointing out into the driveway, where Casey stands.
“Go back inside. I’ll be in a minute.” Izzie leads him back into the house and shuts the door behind him. She looks back at Casey, who cheeks are flushed from the endurance and this whole situation in general.
“What are you doing here, Newton?” Izzie says as she walks down the porch steps and onto the grass in front of her house. She crosses her arms in front of her chest as she gets halfway and stops. She wants Casey to met her halfway.
“You know, I-I was just in the neighborhood and…” Casey trails off as she takes a few steps forward to Izzie.
“You were just in the neighborhood?”
“Yeah.”
“Four miles away?”
“What can I say? I like to run.”
“Casey.” Izzie’s tone takes a serious turn which makes Casey sober up in her answer.
“My parents are getting separated.” Casey says with a sigh.
“Casey, I’m so-” Izzie begins to form a apology, but gets cut off by Casey.
“My dad left us because he was confused about who he was as a father. My mom cheated on my dad because she was confused about who she was as a person.”
Casey takes another step forward to Izzie.
“I’ve felt confused about everything these past months and it sucks.” Casey takes Izzie’s hand into hers. She feels the same warmth and comfort that she felt all those months ago. She can taste the cotton candy slushie in the back of her throat.
“I don’t have enough apologies for you about the way I’ve treated you these past few months. I don’t know what to say other than this.”
Casey takes a deep breath before continuing. Looking into Izzie’s eyes to see warmth, confusion, and a little bit of love.
“I might be confused on a lot of things, but I’m not confused when I’m with you. It just feels right, you know? And I think that’s why I pushing you away. Because it felt so right to be with you and that made me even more confused. I didn’t want to be confused because I’ve seen were being confused gets people, were it got my parents,and I didn’t want to be that way.”
Casey cuts herself off with putting the hand that isn’t holding Izzie’s over her face.
“I just want to be with you.” Casey sums it up with a shrug.
Izzie laughs, a kind of laugh that makes Casey’s heart race so fast that it might run right out of her chest.
Izzie finally moves close to Casey, putting her forehead against hers and moves her arms around Casey’s neck.
“I want to be with you too, Newton. No matter how confused we both are.” With that Casey finally plucks all of her courage that she has left and does the thing that she’s been wanting to do since her birthday.
Casey presses her lips against Izzie’s.
There’s no fireworks or sparks of electricity between them. But there’s a warmth that spreads from the strands of hairs on her head down to the tip of her toes.
This is a different kiss that she hasn’t felt before with anyone. This is a kiss between her and Izzie. It’s just her and Izzie and it’s perfect.
It’s perfect.
#casey x izzie#cazzie fanfic#cazzie#cizzie#i honestly dont know what their ship name is#casey gardner#izzie#atypical#fanfiction#fanfic#angst#fluff
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